#too lazy to tag them all so pretend i did

[umblrspectrum]

getting in that spooky spirit

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 7 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the fourth year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning helping one another

warnings (TW): swearing, sexual themes (mdni 18+)

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining, sexual-situations (in act i), good ol’ protective-stan <3 

notes: me thinks me has big chapter coming up (pt. 8), me thinks i like to do things in fours (the last big chapter was 4). also did anyone notice that my sorry ass had to go back and change some dates/years womp womp but extra points if u didn’t notice my dumbass mistake. 

i think relationships are about being a total hypocrite at times also, like you are constantly trying to fight biases you have over yourself, and also trying to fight for the betterment of your partner also. like im a total hypocrite when it comes to my partner so i think this is another good chapter of what i like to call “flesh” 

that being said i have it sketched out in my journal that next chapter will be… important. hope you all enjoy, and as always love love love all the comments and notes and reblogs! thank you all so much, lots of love <3 (again, masterlist with the other chapters is linked down below!) 

word count: 5.1k

| masterlist | part viii |

“The kids will be gone for a while,” he says, hand slipping warm up her thigh. “How about we pretend it’s 1995, doll?” That slick smirk on his face, glasses drooping on his big hooked nose. 

She laughs. “1995? More like 2012, baby. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve tried to seduce me in the car.” 

He laughs too, hand pushing through his gray curling hair. Shifting in his seat to get closer and share his warmth. His covered thigh was hot against her own. She had laid out short sweatpants for him to put on that lazy Saturday with the kids when he made to walk out the front door in his boxers. Something she found endearing at their older age, the slip of his mind when it came to spending time with the kids. 

It’s darker out, their car the only one in the closed parking lot they had busted into. Mabel had been upset that day, after an altercation with another girl at the mini golf course. Her brother and Stan had almost been more upset for her, and they had rallied behind her in her need for revenge against her blonde foe. She had been upset as well and had a swell of choice words for the little rich girl's parents before Stan pulled her away.

So she had let it slide, the breaking and entering she was currently allowing the kids to do. That and Soos was with them. She trusted him more than he knew. 

They hadn’t been alone in a while, well except for their typical midnight trysts. They had to be more quiet, as of recent though. 

“Feels like a long time,” he hums, bringing his warm palm from her thigh to his cheek. “Come on… we have a bit here.” 

She looks up at him through her lashes, a flush to her face. “I wasn’t protesting.” 

He moves to her like he always does, distracted by the closing space between them. Curling his large palm around her cheek, kissing her like he knows her. 

He’s slick like usual also, smiling against her lips, creeping his hand to move her seat down so he has the high ground between the two of them. Something he loves to do. 

She’s laughing now, lounging back in the reclined seat. When had he reclined his own also?

But she’s pushing at his insistent chest, smiling at his slyness. Flushed below him, his torso hot against her front as his hand made itself comfortable on her cheek again, another on her waist. 

“No funny business Stan, the kids will be back soon and you know it.” 

“No funny business.” He says, pulling back to look at her soft face. His eyes drifting back to her lips once more. There's a breath between them, as they surge back and forth in the connecting space. Breathing heavy in the stretch between their lips, as she tries to chase him forward and he pulls back. His hand caresses her cheek, playing with the hair around the nape of her neck with his pinky. 

“Beautiful.” He whispers between them finally, breaking some spell he’s cast in the space amongst their breaths. It breaks something, when he finally surges forward, meeting her in the middle, at her insistence. 

It’s slow and building and grows hot between them. She tries to focus on many things at once about her lover, how his large hand cups her cheek, and jaw, and neck all at once. How he breathes heavy on top of her, warm against her front, but not against the most intimate part of her. How his lips move, move her, force her open and closed again. How his hand creeps up her waist to the sides of her chest, trailing hot upwards. 

Suddenly it’s not slow anymore, not after the noises she unconsciously makes, and not after his hand trails back to the seem of her shirt to pull it up, his palm warm against her chest now. She’s gasping now, nodding her head at his insistence. He moves instinctually, like how he does every time, but how it feels brand new and different also, when he shoves her bra down, cupping her exposed chest now. How his fingers are slight against the sensitive skin there, it all feels new each time. 

It has her moaning again, mouth open against his to create space, to create noise that bubbles at the base of her throat and sprouts between them. It has him throwing himself forward again, his hand tight against the junction of her jaw now, as he moves her lips and face to meet him again. To move against her again. 

His hand is warm on her front, slipping against her chest, his palm moving to massage her, twirling her bust between his large hot hand. He’s so warm and whole against her, that it has her moving, adjusting along the reclined seat sideways so more of him could be a part of her. Creating space, and area, for him to manipulate as he pleases. And it does please him. 

He’s fast along her lips now, and she does her best to keep up. Her hand gripping his hair, the other digging into the muscle of his broad shoulder, trying to bring him impossibly closer. But he wants to hear more of her, more from her. And he knows how to do it, moving from her mouth to her jaw to her throat, his mouth just as warm as the rest of him. Open mouth, breathy kisses follow in his wake until he makes for the junction of her throat and her shoulder. Kissing there just to hear her react, just to watch her squirm below him. Biting and kissing and lingering by her ear, groaning in her ear as she unknowingly cants into his lap at the tweak of his finger at her chest. 

“You’re so good to me.” His mouth hot over the junction of her throat, his hand heavy on the curve between her jaw and her pulse. “Always so fucking good for me, angel.” 

It serves to always rile her up more when he’s so honest with her like this. Something so simple as the truth has her disregarding her words from before, has her parting her legs and pulling him against the entirety of her as she searches for his lips again. He meets her in the middle of the heat of them, just as taken by her insistence, just as riled up by her enthusiasm for him to this day. 

It has him slightly pulling back though also, swearing as he pulls his button-up off his body. Smirking as he crumples it up to wedge under her hips, to have her pressing up against the heat of his lower body correctly. To ensure he could angle his own hips to meet her where she needed him. 

She’s flushed below him when he glances back up from his handy makeshift substitution for their usual orthopedic pillow. Breathing heavily against the seat of their car, her head almost leaning off the back of the reclined long bench. Her hair haloed around her head as she reached her hands back in front of her to drag him against her again. To feel his weight against her parted legs, her neck already crooked to allow his lips resurgence, her shirt around her chest crumpled from shifting her bra around his large palm. 

A knock. 

It shocks her awake, groggy in her bed, but not on her usual side. 

The wall is cold behind her, but the shoulder she's nestled into is hot beneath her cheek. Stanley slumbering, a slight snore building up in the back of his throat as his chest rises and falls under her hand. 

Right, Stan. 

She had taken to sleeping next to him, some nights. After the appearance of the shocking dream just last October, she continued to have flashes of odd frightful nightmares interspersedly between then and now. It had shocked them both awake several more times in those following months, as she called for him when she was deep within her subconscious. He never protested, never really asked before he would crawl into her bed during those occasions, shuffling her to her spot furthest from the door. 

Now they stuttered each night in the hall, held themselves together in the shadow of each other's doorways before bed. He’d look down at her those nights, at her dark circles and wrinkled pajamas. A question on his tongue every night. A silent ask, if she would need him that night. He would come if she called. 

She could almost sense when one would creep into her mind most nights now, like an instinctual correlation to her overworking herself. So some nights she’d grasp his hands in the shadows in the hallway and drag him to her room. Something he didn’t comment on, the one thing between them he didn’t joke about. 

On other nights they would separate, his lips would linger on her hairline after whispering goodnight to her to leave for his empty room. But those nights seemed far and few in between her need to have him close now, because the dreams were all but fleeting with him close for some reason. She listed off the benefits of co-sleeping somewhere in the back of her head before slipping away most nights, reasoning out her need for him. 

It explained his presence below her now, how she was folded into the junction of his shoulder and his outstretched arm. How her hands had made a home in his warm chest. But it didn’t really explain the dream, one that she had never had of that nature. 

It made something stir in the back of her mind, made her think of his lingering breath now and how it felt so real in the dream, shepherded in the crook of her neck. How he felt on top of her, the way he fell into the junction of her parted legs. How it had her shifting her own legs now, unconsciously trying to get closer to him now. 

She knew he was attractive. There were things endearing about his personality, things that made her think after laughter, and her heart swell when he got close. But he was, physically, quite attractive to her also. The curl of his hair, the smirk of his lips, of course. But also his broad arms, and large palms. The swell of his lower stomach, the patch of hair below his belly button, the parting of his legs when he sat on the couch. It really wasn’t surprising that she had such a dream about him, not surprising at all. She quite… enjoyed it. Which is why she let her hands linger on him even now, creeping up his shirt to rest on the rise of his lower stomach. To seep in some of that warmth, to try to remember the weight of him above her. 

But she had also dreamed of the kids again. 

She tried to keep note of what she could remember of them. Of pink sweaters and braces and smatterings of freckles that looked like constellations. It faded again though, as she rested against his rising chest. Lulled back to sleep by his steady breaths against her.

June, 1986 

He pulled himself from work that day so they could wander around town and inevitably regretted it once they hit Main Street. 

She had found it amusing that they had stumbled into some sort of reenactment of the 1830s, something he had found joy in, his hands drifting from his pockets to her own hands. But something he was now more than a little frustrated by, watching her giggle every time an old-fashioned dressed-up reenactor passed them by, every man tipping their tophats in her general direction. 

It had him almost fuming, honestly. That they could have his Doc’ blushing and giggling at every turn with ease. His hand had drifted again, pulling her closer to his side as they made their way from booth to booth at this god-forsaken Pioneer Day festival. 

She was distracted by homemade candies at their current booth. Calling his attention and dragging him closer to show him the assortment of sweets she wanted to share with him. Until the booth-keep approached them, his goddamn hat tipped at his Doc’. 

“What can I do for ya miss?” The slightly older gentleman asked politely, taking his tall hat off in the presence of her. 

She giggled again, of course. Glancing back at his flushed form, before glancing back at the clerk about to answer. 

“It’s missus, actually, ya schmuck.” He had to open his mouth. Almost like he couldn’t help it, something bubbling below the surface, his fist clenched defensively at his side, the other still balled up around her waist. 

She seemed slightly shocked at his infringement, flushing embarrassed at his side. He didn’t even think of apologizing, especially when she looked like that. 

“Apologies, sir!” The clerk said, glancing between the assumed couple. “Your lady here needs some assistance, yes?” 

“Wife, pal. My wife.” 

Stuttering, waving away Stan’s charged statement, the poor clerk is crimson in front of them in the July heat and under the scrutiny of a man who is on his last leg with the current fair he finds himself at. 

She seizes the moment, turning back to Stan to push his chest back away and out of the stall, throwing a quick apology over her shoulder in their hasty retreating wake. 

It had been absurdly endearing, how annoyed Stan was all day. It wasn’t easy to derail the man, from what she knew of him. So she had reveled in his apparent annoyance all day. Weirdly protective of the space they took up on the walkway through the fair, trying to shield her from the polite tipping of hats which was custom to do, she figured. Something the reenactors did rather flippantly and without thought. But something that had grated at her partner all day, despite that. So stubbly angry at the gesture that no one else but he thought twice about. 

She had let it continue throughout the day though, and had giggled at how his hand had made for her own, and migrated to her waist sometime during the day when he grew more aptly agitated. A protective hand on her, and when she looked back at him, his face was always a grimace. His usual glare directed solely at the men who would greet her on the street. 

The vendor apparently, had been the last straw. After the poor man hadn’t acknowledged Stan’s presence, in favor of helping and doting on her. Probably a good sales tactic, something Stan knew about also, but something he was blinded by in the moment. Annoyed at being ignored despite bearing down at anyone from her shadow along her back. 

They had enough for today though, she thought, pulling him farther down the street back to the parking lot at the end of Main Street, so they could find their car and head home. She doubted he would want to come back to the yearly Pioneer Days, but she’d try to drag him back each coming year. Reveling at his protective hold, giggling at his flushed face as he declared her as his to everyone who would listen. 

November, 1986

She found him up late, in his office that night. 

He had made a space in a random room on the first floor, close to the kitchen. One of those rooms they had both disregarded and initially put the swell of Ford’s belongings in.

But she had helped him clean it back out a couple of years ago when he opened their home turned tourist trap. Helped anyway he would allow, actually, which was more or less going through old research papers piled high and picking out a nice desk from the flea market to situate in front of the south-facing window. He had moved around just about everything else. 

The walls were still bare in his office, and he had filled the room with some of his old knick-knacks and newspaper clippings he had a tendency of keeping from the comics and punchline sections of the local paper. The ones that made her laugh. That and odd stacks of magazines from jewelers he liked. 

He had been unable to help her downstairs that day, something she did not begrudge him of, especially seeing him now bent over his desk, with his hands catching in his hair. She had called him for dinner, but when he didn’t answer or come within ten minutes she found herself wandering to his office with their dinner in hand. His office door was wide open, as it always was when it was just the two of them. She knocked despite this. 

“Stan?” She asks, balancing steaming plates of food in both hands. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“No, hun.” His head shot up, a smile blooming on his face, but his eyes were weary still from squinting at money margins for the last couple of hours. 

She makes her way closer, plopping his plate right in front of him on the desk, disregarding the odd papers he had spread out all over its surface. She leans herself on the desk, holding her own plate up so she could simply eat where she stood.

“Doesn’t look like it.” She says, pitching her head back to the mess on his desk. 

He’s almost too worked up to eat, not that he’d let her know that. He’d been wrangling around money all day, trying to equate the sum of the last couple of months’ tours into this month's mortgage payment. Something he struggled with last season also, but something he’d gotten worse at hiding from her despite his best efforts. She overworked herself enough as is, he didn’t want this on her plate alongside everything else. 

She did her best to handle the mess he had made downstairs, and he did his best to take care of her. Because she deserved that, after all she’s done for him. Given him four years, put up with his bullshit for four years after his four-second mistake of pushing his brother into another dimension. 

But looking up at her now, watching the darkness from the fall season outside seep in through the window. How she tilted her head down, leaned onto his desk, and basically plopped on top of the hardwood she had picked out herself. She made no indication of regret, in all four years.

Still, something tugs at him, he wanted to be the one to provide in this aspect. Something deep, once hallow in him, something his father had tried to teach him in his old ways. About how to take care of your wife, about how he needed to provide. 

But they were standing in a shell of a house, one that he could not even logically claim as his own. And he wanted to give her more. To celebrate during the holidays without pinching pennies, to give her gifts during these colder winter months, like he remembers his father doing for his mother. To get her those new throw blankets she eyes up at the craft store, to get her that new red pot she says reminds her of her grandmother. It made him feel more like a failure, set something deep in him, that he couldn’t give her some of those things while she so willingly gave him four years.

She wouldn’t relent though, because as determined as he was to take care of her in this semblance, she was just as eager to do the same for him. Something that always made him lean into her, had his hand finding hers instinctually nowadays. Something that no one has done for him since Ford, someone having his back. 

So he tells her anyway because she's smart. Knowing to lean up on his desk like that and bring him food to ply him from his leather desk chair and make him concede in his problems. Something all-knowing about her like usual, something perhaps ingrained in her. 

He leans forward, scooping up food to shovel into his mouth. Maybe he was hungry after all. “I’m having some trouble balancing some books.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Means I’m short.” Fisting some of his hair in his fist, mumbling around his food. “Holiday season, I’m always strapped for cash.” 

She hums, a fold forming in the ridge of her brows. She takes a moment, leaning farther into his desk, dinner half gone on her plate already. “You?” 

“What?” 

“You, Stan?” She sighs, suddenly looking tired in front of him. Frustrated with something, at the very least.  

He shrugs at her, turning away from her suddenly harsh gaze. But she won’t let him turn from her anymore. She finishes her dinner, discarding her plate farther away on the corner of his desk, reaching over his papers and piles to switch on the shaded desk lamp they also scrounged for. 

She sighs again, situating herself completely in front of him now. Leaning back against his desk again, basically sitting on the papers and books that were causing him strife not even ten minutes ago. His dinner is half cold on his plate now, situated on his own lap as he slumps back in his chair. His eyes move back to her instinctually now that she’s in front of him. The lamp light shining on her frustrated visage. 

“Stan.” She humphs, leaning forward, crowding him into his chair. “You? Just you?” 

Realizing his mistake, his shepherding of problems, continuing to shield them as his own despite him internally admitting he should at least voice them aloud. 

But it’s hard to admit defeat in this aspect, hard to concede control over something she thought so flippantly of as money. It was deeper than that, deeper than the mortgage of course. It was something he had left home in search of, something he still grasped for, and something he had buried asking for help with when he was merely eighteen years old.

His desires had somehow changed and shifted though. The warped image he had of his father, how it had become distorted in the face of his new desires. Desires that looked more and more like her these days. And it was just something he wouldn’t admit defeat to, couldn’t admit defeat. Because then what good was he to her? 

So he stands behind his own stupid idea of self-actualization. Despite it being weak in the shadow of her frustration. “Yes… just me.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He scoffs. “Yes. Just me, only me.” 

“Since when.” 

“Since this was all my fault.” He says, his own frustration pulling him up in his chair. Food forgotten and pushed aside on his desk in favor of getting closer to her. Never yelling, always explaining. And he wouldn’t and couldn’t yell if he was sitting ramrod straight in front of her. He didn’t have it in him, had no desire to watch her crumble like that. “This whole thing, all of it.” Waving his hands around, trying to emphasize the large capacity of the bullshit he had walked them both into. 

She shakes her head. “No, Stan.” He’s unbelievable at his worst, and charming at his best. But his unbelievable was becoming more mounting with every year. And some convoluted part of her mind had reasoned that it actually all hinged on her now. Thinking of that crumpled paper, and that coded string of words Stanford had left her. How he had been right about her all along, how she hadn’t even been smart enough to drag him out of his own hubris. 

“Don’t say it’s fucking yours.” He scoffs, leaning more into her. Placing his hands on her warm thigh, trying to ground her in her thoughts. 

“But it is. It’s my fault.” Choking around what she had believed to be true for the past four years. “I’m not smart enough to bring him back.” 

He surges in his seat, standing in front of her now. Shaking his head as he reaches for her. Folding her in his arms like he always does, her head balanced in the crook of his neck, humming along to soothe her like always. “That’s the farthest thing from true.” 

“But he’d be back! He s-should be back by now…” Voicing her frustration, it echoed around his chest to his ear. She’s warm in her frustration, her hands curling not around him, but up him. Finding the crook in his chest to rest them in. “And you wouldn’t be so stressed… you wouldn’t have to worry about the mortgage if he was here. We wouldn’t have to be here, it’s my f-fault he’s not here yet. It’s why I’ve been down there so often. W-why I hate when you say that.” 

She had confided herself to the basement almost indefinitely since their second year of cohabitation. More recently, it had kept her up routinely at night. First, it would drag her from her sleep, had her wandering down steep steps in the dark of the night in only her pajamas. Now it followed her into her dreams, seeping into her mind, taunting her of a far-off future she could only conjure up in her sleep. One where she succeeded. One where Stan still stood steady by her side, a gold band on his finger. It made her sick, and she knew she had been troubled by all of it for over a year now. 

He had known reasonably, that the reason for her lingering in the dark basement was for some sort of self-validation, something he could never fault her for. But he could fault himself for not dragging her into the light more often, for not being more worried about her pailing complexion and her dark-set eyes. It did worry him, it tugged him from doorway to doorway at night, made him more vigilante in the dark. But he had been so twisted in worrying about providing as of recent, he had forgotten the object of his adoration was weathering away under the weight of her own self-destruction. 

It was hard to let go of that part of his control, of what he felt was his own duty. But he knew there suddenly, looking down at her dark circles, and the way she curled up, looking so small against his chest. Knew that they’d both have to set aside some ingrained biases because in the end, they were both hypocrites. And he didn’t want her to become a mirror image of him in her grief. 

So he sighs, letting his warm hands cradle the back of her. Letting them run through her hair, letting him continue to hum. “I don’t want you to say that ever again because it ain’t true.” 

She sniffs, still goo in his hands. “You too.” She hiccups. 

He won't ever voice it to her again, he swears somewhere in the back of his mind. But it’ll linger for years, the fault in him. “Okay.”

Another beat, another adjustment from her before he voices anything again. “We both gotta help each other.” 

She nods against him, suddenly looking up at him with a weird amusement in her eyes. “Go team, remember?” 

He chuckles, “Yeah, hun. Go team.” 

She hums, finally pulling away from him and taking her warmth with her. Still folded up in front of him, her hands still in that space along his chest. Fisted in his shirt, wrinkled under her grief. 

“I can help with the money.” She says, a smile beginning to grow on her face. 

“And I can help with the portal.” He nods, his hands finding her shoulders, cupping up towards her neck. 

They congregated on the couch that night, discussing a new schedule between them. Something that would hopefully piece her back together, maybe not back to what she was all those years ago bursting in through the front door. She wasn’t herself then either, he reasoned. And it struck him then, with her curled in on the couch, still folded into the junction of his arm, her fingers tracing his palm as she finally breathed even against him. 

She looks most endearing, most like some glimpse of herself, someone he doesn’t quite know yet when she’s kneeled down talking to those kids on their back-lit porch. Halloween had come and gone again and it struck him, like it does every June and October. 

It twists into an idea in his mind, flips his stomach at the idea. Leaks into visions of her in front of the chalkboard downstairs, how she spoke of complex things in fragments for him to digest. How she paces around her chalkboard, spinning new ideas for him to consume. It came easy to her, teaching him, and he had the thought that she just might be the best he’d ever met in all his years. 

“What about teaching?” He hums, twirling his fingers around for her to continue to play with. 

She hums. “I’d be gone a lot of the day.” 

“And I’d miss ya.” He concedes. “But you need this.” He admits, leaning his chin on her head. She needed to get away from the portal, distance herself, and find a bit of life outside of what he had tied her into. 

“And you.” She glances up at him, a smile on her lips finally. Her breath warm against him. And he did, he’d admit. He needed her help with it all. But only if in doing so it helped her, too. Because he'd concede the weight of what he called duty if it shook that warped image of his father. He wanted to prove himself to her, only.

[theealbatross]

Sebastian x Reader: i love you, it's ruining my life (One Shot)

Plot | Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him. Tags | none, fluff, slytherin!reader, bad english accent attempt by me, repressed feelings, unhealthy attachment, codependency, teenagers trying to process trauma together, mentions of nightmares, they are both 17 years old [A/N : FUCK JK ROWLING!!!!!!! Also I just needed to write something and somehow a depressed Slytherin boy was just the one to cure my insane writer's block. Enjoy!]

I am not dating Sebastian Sallow, is what you kept saying yet no one seems to ever believe you. Even Natty, bless her kind soul, gave you a look so incredulous as the words went out of your mouth that you couldn’t help but be confused yourself -- were you dating Sebastian?

“I’m not trying to be nosy, my friend. I’m just concerned.”

“About what?” This has been the third person this month with that same irritating expression on their face. Pity.

“I thought … you were always together that I just assumed there was … something.”

You blinked, trying not to let your face slip, afraid that your ever observant friend would read too much into each emotion.

“Well, there’s nothing. So you and the others can –”

“There are others?!”

You widened her eyes, telling Natty to drop it and she wisely did. “The rest of you can stop reporting his rendezvous to me. Understood?”

“There you are!”

Merlin, will the cruel gods of fate ever give you a break?

The deep voice from the door cut through half of the conversations in your table as Sebastian jogged towards you. “Morning, pet.”

He casually grabbed your head gently, pressing a kiss on top of it, before settling down by straddling the chair so he was facing you. “Hey Natty, got lost?”

It wasn’t unheard of for students to not stick to the assigned tables on their houses but it was still odd, especially for someone like Natty who much preferred the company of like-minded people. Always said that the quiet and whispers in the Slytherin table made her uneasy.

Natty looked from you, to him, to the arms that was hidden under the table but was no doubt placed on your waist, subtly but insistently pulling you closer. You silently pleaded for her to ignore it which she thankfully did with a sigh.

“Not at all, Sebastian. Just trying to keep our friend company before you undoubtedly steal her away for the day.”

He didn’t even pretend to be offended by the accusation, only chuckling good-heartedly. “You can be welcome to tag along just for today.”

“Wouldn’t want to intrude. And with the trouble the two of you get into I’d be grounded by my mother for the rest of my life.”

The three of them laughed at that. The conversation thankfully flowing easier and away from the initial topic. Once Ominis arrived and Poppy was called over it was like fifth-year again. The initial circle you had formed has always been a source of comfort, no longer having to have your guard up all the time especially as easy conversation flowed between each other.

“I got some new books for you, just got delivered an hour ago. We should read it tonight.”

You fed him a piece of bread in your hands, knowing that his growing appetite has not been satiated by the plate he made for himself but he would be too lazy to make a new one and would just rather take bits and pieces from your own. “Just for me, huh?”

He grabbed a tuft of grapes before feeding you one as well before he demolished the entire thing. You couldn’t help but giggle when he spat out a small branch that managed to sneak into his mouth.

“It’s that new muggle series you love, paid off one of Ominis’ servant to line for it so you wouldn’t have to sneak out of Hogwarts like I know you had planned to tonight.”

You could feel your face heating up at the fact that he knew you too damn well. “You know I don’t like you spending money on me, Sebastian.”

“Well, you’re gonna be reading it to me so technically I’m spending money for me.”

You gave him a look but he quickly evaded it by feeding you another pair of grapes.

Sebastian had been haunted by nightmares after last year’s events. Ones so bad that the nurse feared he would be a bit too dependent on sleeping potions at such a young age. Thankfully, the two of you had found a solution together, after a late night studying in the Undercroft reading your notes aloud hoping it would stick into your head a bit better – you had turned to find your companion snoring away beside you.

At first, the two of you thought it was the history lesson that put him right to slumber so you borrowed tons of history books in the library for him to read before he slept but an enchanted note later and you were dragging your sleepy self and a blanket out of your chambers as you read about the History of Magic in his bed.

It was that night that you had been eternally grateful that he had no other roommate but Ominis. Especially when you found out that Sebastian was apparently a horrible koala when asleep.

“That’s just –”

“What are you two whispering about?”

You actually jumped, pushing Sebastian away as if the soft voice behind them reminded you of how they had actually drifted closer than what was appropriate.

“Arieta,” Sebastian greeted her with a raised brow, seemingly confused why the Ravenclaw was this far off the room not even all that affected that his new girlfriend just caught him being a bit too comfortable with another girl.

“Sebby!” she shrieked prettily, quickly recovering and pulling on his arm. “We have History of Magic together, remember? You know I can’t survive that class without your shoulder to sleep on.”

She can hear Ominis choke on a laugh yet Arieta shot you a look like it was your fault.

“I, uh,” Sebastian turned to your table, now fully aware that everyone was staring at him with various expression on their faces. “Right, let’s go.”

Ever the gentleman, Sebastian was quick to grab the books in Arieta’s arm as she held on to his hand and dragged him towards the doors.

“Arieta, huh, wouldn’t have pegged her as territorial one,” Natty chuckled, you chucked a grape at her. “What? I am only speaking my mind. Might have to watch out for that one or she might just drag poor Sebastian away from –”

Just before she finished her sentence Sebastian came bounding down the path once again stopping just beside you, catching his breath. “Hey, you’re mine tonight, okay? No adventures.”

His wording left so much to be misinterpreted that even Poppy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, damn near resembling those mooncalfs she loves so much.

"I stand corrected," Natty muttered.

“Sebby!” Arieta screamed at the end of the hallway.

Merlin’s beard.

“I’m coming!” He threw her an impatient look before holding on to your chin so you were looking at him and forcing you to nod. “No adventures.”

This time the embarrassment of the absolute mess that was unfolding before your unfinished breakfast have overwhelmed your brain that you could only nod with him.

“No adventures.”

Sebastian smiled, one of those real, bright ones that makes your body malfunction and your heart to stop beating. Pressing one last kiss on the top of your head and managing to wave to your shared friends he was off and gone through the double doors.

The entire table was left in silence and you had hoped they would let this go but Natty couldn’t give you that mercy as she cleared her throat.

“Well, now I got even more questions.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow you just think about him a lot.

You weren’t as daft as the rest of them have probably assumed. You did think there was a lot more than friendship between Sebastian and you. But with all the things that the two of you had been through it was difficult to pinpoint what it exactly was aside from their unusually intense loyalty to each other.

Was it a trauma bond? Was it just their kindred spirits refusing to let the one soul who understood them go? Did everything that they went through, the secrets they keep, the curses they threw to protect each other become the bloody ribbon that held the unhealthy attachment they had to each other? It could be love. But it could be a whole lot more complicated than that.

That’s what they were. They were complicated.

After the nightmare that was your fifth year the two of you had kept to yourselves with Ominis in tow, trying to keep as low as profile as possible and give your poor professors a break. With your newfound infamy as the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ (blergh) and the dark secret you three were desperately keeping for Sebastian, the best you could hope for was to blend in with the rest of the nameless students in Hogwarts.

That agreement got shot into hell when your dear friend Sebastian Sallow proved to be one of the best beaters in Hogwarts’ long, long history. It was a dare that exploded in your own face to try out and irritate Imelda but when he had accidentally proven to be a bit too good at it their mutual friend clutched at him with her demanding claws and put him through the ringer until he got spat out decent enough to be one of the soldiers to secure the honor of their noble house and win the Quidditch cup this year.

Piled on top of that development was his connection to the Gaunt family, the Hero of Hogwarts, and the rumor of his hefty trust fund waiting for him the moment he turns 18 – Sebastian Sallow, just as the gods intended, became the most eligible bachelor of his age.

And thus your hell begun.

The silent charm he always had with him grew with his stature. He clearly enjoyed the attention after having hid his pretty bloody face behind dangerous books all year last year that it was almost like he was compensating for the hearts he could’ve broken. Every moon it was a different girl looped around his arms and every month it was a different friend reporting to you that your presumed ‘boyfriend’ was found snogging a goddamn Gryffindor in the Three Broomsticks.

It was annoying, confusing, and you were getting sick of it.

“Over here.”

Before you could find the source of the voice you knew all too well, a door had already opened and you were quickly pulled into an empty room – well, room was being generous as it was more of a storage space than anything.

“Sebastian!”

“Shh,” you gawked when his opened palm muffled your voice as he firmly presses it on your mouth. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps and a softer call of his name echoed the hallway outside the door. When the footsteps faded and disappeared, he had the nerve to give you a lopsided grin that turned your face red in irritation. Definitely in irritation.

Nothing quite like being forced to face the boy who had been running around your head all day.

“Sorry bout that, pet,” he chuckled, leaning on the wall an arms-length way from you. “I’m not too good with break-ups, especially when they say no.”

“Must be horrifying,” you sniped shortly, also pressing your back on the nearest wall to give you as much space as possible – it would just be absolutely mortifying to faint because your heart was beating too fast it was like it was trying to escape. “Are you gonna explain why you’ve kidnapped me in this dingy room?”

“Come on now, don’t be short with me. I just wanted to hang out with you ‘s all.”

“You want to hang out with me …. Inside a closet?”

He shrugged, “I never see you anymore these days.”

Ah, the nightmares must be back. She tries to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.

“That’s not my fault, Sebastian.”

At least he looked guilty. And absolutely miserable.

In the few weeks you had taken your eyes off him it would seem he had another growth spurt. Do boys just not stop growing ever? Looking up at him was starting to get painful. Plus, all those drills they run to prepare for every game had done nothing but well for his physique. You couldn’t help but run your eyes to his broad chest and shoulders before you caught yourself and nearly screamed in horror.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Rough hands grabbed one of yours. He bent his knees so he could look in your eyes as you now outright refuse to meet his, in anger for the absolute shit friend he had been the past months or in embarrassment that you so casually checked him out you’re not quite sure. “I … I got distracted but I missed you. You know I prefer your company over any other.”

Those damned brown eyes, not even the poor light in the windowless room could dull its effect on you. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Your harsh words did not match with the growing smile on your face you failed to suppress. He mirrored your grin, “Do you still have classes?”

You shook your head.

He damn near vibrated in glee. Merlin, you did miss him.

“Let me steal you away.”

In a flash, Sebastian grabbed a hold of your hand to survey the hall one last time before dragging you out of the room and into the nearest Floo. You barely caught the surprise and anger in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes as she gawked by the stairs before you got swallowed up by a green flash of powder.

“Boathouse.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow because this is definitely not a date.

You wouldn’t think the Boathouse would be a romantic place but with the lack of students, the dimming sun and a gorgeous boy leading you in the inside of it for privacy – you couldn’t help but think that anyone who would pass by would be well within their right to think you had become another notch in Sebastian Sallow’s belt.

You’re not sure how you feel about that. A greater witch would’ve been offended but maybe you’re no better than the knots in his belt.

“Sit here.”

Sebastian spread out a worn-out black robe on the ground, patting on it expectantly. Before you could do it yourself, he was already kneeling beside you and removing your shoes and socks. The intimate act forced you to hold your breath, making sure you controlled your face so your jaw doesn’t fall to the floor as he slowly pulled on your socks, gently plopping them on the edge and letting the Black Lake’s water tickle your feet as they dangled.

When you were settled, he nonchalantly laid his head down on your lap. Gods, help you.

“Comfortable, aren’t you?”

He made a dramatic noise of satisfaction, even wiggling in your lap to show his assent. A giggle slipped out of your mouth at the absolute gall of him, your hands naturally falling in his soft, thick, brown hair to play with it.

“What had you been up to, pet?” he mumbles, eyes never leaving your face although you find yourself unable to do the same as you opted to look around the architecture of the Boathouse you rarely visit.

“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “Although I did find that swimming in the Forbidden Forest’s Lake was surprisingly relaxing.”

He hummed, not even surprised at your little antics when you leave his line of sight. The boy had definitely pulled you out of worse situations than roaming around the Forbidden Forest. “You should take me some time. Merlin knows relaxing is what I need.”

A scoff escaped your mouth as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, right after I duel your newest girlfriend for the honor of getting to take you out.”

He poked your side at that, “As entertaining that would be you know all you have to do is send me an owl and I’d trek up to Maurenweem for you.”

Your face clearly showed you didn't believe him and he frowned. Carefully, you ran a finger in-between his brows where a frown formed to relax it.

At this angle you could see the toll the sleepless nights he must’ve been having had on him. If the bags on his eyes was any indication it must’ve been a few nights now. You ran your hands on his hair earning you a satisfied hum as he dangled his hand on the edge of the ledge to play with the water below.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He popped one eye open but your gentle touch proved too much as he closed it again with an even longer hum. “A few hours last night.”

“You should’ve woken me up.”

He gently shook his head, grabbing your free hand so he can hold it by his stomach.

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Oh please, Sebastian.”

He chuckled at that, gripping on your hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath. “The nightmares … I thought it’s been better. Barely had any a few months ago. But now it’s just gotten worse.”

The confession broke your heart. Sebastian was not a vulnerable person; despite his usually easy and cheerful demeanor he was quick to wall himself in at the first sign of trouble. You would bet galleons of gold he still feels horrible of all the things he put you through and it was truly in desperation when he had called you over to help him through his insomnia. Which was also why you had welcomed the responsibility with open arms.

“Care to tell? Is it still about Anne?”

His estranged twin has been forefront of most of his darkest nightmares but he shook his head again and for that you were thankful he was spared that at least. “Solomon? Ominis?”

He opened his eyes; it was full of overflowing guilt and fear. And when it seemed he could no longer keep it to himself he sighed, “It’s about you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t …”

The revelation had your blood freezing. “What?”

He sat up, now facing you and taking both of your hands. “I’m only telling you this because you are my best friend and to remind you that none of this is ever your fault. You haven’t done a thing wrong, in fact, I can’t think how I would’ve gotten past any of this if it wasn’t for you.”

You held on to his hands tighter. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.”

He shook his head, pulling you closer as if to comfort. Why was he comforting you when it was him who had been terrorized by this dream version of you. It was irrational to be mad but how could you not be when apparently you had become one of his problems while you were simultaneously desperately trying to fix it.

A palm on your cheeks pulled you out of your self-loathing.

“All of my dreams … it was of the people I love leaving me. Anne never forgiving me for the rest of my life, Ominis turning me in …”

“Oh, Sebastian,” you buried a sob on the crook of his neck, your hand roping around his back so you can rub on his back comfortingly while he lets everything out.

“And … and every time it happens my brain drives itself insane thinking of plans of what I would do if those nightmares came true. That’s the reason why I couldn’t sleep.” You looked up at him through your lashes but never leaving your spot even as he brings your legs out of the water and over his until you were in his lap.

“But then … they turned to you.” His voice dropped so low you almost shivered. “And for the life of me I just couldn’t … see an out of that. If I lost you – If you gave up on me I … I think I’d turn myself in Azkaban myself.”

“Sebastian I would never –”

“I know that,” he whispered. “But I still can’t – I can’t let it go. I can’t let go of these doubts and fear.”

This time he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “That’s why I keep hanging out with all those girls.”

You raised your head in confusion, taking a better look at him.

“I thought if I loved you less, my nightmares would be kinder.”

The breath got caught in your throat. What is he – does he mean –

“But I couldn’t do that either,” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his face, clearly frustrated. “So I’ve decided. I’d rather go insane, let the nightmares do their worst because I am done pretending I don’t love you. I’m done avoiding you, I’m done pretending you aren’t the only light in my life. I’m done. And I love you.”

A fully grown crying Mandrake could drop from the sky and you don’t think you would’ve heard it over your own heart. You could barely comprehend anything but that his grip on your waist was so tight it was almost painful and that his pleading, terrified eyes was in the perfect angle that the late dying sun made it look like it was in a golden fire.

And that Sebastian Sallow … is in love with you. Just as madly as you were with him.

“I’m not forcing you into anything. I needed to let it out. If you want, I fully intend to formally court you until –”

“I love you.” You could no longer bear to put him in such misery. As long as you were alive, he would not question the adoration you’ve felt for him that just kept growing since the first day he had taken you to Hogsmeade. “I love you, Sebastian.”

Just for a moment there was quiet then he burst out laughing. “Thank you, darling." His body visibly shuddered as he sighed in relief, burying his face in your chest. "I’ve already planned to throw myself off the highest cliff in Hogwarts if this had gone south.”

You wrapped your hands around his neck, accepting the gentlest kisses on your neck. “Don’t say that. I plan to be your girlfriend for a very long time.”

His body shook from laughing, this time a kiss under your jaw, “Not that long I hope?”

You frowned, pulling away from him, though his unrelenting hold prevented much space to be in between the two of you. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” his thumbs rubbed circles on your thigh, now seemingly shy. “If all goes well, I had hoped to be engaged by the time we graduate. You won’t be just my girlfriend then.”

"You bastard," You gawked, laughing at his proclamation. The happiness was overflowing in your chest that you couldn’t help but just squeeze him into you hoping maybe that your souls would fuse with each other.  “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re already pre-proposing?”

He licked his lips, his sleepless eyes now full of vigor. “Ah, we gotta fix that, don’t we, pet?”

“We’re dating.”

Natty sighed in relief.

Poppy clapped.

Garreth passed Imelda a silver coin.

"Excuse me," Ominis muttered, standing up. “I'm gonna request a room change to the Headmaster.”

[zigrethsnotebook]

3 times Stan fake-proposed to you and 1 time he didn’t

Stan x Reader

words: 4,123

tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff

a/n: was allowed to borrow the idea from @stanpineskisser <3

1. Stan and you had been dating for a couple of months now. The town was slowly warming up to the idea of Mister Mystery dating someone so... 'out of his league' as you'd once heard it. You knew they just thought you were a gold-digger but you also did not care. You loved Stan. And even though he had a hard time saying it out loud, you knew he loved you, too.

Stan didn’t need to tell you how he felt, because he showed you through little gestures and gifts he'd get you. (But to call you a gold-digger because of that? He stole most of the stuff anyway!) Like today, when you two went on a date to Greasy's Diner.

It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, just a normal dinner date with Stan. But as things so often are with this man, it ended up being anything but normal.

When you two entered the Diner one thing immediately caught your eye. A new little machine stood next to the coat rack at the door. It was one of those things where you'd put a coin in, turn the handle a couple of times and a little plastic ball filled with some cheap toy would fall out. You loved these when you were a kid! The toys were always terrible but something about it always made you get something whenever you saw one of these.

Your excitement and nostalgia got the better of you. So while Stan put both of your coats away, you went and got yourself something from the machine. Grinning from ear to ear you followed Stan to an empty booth. You waited until after you had ordered your drinks to open the plastic ball.

"Where'd you get that?" Stan asked as you struggled to tear the two halves apart. "The machine at the door." You didn't even look up to answer him, you knew he wouldn't like it, call it a waste of money. He'd be right, of course, but you didn’t need to hear it.

While Stan was looking for the machine you finally managed to pull the ball apart, sending the contents flying across the table, one of the things rolling off of it. You quickly gathered them all in one spot in front of you while Stan stood up. "I gotcha."

When he spotted the little dark blue plastic ring in front of the table, he bent down on one knee, picked it up and presented it to you. You were about to take it from him when Lazy Susan appeared behind him, holding your drinks. She gasped before saying: "Oh my, Mr. Pines! Are you proposing already?" Stan looked at her quizzically for a second when you saw an opening for a free meal.

"Oh my god, Stan! I never would have thought! This is so sudden...!" You put on a real show and Stan was quick to follow your lead. "What can I say? These past few months have been the best of my life and I never want them to end! Please... marry me?"

The words were right but both of you spoke them like you were the leads in a cheap soap-opera. It didn’t matter though. Everyone cheered when you said 'yes' and fell into his arms. Stan pushed the ring onto your finger and you kissed him as dramatically as you could.

Once you two had settled back into your seats, now holding hands and making heart-eyes at each other, Lazy Susan put your drinks on your table. "Well, I think it goes without saying that you two are getting the special today. On the house! Aren't you just adorable!" You both thanked her and grinned at each other as she turned around.

After dinner, on your way back to the shack, Stan couldn't help but laugh. "Nice stunt you pulled there. Quick thinking - I like that." You smirked at him. "I learned from the best."

He shifted in his seat a little, the words he was about to say making him slightly nervous. "You do realize we'll have to pretend to be engaged now, right?" You chuckled before answering sarcastically. "Oh no, what a nightmare!"

Stan joined you with a chuckle of his own. However, he couldn't shake the warm, fuzzy feeling that was blooming in his chest at the thought of being engaged to you.

2. About two weeks later Stan asked you out to dinner again. "And put on something nice. We're going to a fancy restaurant today. Because I'm planning to propose to you!" You were about to question him when he showed you a little blue box. When he opened it you recognised the little blue plastic ring from the Diner and smiled a crooked smile.

"And here I was, thinking you were going to propose to me for real," you sighed dramatically, "but I suppose a scam for a free dinner will do." You smirked at Stan as he put the box into his jacket. "I'll be back in five." You kissed his cheek and turned on your heels to put on some nicer clothes.

As you walked away you had to calm your racing heart with a few steadying breaths. What happened at Greasy's was dumb luck, but the fact that Stan wanted to pull the same scam again, on purpose this time, left you feeling giddy.

You lived for the excitement Stan brought into your life. Scamming, shoplifting, pug smuggling or robbing his rival of a clown painting - Nothing beat the adrenalin rush of doing something illegal, running away hand in hand and then sinking into each other, laughing hysterically.

This scam in particular though? It felt a little different. You knew that this would only work if the people at the restaurant believed that you two were so in love that you'd want to marry each other. Not that it was very difficult for you. You two had been dating a good while and you really loved him. But the topic of marriage had never even crossed your mind before.

Then again, this was only a scam. He wasn't actually proposing to you. After all, you had roped him into this at Greasy's and now he was just taking advantage of a good situation.

Still, as you looked in the mirror, all dressed up in your fanciest dark red suit, you decided that you'd put on an even better show than last time.

When you met Stan again in the living room he eyed you up and down before stepping towards you and grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to him. His voice was low. "You look gorgeous, doll."

Your hands found his chest and traced his skin in the part of his shirt he'd left unbuttoned. "You clean up nice yourself, handsome." You all but purred at him. Stan chuckled, a smirk on his face. "Don't tempt me, sweetcheeks. Let's get dinner first."

You both chuckled and pulled apart so Stan could lead you to the front door. He kept one of your hands in his up until he opened the car door for you, allowing you to climb inside, before he shut the door. He walked over to the driver's side and you two drove off.

Stan had picked a restaurant a good 40 minute drive from the shack so by the time you arrived you were starting to get really hungry. Stan had put in a reservation beforehand which meant you were quickly seated and presented with a nice red wine Stan had ordered for the both of you.

He promised you he'd only drink one glass and then switch to soda and you believed him. Stan had assured you time and time again that nothing was more important to him than your safety.

You held his hands on top of the table and you both stared into each other's eyes, really going all out on the lovey-dovey stuff. Normally, Stan would roll his eyes and groan at people who behaved like this, but when he could use it to scam someone? He was not holding back.

He softly spoke sweet nothings over the table, quiet enough to be believable, loud enough to make sure the staff heard him. He peppered your hands in soft kisses and smiled at you like you were the light of his life.

Hell, if you didn’t plan for this to be a scam then you would have believed him. You couldn't help the way a gentle blush crept onto your cheeks at the sight of Stan picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles without breaking eye contact with you.

Just as Stan saw the waiter approaching again out of the corner of his eyes, he put on the real show. He stood up, his chair screeching backwards slightly and declared: "I can't wait any longer." Stan pulled the blue box from one of his pockets and got down on one knee in front of you as he addressed you by name.

"You are by far the best thing that's ever happened to me. Your smile is what lets me get up in the morning and I would be honored if you would allow me to see your smile every day for the rest of our lifes. Please. Will you marry me?"

You watched him, real shock and surprise making its way to your face with every word he spoke. You had to manually remind yourself that this was just a scam and Not a real proposal. Without your permission your voice went shaky as you breathed out a "Yes, of course!" and went in for a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Why was this having such a strong effect on you? You knew this was coming, you should have been prepared for this!

It didn’t matter because you didn’t have much time to dwell on it. When you parted the kiss you tuned back into the real world and heard the other customers applauding. The waiter had now reached the both of you and declared that for true love like yours your meal would be on the house. The customers applauded again as you both settled back into your seats.

You admired the dark blue ring Stan had slipped onto your finger and Stan quickly covered it with his own hand when the waiter brought out your plates, knowing full well that with one closer look every idiot would see that the ring is just plastic.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Two couples congratulated you both on their way out and you thanked them accordingly.

After you were done and back on the road Stan was first to speak up. "You were real convincing today. Almost made me think you thought it was a real proposal." He kept his eyes on the road but the smirk on his lips was still very clear.

You chuckled. "Yeah, right. To be fair, you weren't half bad yourself. 'Your smile is what lets me get up in the morning'? Now that's some true romantic stuff. Did you learn that from The Duchess Approves?" You tried to play it cool by teasing him. It seemed to do the trick.

"Hey! I can be romantic!" You chuckled fondly. "Yes, I know, love." Stan's expression softened at the nickname. He wanted to tell you just how much he loved you, too, but he just couldn't get the words out so instead, he just put his right arm over the backrest of your seat and pulled you towards him slightly as he continued to drive home.

You leaned into his touch and held up your left hand to look at the ring again. "Hm... How about I give this back to you, in case we want to do this again sometime?" You smiled as you pulled the ring off your finger and dropped it into the chest pocket of Stan's shirt.

3. It was late spring as you and Stan decided to go to a fair, one town over. You two walked along the many different attractions together, your arm lazily around his torso, his hand gently resting on your hip. Your pace was very slow, because at every other stall he squeezed your hip lightly to pull you closer and whispered in your ear how exactly they were scamming the customers. Every time he'd get a chuckle or a gentle swat to his chest from you.

As you two were passing by a Tin Can Alley, you spotted a gorgeous bear plushie that was just one fez short of looking like Stan. Just as you were about to ask him to play a round with him he pulled you closer again. "Ah, the Tin Can Alley. Did you know that they put a bit of double sided tape under the cans so they're harder to knock over?"

You swatted him lightly again and he chuckled. "No! Stan! Don't tell me that! I wanted to play a round with you. That bear looks so much like you, I wanted to win one." He looked a little puzzled at you, then at the bear, and back at you again. "I don't see it."

Even though he hated hearing you say it, he was plain adorable at times. A fond smile graced your lips even though you sighed in disappointment. "It's okay, let's go." You went to take a step forward but Stan stopped you. "Nah, let's play anyway." "But-" He cut you off and stepped towards the stall. "Come on! My treat." Stan flashed his teeth and winked at you. Was he planning something?

You were the only people at the stall so the man in charge of it noticed you two immediately. Stan squinted at him. "What do we need to do to get that bear?" He pointed at the plushie dangling above your heads.

The man smiled at him. "Good choice, sir. For that one you should only need three balls." He placed three balls on the counter between the men. "There is a catch though. You see these stacks?" He pointed at the three pyramids of stacked cans behind him. "You'll need to clear all three of them completely. Care to try? It's only three dollars."

Stan pulled three dollars out of his pocket and placed them on the counter, then gently nudged you closer to it. "Give it your best shot, doll." You smiled at Stan and took the first ball as the man behind the counter put the money away.

You positioned yourself in front of the first stack, took a deep breath and threw the ball. It hit the second of three rows, knocking four out of six cans to the ground. "Hoho! Good one! But not quite good enough for the bear I'm afraid." You frowned, disappointment filling your chest again.

"Yeah, not an option, pal. How about you just keep 'em coming, huh?" The man smiled at Stan again, although this time it looked a little more like a smirk. "Gladly, sir! Every extra ball is an extra dollar." As he said this he put one extra ball on the counter. Stan grumbled quietly and pulled another dollar out of his pocket while the man restacked the cans.

When the man was done and took the dollar, Stan looked at you, encouraging you to try again. This time you actually managed to clear the first stack. You threw your arms up in triumph and Stan huffed but the look in his eyes was of pure adoration. The second stack was less easy though, you only knocked off three cans this time. You needed an extra ball.

This went on until Stan had spent exactly eleven dollars. You had counted along. After that, when you hadn't cleared the cans again and looked at Stan expectantly, he put on his saddest face and pulled his pockets inside out, proving that he had 'no money left' and you couldn't continue.

Stan sighed sadly, shook his head and turned to you again. "I'm so sorry... I wanted to make this the best day ever but..." He looked wistfully up at the plushie and then back to you. "I suppose it doesn't matter that much." Stan rummaged through the inside of his jacket and pulled out the tiny box you'd come to recognize. You let your eyes widen in fake surprise.

He bent down on one knee, opened the box and presented it to you. You gasped as you saw the ring again. "Will you marry me?" You looked between Stan and the ring a couple times, pretending to be shocked at this scenario, before you nodded vigorously and stepped forward, hugging your boyfriend and repeating the word 'yes' a couple of times.

Some passersby 'aw'-ed and applauded as you pulled back slightly to press a loving kiss to Stan's lips. You'd never get tired of this. As Stan pushed you back just enough to slip the ring onto your finger, you could hear the man at the stall quietly sigh in annoyance. You went in for another kiss to Stan's lips, really selling the proposal.

When you broke the kiss again, you two were presented with the bear plushie, sitting for you on the counter. "If this is what it will take to make this the best day ever for two lovers, who am I to stand in your way?" The man said as he slid the bear over to you.

You gladly took it, hugging it tightly and throwing a couple 'Thank you!'-s at the man while Stan grabbed him by the shoulder and told him: "Thanks, man. I knew you were a true romantic at heart."

With that, you two left the fair. You had everything you needed. Back in the car, you slipped the ring off your finger and handed it back to Stan before nuzzling your face into your new favorite plushie, which you lovingly and creatively named Stan two or Stan the second.

You didn’t see it, but Stan's expression softened as you did that. He adored you so much. The way you were able to pull off these scams with him so effortlessly. The way your genuine joy for life made him actually want to spend money on silly things like this. You had changed his life for the better and didn’t even know it.

In that very moment Stan started planning exactly how and where the next time he'd propose to you would happen.

1. You and Stan sat in Greasy's Diner, sipping on some soda. Stan had asked you out to dinner and you had assumed he was planning to fake-propose to you again, but as he pulled up to the Diner you realized that that wasn't the plan. He couldn't pull the same thing here again, they thought you were already engaged!

Even so, Stan had put on one of his nicer outfits. A red shirt with the top few buttons unbuttoned to show off his gold-chain and a decent amount of chest hair. His tan jacket was thrown over the backrest as you sat down at a booth. You had also worn something nice, not too fancy, but nice enough for the kind of restaurant you thought he'd take you to.

Stan clearly enjoyed your outfit, it showed off all the right curves while not giving too much away... he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. It made you chuckle as Lazy Susan stood in front of your table and Stan seemingly hadn't even noticed her. "Hey! Earth to Stan!" You called out to him and he snapped out of it. "What would you like to eat?" You grinned at him as he ordered.

When Lazy Susan walked back to the kitchen you spoke up again with a chuckle. "I know I look good in this, but you're overdoing it a little." Stan just rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Haha... yeah. Sorry." You furrowed your brows at him. You had expected him to have some witty, suggestive comeback but instead he apologized? Something was off.

You watched him fidget with his hands in front of him, his eyes darting around the room and the table, anywhere but your eyes really. It was starting to worry you. "Stan? Are you alright?" Concern laced your voice and made Stan finally face you. His cheeks immediately went bright red.

"Th-There's nothing for you to worry about, doll, I promise." Your eyebrows stayed knitted together as you nodded slowly. He was clearly lying and also very nervous about it, but you knew better than to push him. He'd tell you eventually. He always does.

After a few minutes in silence, with Stan going back to fidgeting and not looking at you, Lazy Susan brought you both your meals. You thanked her and dug in. Meanwhile Stan quietly sighed in disappointment before starting to eat as well.

You were about halfway through your meal when Stan got up. You didn’t pay much attention to it and just assumed he had to use the restrooms. When you looked up and saw his plate though, you halted. The fork in your hand landed back on your plate as you wondered why Stan had barely eaten anything.

Someone cleared their throat beside you and when you turned to look it was Stan in front of you on one knee, holding a tiny red box. You quickly swallowed the food that was still in your mouth as Stan addressed you with your full legal name. He was blushing a deep red and you could feel your cheeks trying to match his.

"I know I've said this before but I want you to know that I truly mean it this time." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "These past few months with you have been the best of my life and I would spend all the money in the world to keep your smile in my life forever."

Your eyes welled up with tears as you realized what was happening. "I have become a better man and I blame you for that entirely." A wet chuckle escaped your lips. "I guess what I really want to say is..." Stan took another deep breath, then looked into your eyes. "I love you."

A few tears were flowing freely now as Stan opened the box in his hands to present you the most gorgeous silver ring you had ever seen. It held a little red gemstone between silver swirls that reflected the light from the Diner like a sunset over the ocean. "Will you marry me?"

You lept out of your seat into Stan's arms, knocking him backwards onto the floor. "Yes! Yes! A million times yes!" Stan could feel your tears staining his shirt but he couldn't care less. A massive weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that he could now call you his fiancé without having to lie about it.

With some difficulty he managed to sit you both back up so he could take your hand and place the real ring onto your finger. Admiring the sight he pressed a kiss to it, as if sealing it there.

You pressed your forehead to Stan's, holding the hand with the ring between you. "I love you, Stan." He sighed, finally content. "I love you, too."

After a few moments on the floor like that, Lazy Susan came up next to you. "Didn’t you propose two months ago?" Stan let out a gruff laugh, the one that always made you smile. "No, I didn’t. Just faked it to get a free meal." He beamed at her but Lazy Susan frowned.

She turned around and while Stan helped you up and into your seat again she came back with a broom in her hands. She smacked him with it from behind. Once, twice. Stan stammered out some halfhearted apologies as she kicked him out of the Diner.

You laughed all the way and when she came back to your table you apologized sincerely, asked her nicely to pack both of your meals up to go and told her that you'd pay for both these meals, and the ones you had two months ago.

She agreed happily, and when you stepped outside with your food, you found Stan next to his car, rubbing his ass. You laughed and told him that you'd finish your dinner at home, just the two of you.

That seemed to lift Stan's spirits again. He almost sprinted around the car to open the door for you and when you both got home you celebrated your real engagement appropriately.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

the boss’s daughter (gr63)

george russell x wolff!reader

summary: you become attached to a certain british driver, but he panics when he thinks about the repercussions of your relationship

notes: i’ve only ever written george one other time and it didn’t get all that much love, but that could’ve been bc the tags weren’t working so we’ll see how this goes. i hate having to do math with ages when it comes to fics so we’re all going to pretend that toto and susie are older than they are so they can have a daughter who is age appropriate for george 👍

Your father had tried his hardest, for years, to get you interested in racing. Your parents were Susie and Toto Wolff for god’s sake, it didn’t make any sense to him why you were so disinterested in cars.

Susie tried to convince him it was okay. “So she’s not going to be a Formula One driver, she’ll find something else. Something she enjoys.”

Little did they know that something was going to end up a someone.

Some might’ve called it lazy, your gift to your father on father’s day being the promise you’d attend a race weekend with him. But you would call it financially responsible.

You mother made you keep your promise, even after gifting him something he’d actually use.

“It’ll make him so happy.” She cooed at you.

And happy he was, taking you around the paddock from garage to garage, introducing you to the other team principals, even a few of the drivers. You ended your tour back at the Mercedes building, you father’s arm over your shoulder as he guided you through the crowds.

He tugs you along with him as he talks to the engineers. You’re sure it’s important, but to you it just sounds like nonsense droning on.

Your eyes wander around the garage, stopping on the two drivers standing in the corner.

You’d met Lewis before, you father adored the man. He was invited to various family gatherings and parties. He was sweet, his dog Roscoe even sweeter.

You hadn’t met George yet though. Sure, you’d seen him on the team instagram, accidentally turning himself into a meme practically every weekend.

You watch as George talks animatedly with Lewis, his hair slightly falling into his face. Lewis eventually gives George a pat on his arm, then walks away, leaving the younger driver alone.

“You haven’t taken me to meet George yet.” You tell your father once he’s finished with the engineers, softly tugging at his arm.

He pulls you over to the young British driver, who seems to stand up straighter in the presence of your father.

“George, this is my daughter, Y/n.” He introduces you.

When George’s eyes meet yours, you can’t help but drown in them. The soft green practically glitters in the sun.

“Nice to meet you.” He says, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand in yours and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Toto looks between the two of you and very quickly notices the glint in your eyes. He also notices the way George’s lips tilt upwards in a soft smile.

“Alright, c’mon, let’s leave George to get ready.” He says, attempting to pull you away from George.

“But I want to see the car.” You keep yourself planted in front of George.

“You can go see Lewis’ car. I’m sure George wants some time alone before the race.”

“I can show her. I’m not busy.” George says, shrinking slightly when Toto’s eyes meet his.

“Alright.” Toto says gruffly, making sure to follow right behind you as George leads you to his side of the garage.

George almost looks nervous as he shows you his car, pointing out different things, then showing you everything on the steering wheel. You step closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as he points at the different buttons.

Toto lets out a breath when it’s time for George to actually get ready for the race and get in the car. He pulls you back over to where he sits with the engineers and sits you down next to him.

The race is long, but at least if you watch the screens you’ll actually be able to see the cars driving as opposed to their zooming by on the actual track.

George only makes it barely outside the podium, scoring P4 after the race. You watch as he pulls his helmet and balaclava off in frustration. His golden hair sticks out in every direction. A light sheen of sweat coats his face, and you can see the light pink imprints on his cheeks from the balaclava.

You’re able to escape your father for a moment after the race to find George talking to some of the Mercedes workers. He’s got his race suit tied around his waist and a water bottle in his hands.

“Hi George.” You say when there’s a break in their conversation.

“Hi Y/n.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I hope you enjoyed your first race.”

You shrug. “It was alright. I much preferred the company before and after the race.” You tell him, letting your hand trail up and down his bicep.

He flushes under your gaze, stuttering out a quick “thank you” before he’s pulled away.

He doesn’t see you again that day, hoping that you’ll decide to attend another race sometime in the future.

You do, hoping to see the British driver again, maybe this time without your father watching over you like a hawk.

You attempt to seem more casual in the garage this week, only letting your eyes wander occasionally in search of George. He’s not hard to find, his height making him easy to see.

You catch his eye as he gets ready for the race. He gives you a soft smile, to which you reciprocate and give him a wink. His face flushes as he quickly tugs the balaclava over his head.

He doesn’t get a podium, but stays pretty high in the points. He’s slick with sweat when he gets out of his car, his hair is flattened to his head, and sticks out when he runs his hands through it.

He lets out a breath when he gets back to his driver’s room, closing the door behind him, but feels it get caught in his throat again when he sees you on his couch.

“Hey George. Good race.” You tell him.

“Th-thank you.” He stutters out. “Who let you in here?” He doesn’t sound put off or offended in his question, he’s genuinely curious as to how you found your way to his room.

“My dad is the team principal. I have access to pretty much wherever I want.” You stand up and slowly walk over to him. “Look at your hair.” You say as you softly run your fingers through the golden strands, attempting to straighten them out.

George huffs out a small laugh, not sure what to do. You’re very close to him now, practically pressed up against him. He can see the sparkles in your eyes, and can smell your sweet shampoo.

You catch his eyes wandering around, seemingly looking anywhere but at you. You use your fingers yo tilt his chin down so that he has to look at you. You smirk up at him.

“Do I make you nervous George?” You ask softly.

His cheeks flush. “No, no, I’m fine.” He gives you an unconvincing smile.

“You are actually.” You tell him as you lean towards him. You give him plenty of time to back away before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

The kiss is brief, teasing. George can’t quite process it’s happening before you pull away.

You give him a soft pat on his chest, the black fireproofs smooth under your hand. “See you later George.” You wink, then leave him in his driver’s room.

George can’t seem to look his boss in the eye after your encounter in his room, especially not when you seem to find him at every race, and pull him into secluded rooms or hallways with your lips attached to his.

He’s in dangerous territory, he knows that. But he can’t stop. Not when your tongue is practically down his throat, and not when he holds you in his arms in his hotel room at night. He’s grown attached to you, addicted one might even say.

He doesn’t know what this is, neither of you have put a label on it yet, but the time you’re spending together sure feels an awful lot like the time a couple would spend together.

He was equally relieved and terrified when you told him that you wanted to make your relationship public. It was in his hotel room, you were wrapped up in his arms and a blanket, playing with his hands when you told him. He was glad to hear that you were in fact dating, that his heart could stop clenching every time he was with you, wondering if it was going to be the last.

He however knew that he was not mentally or physically prepared to find out what was going to happen when Toto found out. Was he going to lose his job? His life? Both were reasonable expectations in his head.

You’d been around George long enough now to sense his unease. You sit up, slightly pulling yourself away from him. “Unless… you don’t want to…”

He can’t speak, he can’t find the right words to say, he’s seemingly paralyzed.

“Okay. I get it.” You say, getting up from his bed. “You can’t date the boss’s daughter. Obviously. It was stupid to think this could work.”

He scrambles up from the bed when he finally processes your words. His sweatpants get caught in the blanket, tugging them lower down his hips. “Y/n, wait-”

You grab your small bag you brought to his room and walk to the door. “It’s okay George. Really, I understand.” You sigh. “I had fun though.” You give him a small smile before leaving.

He gives you space for the rest of the night, hoping that he’ll be able to find you at the track the next day to talk things through. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see you anywhere. He attempts to casually ask Toto where you had gone.

Toto doesn’t think twice before answering. “She wasn’t feeling well. She took a plane back home this morning.”

He waits for you to appear again, race after race after race, hoping that you’ll come back and talk to him. He tries calling, texting, even messaging you via instagram, all of which go ignored.

He feels like he’s lost a part of himself. And he’s determined to get that back.

Toto is surprised to find George at the door to his home over the break. The poor British driver wrapped up in a coat, shivering, clutching an almost frozen looking bouquet in his hands.

“George? What are you doing?” He asks.

George takes a deep breath. “I’m here to see Y/n. We were together during the season, but I made a mistake, and now I’m here to apologize and ask her if she’ll have me. Again.”

Toto looks even more confused. “You were dating my daughter?”

George gulps. “Yes. I was. And it was amazing, and I really care about her. And I would like to keep… dating your daughter…” he trails off.

“Leave.” Toto attempts to shut the door.

“Dad?” George sees you appear behind your father. “George, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize. I shouldn’t have let you leave, and I should’ve been able to make our relationship public. I’m here to ask you for another chance.”

You brush your father out of the way, and grab onto George’s free hand, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. His hand is freezing, and you feel just how cold his cheeks are when you softly cup his face. You don’t know if the pink blush on his face is from you or the cold.

“No. This is not happening. Absolutely not.” Toto says.

“Dad, I’m dating George. Whether you like it or not.” You turn to face him. “George is a good guy. You know that, you see him practically every weekend. And I’m going to be very upset if you kill and/or fire my boyfriend.”

Toto looks back and forth between the two of you. George with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you with a pout on your lips and your eyebrows raised, as if challenging him to do something.

“Fine. You can date my daughter. But no sneaking away at races.” Then he looks directly at you. “No going into his driver’s room.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I won’t go into George’s driver’s room anymore.”

“Anymore?!”

You giggle as George tries to hide himself behind you.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— BEING DEAN’S WIFE

REQUEST : “Hey, can i request a hcs of be Dean Winchester or Jensen ackles wife? and be super sweet and pure girl that is younger than them” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : fluff, angst (if you squeeze your eyes together, til you make a crescent moon shape), a little bit of nsfw at the very end bc it’s hilarious

A/N : uh, yeah, here’s a little gift! I didn’t wanna do university work so i did this instead ☺️ anyway, i think this is just a list of things i love about dean… LMAO XXXX

he will just stare at you for no reason

well, the reason is actually that he thinks your lovely to look at LOL

all those chick flicks he secretly loves to watch? yeah, he’ll recite the romantic stuff because he’s literally down bad for you

… he’s cringing on the inside but also knows he means every word

he’s so pathetic for you and he doesn’t even care

he loves to give you forehead kisses

and he wants them, too, but your lips need to linger a bit, and he’ll close his eyes and just release all the tension in his body because he’s touch starved

he plays with your wedding ring when your hand is right there in his line of sight

he will hold your hand and just stare at the way the ring shines in the sunlight and he will grin like a gigantic dork

ex : if your talking to him or someone else, he’ll just take your hand and gently run his fingers over the ring

he likes when you hold his head against your stomach

when he’s sitting and you’re standing and you move between his legs just to hold his adorable little face close to you, HE LOVES THAT

you’ll let him talk for hours about things he likes, things he wants to share with you

and when you admit you have no idea what he’s talking about when he makes references to old pop culture stuff, he’ll show you everything

.. if all that stuff he references was associated with something else, now it’s all associated with you and him

it’s like THERAPY, to redo stuff with you, to make it his again, and yours

teaching him how to use technology because he’s an old man (affectionate), and he learns fast bc he’s SMART

LOL, witnessing firsthand how genius and resourceful dean is when something breaks [yeah, I can’t stop thinking about him making his own EMF and Sammy being a complete NIPPLEHEAD (affectionate) about it ! as a STEM girly that was so sexy of dean]

HELLO HE SINGS, TO YOU. HE WILL SING YOU ALL THE LOVE SONGS OMG

or he’ll just sing randomly and not even notice that you’re listening to him

silence, comfortable silence, not sad, just.. peaceful

he likes not having to say anything sometimes, just being there with you

he plays with your hair A LOT, he’ll take strands and just feel the texture of it between his fingertips, he’ll even try to do your hair if you let him, if it’s long enough

CUDDLES, he needs that, too.

but he’d rather be on top when you cuddle, with his cute face on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, to your breathing, falling asleep if you run your fingers gently along his back or if you play with his hair

Dean starts mumbling a lot against your chest or shoulder when you’re just relaxing and having lazy conversation as you cuddle

how about KISSING HIS LITTLE DIMPLES??? idk about you but I just wanna kiss his little dimples when he does that specific SMILE or POUT, ya know what I mean! •ᴗ•?? or •~• ???

he flirts with you because you blush so easily

he gets flustered when you flirt back, BC HE’S NOT USED TO IT

he looks like a strawberry, just eatable, with the tips of his ears all red, then the pinkish hue pouring across his freckled cheeks and down his neck in cute little splotches 😭 ALRIGHT YEAH I THINK ABOUT THIS OFTEN

teasing him ABOUT EVERYTHING because that’s hilarious, and he’s indignant but also knows you’re so right and he’ll roll his eyes at you and pretend he’s mad

he can never be mad at you, only playfully!

UHHH ! KISSING THE LITTLE WRINKLES AT THE CORNER OF HIS PRETTY EYES !!!

squeezing him very tightly when you hug and just holding him until he’s practically putting all his weight over you like a willow tree

he’ll bother you on purpose, especially if you’re serious

ex : he takes strands of your hair and will put it in your ear LMAOO or tickle your face with it bc he’s never gonna let a single moment be boring

he grins like the cutest idiot in the world and you can’t be mad at him because he looks LIKE THAT, like the cutest idiot in the whole universe

wearing his clothes and pretending to be him, he thinks it’s cute and funny

he’ll hold your face a lot

and kiss you all over bc you’re cute and pure and deserve all the affection he can offer

and his hands are big and calloused, but he’s so tender and gentle, and warm

hugs from behind

smashing your face into his back and taking in the smell of his body (Mrs Butters lied, Dean smells good)

he’ll love the smell of your hair when he nuzzles into your neck, or the smell of your skin, or the softness of it

going on cute dates, like picnics, watching movies, going to the cinema, going to comic book stores

watching Disney movies together and he can recite the Dory movie by heart because HE LOVES THAT FISH FR

he’ll make you playlists of songs that remind him of you

He takes lots of photos, Polaroids are his favourite because he gets to put them anywhere and everywhere so he can smile and see you if you’re ever busy

you’ll always dress up on Halloween or just for fun whenever he wants

✨healing his inner child✨

grocery shopping together, he pouts when you don’t let him be unhealthy

if you’re short, he’s making fun of you for being shorter than him when he has to reach for stuff on shelves that you can’t reach even on your toes

he teaches you how to cook if you don’t know how to

and you eat the crazy food combinations he comes up with, like those marshmallow mac and cheese he said he made for Sam when they were kids , I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THAT TASTES LIKE

he teaches you how to fix cars! he’ll stare at you when you’re being silly ANYWAY PLS TEACH ME DEAN PLS

HAHAHAHAH but like hahahahah as in, 👀 the cute little names he calls you, and you thought they were cringe when couples said them to each other but actually when HE says it to YOU it makes you swoon and you blush, but you pretend you hate it at first because you’re not used to it but he can see through you, you love it

(I’m convinced that if he calls me darlin’, I will die on the spot, or my illnesses will be cured idk idk, I just know something spontaneous or magical will happen)

sharing everything, as in food

he’ll eat your leftovers, if there are any

or if he likes your stuff better than what he’s got, he’ll eat it when he think you’re not looking, but you are definitely aware, you’re just pretending because he’s so cute

trying all the Starbucks drinks together

having to deal with his grumpiness in the morning

even better, you’re not a morning person either so you’re both grumpy

he’s so cute when he’s had his first cup of coffee in the morning :’)

when you shower together, you both play with the shampoo on you heads LMAO

he gives really good massages, like MIND-BLOWINGLY GOOD, I know them hands are magical

BUYING EACH OTHER JEWELLERY, he’s too pretty to not wear jewellery

kissing his freckles BC HES CUTE AND he blushes

kissing his scars (flashback of emo memes) NO, not saying anything about them, just gently pressing your lips on his sensitive skin so he’s not insecure about all of them

reading all sorts of magazines together BC THERES NO TOXIC MASCULINITY IN MY HOUSEHOLD AND MY BOY IS ALLOWED TO DO WHAT HE WANTS YA DUMB— right, anyway

he throws you over his shoulder and then walks around to bother you

butt smacking, that’s it, imagine the possibilities

pretending he’s picking you up at bars (like Claire and Phil from Modern Family 😭)

he’ll throw out his best pick up lines and you have to hold in your laughter at the faces he makes ALSO it works bc that’s your husband

being the best husband when you’re sick

making the yummiest foods and making sure your taking natural vitamins along with medicine

hanging out with you the whole time, not caring that you’re sick even though he’s kind of a germaphobe

whining a lot when he’s sick, but he’s partially just messing with you bc he wasn’t allowed to whine about anything as a kid (I’m right behind you, John)

he’s holding your boobs for comfort LMAO

I feel like he likes to bite, so he bites you a lot for no reason, and then goes about his day

pretending to have accents

more importantly, Dean knows how to speak Spanish, supernatural lied (all that porn and all those novelas and nothing stuck? nah, he’s very good at Spanish)

so he’ll try to seduce you with his Spanish speaking skills (and if you’re Latina/hispanic like me, you think it’s so sexy or it’s just plain cute, idk yet)

playing video games together and being very competitive

he’s very clean and very neat so you never have to tell him to clean up after himself !

he’s very protective of you, but never oversteps bc he knows you can handle yourself

he likes introducing you as his wife

it’s probably not even necessary but he’ll say it very loud and with a gigantic smile and he’ll embarrass you but it’s okay bc it’s Dean

he lies and says he’s your sugar daddy when people comment about the age gap

dude, dude, he’ll tease you a lot like… 🤣 he’ll copy your moans, or repeat stuff you said to him during sex. he’ll tell you very descriptively about how it all went down and the faces you made and the sounds you made.. you know, like in rock and a hard place [09.08]

especially if you’re shy

you wanna strangle him, but you don’t bc he’s the love of your life !

did I do this right? :( doesn’t matter, add some headcannons in the tags or comments 😭 i love husband!dean

taglist

@rominaszh @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy This is going to get WILD!

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 (You're here) , PART 20

More of "The Gates of Avalon"

Arthur and Merlin encounter Sophia and his father while hunting, and, althought Arthur already knows is a trap he goes to their rescue cause this Merlin doesn't know that (as far as he knows) and it would be weird if he didn't come to a damisel's rescue.

Merlin: (tries to kill the sidhes with magic subtly)

Sophia and Aulfric: (block Merlin's magic with their staff just as subtly)

Merlin: (thinking, frustrated) Damn, their magic is blocking mine! (makes a branch fall on one of the bandits)

Arthur: (noticing the branch fall while still fighting other bandit, thinking) I should have known.🙄 (finishes to kill the bandit off and turns to the sidhes, thinking) Could it be that I can slay them and pretend it was an accident?

Sophia: (Turns her eyes red as soon as Arthur's eyes find hers)

Arthur: (Thinking) What the- (his thoughts turn off)

Merlin: (concerned) Arthur?

Echanted Arthur: (ignores him and goes to Sophia) Are you alright? They didn't hurt you?

Sophia: (takes of her hood seductivily) No, thanks to you. I'm Sophia, This is my father.

Echanted Arthur: Arthur Pendragon (he smiles chivalry) at your service. (kisses her hand)

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, fuck.

Time skip. Merlin and Arthur in Arthur's chambers.

Echanted Arthur: Make sure to put her in a decent room.

Merlin: There's an empty room in the other side of the castle, sire. I think it's perfect.

Echanted Arthur: Aren't the chambers next to mine empty?

Merlin: Those are mine, sire.

Arthur: (coming back to his senses) Oh... that... that's true... Why... why did I...?

Merlin: (seeing his chance, holds Arthur by the shoulders) Arthur, listen to me. Sophia is echanting you!

Arthur: (thinking) Shit! (says) I... I have to tell my father... I... (trails off)

Merlin: Arthur?

Echanted Arthur: Of course I'm echanted, Merlin. Sophia is a beauty.

Merlin: (sighs, forcing a smile, and lets go of him) She certainly is.

Echanted Arthur: (frowns) What is it?

Merlin: Hmm?

Echanted Arthur: That smile was not genuine.

Merlin: I just... don't have a good feeling about her. It's all.

Echanted Arthur: (snorts) You and your funny feelings, Merlin. (thinks for a moment) But if it makes you feel more at easy, put her in the room you suggested.

Merlin: (relieved) Of course, sire. (bows and leaves)

Echanted Arthur: (shouts as Merlin leaves) Just so you know, my intentions towards Sophia are completely honorable! (mutters to himself) Such a paranoid.

Time skip. Arthur talking to Merlin while he makes his bed.

Echanted Arthur: So, I need you to cover for me-

Merlin: (dryly) No.

Echanted Arthur: Excuse me?

Merlin: I won't lie to the king just so you can get laid.

Echanted Arthur: (offended) I'm just taking Sophia out for a ride, I would never-

Merlin: Sophia this, Sophia that, would you shut up! 😡

Echanted Arthur: (confused) What's wrong with you?

Merlin: (sighs, calming down) Nothing, but I won't do it.

Echanted Arthur: Oh, Come on! I promised Sophia I'd take her out and if I don't turn up, it'll blow up my chances.

Merlin: Good.

Echanted Arthur: (frowns) I thought we were friends.

Merlin: (angry again, almost shouting) Don't you dare use that on me! I don't care that you're enchanted! Friends don't make each other lie to the King risking they would end up in the stocks or flogged! Friends don't dismiss the other's advice. I told you I don't have a good feeling about her and you still don't care, so fine! Go, but I won't cover for you and if you decide I'm not your friend for that, then we're not friends! (his voice breaks at the end and his eyes water a little)

Echanted Arthur: (very shocked)...

Merlin: (composes himself and continues to make the bed, turning his back at Arthur)

Echanted Arthur: (frowns, feeling bad for upsetting Merlin though he doesn't know why) We ARE friends, Merlin. (taps his back) You're right, I shouldn't have asked that of you. I'm sorry. I'll tell Sophia I'll take her out another time, maybe later today when I'm actually free.

Merlin: (still not looking at him, finishes to make the bed with hard movements) Of course you will.

Echanted Arthur: And maybe you can come with us.

Merlin: (finally turns, surprised) What?

Echanted Arthur: This way you'll see what I see.

Merlin: (confused) I'll see what?

Echanted Arthur: That there is nothing not to like about her! 😍

Merlin: (sighs) Right...😒

Time skip. Arthur goes to his date with Sophia with Merlin.

Sophia: (her smiles fades as he sees Merlin arriving with Arthur) What is he doing here?

Merlin: Trust me, I don't like this more than you do. 😒

Echanted Arthur: Ha, ha, he's joking 😄 (shoves Merlin playfully, then scolds him in a whisper) Be nice.(to Sophia) Merlin is my personal manservant, I thought it wouldn't hurt to bring him to carry our things and serve us in whatever we need.

Merlin: (thinking) I just came so you wouldn't get yourself killed, you little sh- (forces a polite smile at Sophia) It would be my pleasure to serve you, Lady Sophia. (bows)

Echanted Arthur: He could carry your staff for y- (about to take her staff)

Sophia: (puts the staff away from Arthur) Don't touch that! 😡 (composes herself and smiles sweetly) Sorry, it's a family heirloom.😊

Echanted Arthur: It's beautiful, just like you (cradles her face tenderly with one hand)

Sophia: (about to kiss him)

Merlin: (yells, pointing somewhere) Bandits!

Echanted Arthur: (pulls away from Sophia and looks around) Where?!

An arrow flies towards Sophia but she deflects the arrow subtly with her staff.

Merlin: (thinking) Damn, it was so close.

Echanted Arthur: (runs to Sophia) My love! Are you alright? (holds her hands)

Sophia: (nods, trembling) I was so scared.🥺

Echanted Arthur: (turning to the bandid, who is hidind behind a tree in the distance, furious) YOU! 😡

Lancelot: (disguised as a bandid, bow in hand, cause Merlin asked him to) Fuck (runs away).

Echanted Arthur: Come back here! (runs after him)

Merlin: (turns to Sophia as soon as Arthur is out of sight, serious) You're nothing without your staff, aren't you?

Sophia: What?

Merlin: Don't play dumb with me.

Sophia: (smiles sweetly) Why would I? You're playing dumb enough for the both of us.

Merlin: I know what you are.

Sophia: I also know what you are, Emrys.

Merlin: (surprised).. How... How did you..?

Sophia: If I can recognise The Once and The Future King, don't you think I can recognise his protector? We've been watching you, we saw the kind of relationship you have, so I knew I had to use a stronger spell.

Merlin: Then you know you shouldn't mess with me. (aproaches her threatenly) Stay away from my Arthur.

Sophia: Jealousy doesn't look good on you, darling. I don't blame you though. He's such a gentleman... and a good kisser too.

Merlin: (raises his hand furious, eyes glowing)

Sophia: (raises her staff) Careful.

Echanted Arthur: (comes back) The bastard escaped, such a-What's going on? (looks at Merlin and Sophia's postures, confused)

Merlin: Ah... we are... killing mosquitoes!😅 (claps the hand that is raised with the other) They are everywhere! (keeps claping around)

Sophia: Yeah! (moves her staff around as if fighting said imaginary mosquitoes)

Echanted Arthur: (laughs fondly) You shouldn't worry about that, my love. Let Merlin handle it. (smiles brightly at the both of them) I'm glad you're getting along now.

Merlin: (forcing a smile) Oh, you have no idea. (slaps Arthur in the face)

Echanted Arthur: Ow!

Merlin: I killed it! 😊

Time skip. When Arthur requested an audience with the king.

Echanted Arthur: I have requested this audience, Father, to discuss a matter of great importance. It cannot have escaped your attention that I and Lady Sophia Tirmawr have growned very close.

Uther: Is that so?

Echanted Arthur: We're in love, which is why I have come before you today to ask your permission to marry.

Uther: (cracks out laughing)

Echanted Arthur: (serious face)

Morgana: (looking, worried)

Merlin: (scheming how to stop Arthur and Sophia from running away together)

Uther: (stops laughing when he sees Arthur's seriousness, surprised) Oh, you're serious.

Echanted Arthur: That's right, father. We are getting married.

Uther: This… this is great! 😃

Merlin: What? 😨

Morgana: What? 😱

Sophia: (her smile fades) What? 😧

Echanted Arthur: (just as surprised, but very happy) Really? 😃

Uther: Of course! I'm delighted you've made such an excellent match, Arthur.

Merlin: (thinking in distraught, his heart squeezing) No... No! This can't be! They can't get married! Arthur can't... This didn't happen in my other life! What the hell is Uther thinking!

Morgana: (to Uther, concerned) My lord, don't you think it's very hasty that they want to get married after knowing each other for only two days?

Uther: When love calls that's how it is. And how could he not fall in love with her? She is beautiful, charming, very cultured and from a good family.

Morgana: And from a kingdom that was invaded by raiders!

Uther: Exactly, She's been through a lot and yet she remains strong. I admire that in a woman. And she's still a lady from nobel blood. If Lord Aelfric agrees, of course, I don't see why they couldn't get married.

Aulfric: (very confused at the turn of events too) Uh... I guess, I don't have a problem either, Your Majesty.

Echanted Arthur: (holding Sophia's hands, ecstatic with love) Oh, you see, dear? They accept our love! 🥰

Sophia: (barely hiding her dismay) Oh, how explendid! 😅

Merlin: (realises, thinking) Wait... She can't run away with Arthur now! (smiles to himself triumphantly, though he's still sad) Oh, well. At least I still have time. She won't be able to kill Arthur if they can't leave. That's... that's good.

Morgana: (realises that too) My lord, I'm very worried about the bandits that attacked Lord Aulfric and Lady Sophia. They attacked twice, it seems pretty personal. What if they attack during the engagement party or the wedding itself?

Uther: That can be arranged. I'll reinforce the security so no stranger enters.

Morgana: (turns to lady Sophia with a smile) And it will be in your best interest to not go outside the castle at all, Lady Sophia. For your own safety, of course.

Sophia: (glares at Morgana)

Echanted Arthur: (with passion) I won't let anything happen to her! I'll protect her with my life!

Merlin: (rolls his eyes)

Uther: (very pleased) All is settled then. You'll be married by the end of the week.

Time skip. Morgana encounters Merlin in a hallway.

Morgana: So, what's the plan?

Merlin: (confused) What?

Morgana: To stop the wedding! What's the plan?

Merlin: I'm no going to stop the wedding.

Morgana: WHAT?!

Merlin: I mean, if I can expose Sophia and her father before the wedding, sure. But I highly doubt I can. For now, the only thing I can do is make sure they don't leave the castle.

Morgana: (fiercely) WE, Merlin, WE are together in this and WE are going to stop them.

Merlin: Right, we. (smiles, thinking) It's good to have an ally for once. (laughs a little and says) Only Arthur would be stupid enough to marry his potential murderer, honestly. (gets sad again)

Morgana: (comforting) Merlin, you must know Arthur feelings towards Sophia are fake, right? I don't know what she's doing to him, but it's not love. He only has eyes for-

Merlin: (explodes) I don't care if Arthur is in love or not! I don't care if he gets married or not! He could marry a troll for all I care. I just don't want him to die!

Morgana: Alright, alright! I get it. You don't care.

Merlin: (sighs) Sorry, I'm a bit stressed out it's all.

Morgana: How are you planning to expose them then?

Merlin: I think the staffs they always carry with them are magical. If we can get a hold of one of them-

Morgana: We can bring it to the king and prove they are impostors! 😃

Merlin: Yes, that's exactly what I was going to say. (thinking) And not that we can kill them with their own weapon as soon as they are defenssless. Sometimes I forget you're too nice now to think something like that.

Morgana: And since they'll be acussed of sorcery, Uther will kill them himself for messing with Arthur's mind! 😡

Merlin: (thinking) Or maybe not...

Time skip. The engagement party.

Merlin: (thinking, while watching from afar Arthur and Sophia eating at the table, smiling and laughing together) It's fake, it's fake. For gods' sake, Merlin! You've seen him getting married once! At least this time it's fake, you shouldn't be so upset.

Morgana: (whispers to him as Merlin serves her drink) Did you notice? (points at Arthur's and Sophia's direction subtly)

Merlin: (whispers back) Ahm... They seem... happy?

Morgana: No! The staff, Merlin. She's not carring her staff!

Merlin: (looks at Sophia again) You're right! She must have left it in her chambers.

Morgana: I'll go get the staff! (starts standing up)

Merlin: (stops her) No, it would be weird if the King's ward leave in the middle of this important event.

Morgana: Can you do it?

Merlin: (shakes his head) She already suspects me, if she sees me leave she'll know something it's up. (thinking) And I can't leave Arthur alone with her.

Gwen: I'll do it.

Morgana: ...

Merlin: ...

Morgana: Gwen, how long have you been there?

Gwen: Long enough. So, the staff?

Morgana: (points Aulfric, who is carring his staff) It's identical to that one. You have to enter her chambers, get it and bring it to Gaius to analyse it.

Gwen: Got it. (leaves)

Merlin: (thinking) How odd. Why did Aulfric bring his staff, but Sophia didn't? (gets closer to Sophia and Arthur carefully) I can't do anything while her father is close. I need to get her alone... Oh, I know! (drops the drink he's carring on her 'by accident')

Echanted Arthur: (calls him out, standing up) Merlin!

Sophia: (Furious, stands up) You gigantic fool! 😡

Merlin: I'm so sorry my lady, let me fix it. (tries to clean her dress)

Sophia: Don't you dare touch me! You did this on purpose!

Echanted Arthur: Excuse my poor excuse of a servant, my love. He's too clumsy for his own good, but I'm sure he didn't mean for this to happen.

Sophia: You're going to defend him? I'm your fiancee!

Echanted Arthur: I'm not defending him, I'm just-

Uther: (aproaches, almost shouting) What is happening here?!

Sophia: (Pointing at Merlin) He dropped the drink on me on purpose!

Echanted Arthur: I'm sure it was and accident. (holds Sophia's hands) My love, you look beautiful either way.

Uther: I apologise for this impertinence, lady Sophia. You may go change.

Sophia: Thank you, Your Majesty. (bows and leaves)

Uther: (turns to Merlin in anger) And you will not come back to this party, understood?

Merlin: (knowing perfectly this will happen, lowers his head in a shame he doesn't feel) Yes, sire. (bows and leaves)

Echanted Arthur: (looking silently where his fiancee and his servant left, feeling uneasy but not knowing for which of them)

Time skip. Sophia walking to her chambers enraged while Merlin follows her from behind.

Merlin: Please, my lady. I really didn't mean to-

Sophia: (turns to Merlin) Stop following me! 😡

Gwen: (gets outside the room with the staff)

Merlin: (grabs Sophia's hand so she doesn't turn and kneels, begging) I'll give you half my salary! No, all of it! But please forgive my mistake!

Sophia: (very confused and irritated) You don't have to keep pretending with me. What on earth are you doing?

Gwen: (leaves as quietly as she can)

Merlin: (drops the act as soon as Gwen is out of sight and turns serious) There's no guards at your door rooms.

Sophia: What?

Merlin: (lets go of her and stands up) You left your staff unprotected in your room and went to the party completely defenseless... or that's what you wanted me to believe so I would let my guard down. (sighs) Where is it?

Sophia: What?

Merlin: The real staff, where is it?

Sophia: (smiles and takes out a necklace she had hided in her dress neckline) Nothing gets pass you, right, Emrys?

Merlin: (recognises the gem in the necklace) Oh, so you can wear it as necklace too. How practical. Are you going to kill me now that there's nobody around?

Sophia: I don't need to kill you. You hold no power here. You're nothing but a servant.

Merlin: I hold more power than you can think of.

Sophia: And yet you can't use it. Not if you don't want to be discover. (pouts) Poor little thing. It must suck to be you.

Merlin: (laughs) You are trying to provoke me and it won't work. I've been called all the insults you can imagine my entire life and nobody has ever broke me. Besides, you're the one who's losing here. Your plan failed. You're the prince's fiancee now. You can't leave the castle and you can't do magic cause everyone's eyes are on you too, how sad. (looks her up and down) You definitely need to change, that stain is starting to look disgusting. (bows mockingly) My lady. (turns around and starts leaving)

Sophia: (raises her voice as he leaves) Oh, I'm not in a hurry, once married to Arthur and as a princess, I'll have aaall the liberty I need.

Merlin: (ignores her and it's about to turn a corner)

Sophia: (raises her voice more) And who says I can have my fun meanwhile? Especially at my honeymoon!

Merlin: (stops and turns around, a hard expression on his face) What?

Sophia: (aproaches with a fake sweet smile on her face) Oh, you know, I've always been interested in exploring the pleasures of the flesh and now I have the perfect toy for it.

Merlin: (furious) A toy?! Arthur is not your experiment to have fun with!

Sophia: I have every right to it. I'm going to be his wife after all. Something you'll never be.

Merlin: (threatens) If you dare to touch him- 😡

Sophia: You're going to do what?! 😡

Meanwhile, at the engagement party.

Echanted Arthur: (to Morgana) Something's wrong. Sophia should be here by now.

Morgana: We women take our time getting dress. I'm sure it's nothing.

Gwen: (to Morgana, whispers) Morgana, Gaius couldn't find anything weird in the staff.

Morgana: (whispers back) What? But that's impossible. Merlin- (she crosses eyes with Aulfric, who is smirking at her) Oh, no...

Gwen: What?

Morgana: I think they set us a trap.

Echanted Arthur: What are you talking about?

Suddenly two guards enter.

Guard 1: (to Uther) Sire! There are intruders attacking Lady Sophia in her room.

Uther and Echanted Arthur: What?!

Guard 2: The doors are blocked, other guards are trying to break them as we speak.

Echanted Arthur: (worried) Sophia! (leaves running)

Uther: (to the guards) You two, put everyone to safety. (leaves too)

Morgana: (tries to follow them)

Guard 1: (stops her) My lady, you can't go. We have to put you to safety.

Morgana: Try to stop me. (passes him and leaves)

Arthur, Uther, Aulfric and Morgana arrive at Sophia's doors. There are noises of struggling, things crashing and colliding and screaming, while the guards try to break in.

Echanted Arthur: Sophia! (draws her sword)

Uther: (draws his sword too and orders the guards) Now!

Guards: (open the doors)

Everything in the room is a mess, like a tornado passed there.

Uther: (in shocking disbelief) What the-

Echanted Arthur: (utterly baffled) Merlin?

Merlin and Sophia: (fighting like cats rolling on the floor)

Sophia: (puts herself on top of Merlin, screaming) I'll steal Arthur from you! (Slaps Merlin in the face)

Merlin: (puts himself on top of Sophia, screaming) Arthur is not something to steal! (Slaps her too)

Sophia: (spits him in the face and sits) Freak bastard! (punches him)

Merlin: Nasty whore! (Pulls her hair and she cries)

Echanted Arthur:...

Uther:...

Morgana: ...

Aulfric: ...

The Guards: ...

Uther: What are you waiting for? Seize him!

The Guards: Yes, sire. (pull Merlin apart from Sophia and restrain him)

Merlin: (his nose bleeding, nail scratches across his face and neck, neckerchief about to fall, but still struggling hard against the guards holding him, furious beyond reason) Let go of me! I'll kill her, I swear I'll kill her!

Sophia: (Her hair a mess, a split bleeding lip, dress all teared up, throws herself at Merlin still wanting to fight, beyond furious too) You insolent poor excuse of a man!

Morgana: (quickly holds her from behind and pulls her apart from Merlin) Stop you two!

Sophia: Let go of me! (To Merlin, yelling) How dare you hit a Lady, you street trash! 😡

Merlin: (yelling too) I see no Lady, liar snake!😡

Sophia: (tries to free herself, moving forward) Cheap slut!

Merlin: (tries to free himself, moving forward too) Fake bitch!

Uther: (shouts) ENOUGH! 😤 What on earth is the meaning of this?!

Sophia: Your Majesty, (points at Merlin) this scumbag humiliated me in the worst way possible just because I wanted to reclaim what it's mine.

Merlin: Stop talking about him like he's property! 😡

Uther: Silence! 😡

Sophia: For my honor, I demand this servant to be punished inmediatly!

Uther: (turns to Arthur) You heard, Arthur?

Echanted Arthur: (confused) Yes, I'm here, listening.

Uther: So? What are you going to do?

Echanted Arthur: Me?

Uther: It's your servant after all. What punishment are you going to give him?

Echanted Arthur: Oh, right. (Goes to Merlin) Merlin, you will apologise to Lady Sophia-

Merlin: I rather die.

Echanted Arthur: (more sternly) You WILL apologise and you will be put in the stocks for an entire day, so you'll learn the consecuences of your actions! Do you understand?

Uther: ...

Uther: That's it? He humiliated your fiancee! And by extention he insulted the crown! And you're only going to put him in the stocks for a day?

Echanted Arthur: Right, this deserves a more severe punishment. Merlin, 3 days in the stocks... and no salary for you for three months!

Uther: (in disbelief) No salary?! Are you still planning to keep him as your servant after what he's done?

Sophia: (with tears in her eyes, to Arthur) So this is how our marrige is going to be? Always second to a servant?

Echanted Arthur: No, my love, that’s not-

Sophia: No! I won't tolerate one more humilation! (Finally frees herself from Morgana) This wedding is OVER (leaves enraged)

Echanted Arthur: Sophia! Wait! (Makes a gesture to go after her, but stops and turns to Merlin, a conflicted expresssion on his face) Merlin...

Merlin: (urges him, whispering) Don't go after her.

Echanted Arthur: (frowns, still conflicted) You...

Uther: Arthur, your fiancee is leaving!

Echanted Arthur: (snaps out of his conflict, turning to the door) Sophia! My love! Come back! (Runs after her)

Uther: (turns to Merlin, furious) And you! I'll decide what to do with you later. (To guards) Arrest him.

Guards: Yes, sire (start leaving with Merlin)

Merlin: Wait! Sire! You don't understand! They want to kill Arthur! Sire! Sire! (Struggles but the guards take him away)

Aulfric: (To Uther) I'll try to talk to my daughter. Make her reconsider, but after this... I don't promsise anything, your Majesty.

Uther: (sighs) I completely understand, Lord Aulfric. Whatever she decides, I'll make sure to compensate you both for this outrage.

Aulfric: (bows and leaves)

Uther: (To Morgana, tired) I'll announce to the guests the threat has been handle. (Leaves)

Gwen: (arrives running with Lancelot and they stop infront of Morgana, out of breath) I brought help!

Lancelot: My lady, (bows) I've heard there were intruders in the castle.

Morgana: ...

Lancelot: My lady?

Gwen: Uh... Did we miss something?

Morgana: Oh, you have no idea.

...

Merlin and Sophia:

Someone would think since they are from the future they would handle things better xD. Oh, well...

Episodes where Arthur got enchanted ✅️ (Well kind of, part 2 of this is still missing and there's another one when he got echanted too)

How our favourite warlock got out of this situation? Find out in the next episode of "Merlin: the Prince's favourite"

[xlatrina]

Friends to Lovers HCs w/Homicipher x GN!Reader

$$$   $$$   $$$

Tags: Platonic + Romantic HCs, Friends to Lovers trope for basically every LI, Likely OOC for some LIs*, Mini Scenarios (so HCs are kinda plot-driven), *Multi-Part Series, entirely SFW

Also, changing tenses in some cases + not proofread again... sorry!

*Some of the LIs are likely written OOC (Out Of Character) mainly due to a lack of substantial in-game appearances (at least in my opinion!). 

*Split into multiple parts because I’ve come to realize that these HCs are muuucccchhh too long 😅 BUT!! I’m too lazy to shorten them sooo… YEAH lol

Part I (Big 🙆‍♂️)

Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓)

Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)

Mr. Big (AKA Mr. Huge Face)

Big mf tease.

Loves to mess with you. Finds it funny to watch you run around in circles as he keeps rotating the room.

The exit’s this way! …Oop! Nope. The exit’s that way! No, no, over there!

Soon, you find yourself whipping your head back and forth, totally lost.

“Wait, which way did I come from again? I came from that way, right?” You’ll ask yourself.

Mr. Big will just chuckle at you and reach for your little frame (well, relative to his own frame).

Truth be told, Mr. Big gets a kick out of seeing you jump in surprise and scream every time you see him. You’d think you’d get used to his shenanigans, but… well, evidently not!

If this big bully playful giant becomes more interested in you, you may find yourself in a super uncomfortable position, to be honest.

Like, he may very well take “playing God” here to a whole ‘nother level. So, like, he’ll probably just straight up get rid of the exits and entrances altogether.

At least for a little while… so he can observe you.

His favorite little plaything❣️

This sensation might be rather odd and unfamiliar to Mr. Big.

After all, he’s something that’s existed in this other world for… well, forever, really.

He’s never felt this way before… or has he?

If he has, it’s been entirely too long.

It’s just cute, you know? Watching this adorable little thing dart back and forth across the room.

There are times you give up on running, though, and you simply accept your fate.

Mr. Big takes that opportunity to scoop you into his palm.

He’ll try to talk to you.

“Why you no run?” He may ask. Or, maybe he’ll ask something like, “You no move. Not ok? Not alive?”

… Is he teasing you or is he seriously asking if you’re still alive?

You’ll squirm a little in his grasp, and he’ll grin and cackle like a witch.

Ah, so his favorite specimen is still kicking it after all!

At some point, you become his Barbie.

He frequently changes the room you’re in with a flair of style that you’ve never seen him do before.

From a chic studio apartment to a modern family home with a stunning living room to a burgundy brick loft and more…

Where the hell did he get all this inspiration from??

Probably those discarded magazines that fall in after the earthquakes...

Wherever he gets these ideas from, it appears obvious to you that this served as a means of softening you up for your lowkey forced newfound home in Mr. Big’s dollhouse.

He provides you with the basics for life, at least.

Shelter, clothing, soap, water, food…

What do you mean you won’t eat undeterminable meat??

“You no like?”

“...”

“How interesting,” Mr. Big’ll say.

He’s smiling… but his smile doesn’t touch his eyes.

He’s pissed.

As a means of surviving a little longer, you decide to humor Mr. Big by pretending to eat the meat. It’s difficult to pull off, but you’ve managed to fake eating for a while.

He’s trying to figure out why you’re body constantly growls, though…

“Body make sound? Why? You ok? Need more food?” He’ll ask.

As much as you wanna deny it, it’s becoming painfully obvious that you’re fucking starving.

But you really don’t wanna eat whatever mystery meat Mr. Big keeps trying to serve…

Well, you always have the option to give a limb of some kind to Mr. Gap in exchange for recognizable food. Or maybe information or other odd things you could request.

As much as the price hurts, one thing you could never say is Mr. Gap doesn’t deliver every time!!

As for Mr. Big, well…

It’s kinda nice realizing how doting he can be, actually.

Since he’s always watching you from a bird’s eye view, there really isn’t anything Mr. Big doesn’t know about you.

He’s gotten really good at guessing your needs —often well before even you realize you’re desiring something!

He can tell when the room gets too hot or cold for you, and he’ll usually rearrange the room for better air circulation.

He’ll build the room into a puzzle of some kind so you don’t get bored!

In those times, he can tell when a room’s puzzle is becoming too difficult for you to solve, and so sometimes, when he wants to be nice, he’ll slowly tuck a large finger into the area. From there, he’ll push things around accordingly until you figure out how to solve it on your own.

As a partner of some kind, Mr. Big is super attentive. Again, nothing really gets past him.

You might think Mr. Big doesn’t recognize the way you crawl over to an old bookcase and peer beneath it for minutes at a time...

You might think he doesn’t hear the faint whispering after a moment of quiet...

Hell —you might even think he doesn’t recognize the way you “eat” the food he’s provided you in a specific corner near a hole in the wall. Like he can’t recognize how much thinner you’ve gotten over the last few weeks…

But he does. 

He sees you, he perceives you.

And he doesn’t plan to stop 👩‍❤️‍👨.

You’re his little toy!! 🧸

He’s Mattel, and you’re Barbie.

That’s how things are between you two now.

Forever.

… But hey, it’s not all bad!

Soon, you’ll open up to him.

Especially when he begins finding ways to limit the amount of holes or dark pits around the area.

I mean… he’s not necessarily that bad, right?

He’s attentive, doting (in his own way), providing, and —so long as you remain in his territory —you’ll never have to worry about facing the potential dangers of the Apartments!

Because the only real danger that could really harm you here is him…

You’ll soon find yourself talking to Mr. Big on your own accord.

“Why you big? Where is place? Who you?”

“My body not small. Is normal. Where is place? Me not know,” And he’ll chuckle —loud, deep, and rumbly. Then, he’ll finally answer with, “Who me? …Me not say!”

Ugh, fucking asshole!

[Part I (Mr. Big 🙆‍♂️) | Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓, First Half/Second Half), Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)]

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.

[braxlrose]

maybe hcs about Bill's childhood and a bit of Tom's (twins in general)? I wonder what they liked to play and what damage and chaos they caused (☠️) it can also be somehow connected with the reader who is their friend and partner in crime! in the devilish era sense (if u can its would be nice if reader was Bills love interest/ i sm love childhood friends to lovers trope☠️😭) i love ur hcs and fics!!! lmao all those fights with bill would be so much fun😭 also the guy would definitely make a fake wedding with the reader..i know that🤷🏻‍♀️ besides the very concept of living with horny boys growing up lol.. Dayum ☠️ (srry 4bad engilsh)

↑wtf why Bill look so tall.. anyways they all look soo CUTE 🫡 baby GUS oh my ????🤭 and tom LMAOO 😭

a/n: they were adorable as children and I love this idea!! I haven't read Career Suicide yet, so some of these may be inaccurate, but again most are just headcanons that I don't have much to back up on besides their personalities

devilish headcanons

1996-2000

• you became friends with Bill and Tom when you were seven years old and bill had the biggest crush on you. he thought you were so cool and was even more happy when he found out you played guitar so he asked you to join Black Question Mark. you obviously said yes and you had so much fun rehearsing and hanging out with them

• one day at school bill asked you what your favorite cookie was and he practically begged his mom to help him bake those cookies for you. when he brought them in the next day he was so happy when you got excited for them.

• as you guys got a little bit older, you and tom would protect bill from bullies even if you got bullied too. but before you guys knew about what they were doing to bill, you would always clean up his cuts and kiss his bruises. after that, you would always walk with him, holding onto his hand tightly and try not to pay any attention to them.

• bill would pick flowers for you on valentines day because him and tom would pick them for his mom, and now that you were around, he'd get you some too

• when tom and bill looked more alike, you'd help them switch places in class and then act all surprised and be like "What do you mean? That's tom, Frau Schiller."

• they were little menaces, so when you were brought into the mix, they teachers all hated you. but they couldn't actually prove you were doing anything, which made it 10x more fun

• you and tom would always laugh about getting better grades in singing classes than bill and bill would just sit there like "🙄".

• you and bill had skipped class together (its like 4th grade, yall are like doing 4x8 idk why yall so lazy 🙄, but anyways), you guys did Stein, Schere, Papier (rock, paper, scissors) and Tom lost so he had to stay in class and pretend to be bill 💀. you and Bill were just walking around the halls when bill got the brilliant idea to pull the fire alarm. you two almost got caught but you were quick enough to run outside and get in line with the rest of your class.

• you and their mom are like best friends so you bake recipes with her all the time. like Puddingbrezel, Apfelstrudel, Apfelkuchen, Käsekuchen, Pfefferneusse, etc.

• you and tom tagged a couple buildings with spray paint

• you, tom and bill have sleepovers all the time and you guys would make a pillow fort and watch tons of movies.

• bills a very cuddly person, so he'd always end up wrapping his arms around you after you guys fell asleep in the fort

• you guys went CD shopping all the time and get tons of cds for your collection

• you would take nail polish from your moms collection and help bill paint his nails

• you moved to Magdeburg just around the time Bill and Tom's dad moved out. Bill wasn't as upset as tom was, but you still comforted the both of them. if your parents were divorced to, you'd also be able to empathize with them

• Bill and Tome step dad would invite you to go fishing with them on a boat on the lake whenever they went. you were basically apart of the family because you hung around so much so he didn't want to leave you out

• you and bill would play with his mom's makeup all the time and give eachother makeovers

• you, tom and bill once got caught trying to sneak a beer can out of the fridge and you guys all had to sit in time out. honestly, that just helped you guys be more sneaky about getting it

• if you have long hair, bill begs his mom to teach him how to braid hair so he can braid yours. he did this in the first place because you laughed at tom for not knowing how to braid hair and you were all like "you know how to braid hair, right bill?" and he was just like "😃😄😃 yeah."

• you three all used to have bonfires in the backyard. you guys would throw in paper and wood and all that shit and then go steal a lighter from the house. then you'd all grab some marshmallows and roast them

• when you guys were eleven years old, you walked in on him jerking off and you had literally no idea what he was doing at first so you just opened the door and stood there like "wtf 😀"

• you stole some cigarettes from your dad and you, tom and bill all smoked them outside of school for the first time. you were all coughing your asses off because you guys have never smoked before

• you three would all go to weddings together and play music for them.

• you and bill would play dress up all the time and you'd scream at anybody who said something to him about wearing a dress

• at nine years old, you and bill had a wedding and after that, he would always call you his wife and he was your husband. like if a teacher didn't partner you two up together he'd be like "but she's my wife!"

• his mom and your mom became friends too, since you guys spent so much time together and they'd be like "if those two don't get married one day, I'm losing faith in all love."

2000-2004

• you were up on stage, playing on the guitar with Tom and Bill on the night when Georg and Gustav came to see you guys. you were a bit hesitant at first, since you were used to only bill and tom, but you guys needed a bassist and drummer, so you agreed.

• after that, you guys all became a friend group pretty quick. even though at first the age difference was weird, you guys got past that and kind of forgot about it

• you five would go to the corner store all the time and would sneak candy in your clothes. even if you had enough money 💀

• movie nights 24/7, and you guys had to watch labyrinth. it was a must and bill would force you guys to watch it

• you and bill were already super close, but the older you got the more close you got and the more your relationship progressed.

• you had to be careful when walking around the house at first because you didn't know if you'd be fine, or you'd turn the corner and one of the four boys would be sitting there jerking off

• the more time passed, the more you got used to it and it got to a point where you'd just walk into a room looking for something and if one of them was jerking off you'd just walk right past them.

• they're literally saying the dirtiest, nastiest jokes all the time and you'll just be sitting there like "🙂 wtf man"

• they're a bunch of horny, pre-teen/teenage boys so hanging out with them can be a handful but they always treated you like one of the guys and never made you feel any different.

• even bill, even though you were his gf you were still his bestfriend so you guys would roughhouse and do dumb shit together and all that kind of stuff

• you sat and listened to bill all day while he practiced singing It's Raining Men for Star Search and always helped him out with stuff

• you went to Star Search with Bill, his mutter and his Oma and was so excited to see him on stage. when he came out you were smiling and cheering and clapping your hands as loud as you can. his singing voice is amazing

• you held him for a long time after he got second place. he was really sad and bawling his eyes out because he promised you and his Oma that he'd win for you guys

• you made sure he knew it was okay, and that second place is still amazing. but he still moped for days once you guys got home.

• you and gustav would make food together too. like cookies and milkshakes. it was tons of fun baking with him

• when you first got your period, the boys were super confused because you were holding your hand in front of your intestines (and yes its actually where your intestines are, your stomach is way higher than you think 😨 but back to this) they didn't have any idea what was going on until Georg was like "she probably got her period."

• the rest of them all looked back at him like "wtf is that?" and georg was like "it's where girls bleed out of their vaginas." after that, tom and bill thought you were dying or something because georg did a terrible job explaining what a period was 💀

• once their mom got home and say they were freaking out and she asked what was wrong and they were like "Georg says Y/n is bleeding out her vagina! She's dying!" and their mom just started laughing her ass off and grabbed you a heating pad.

• tom and bill were mad at their mom for a bit before she explained what was actually happening because they thought she was just gonna let you die. but then she explained it happens to all women and its just shedding the lining of a woman's uterus. and that you were laying on the couch like that because periods cause awful cramps that can hurt as much as heart attacks.

• they were extremely nice to you after that

• bill went to the store and bought you some chocolate and then rubbed your back for you. his mom was just standing in the doorway of the living room as you two sat on the floor watching a TV show with a bunch of pillows and blankets as bill rubbed your shoulders.

• you guys got high on weed all the time and you'd be laughing your asses off while bill would just be sitting around, super fucking paranoid about everything

• you and tom were little assholes in school, especially in science class💀 you two would fuck things up on purpose when doing experiments and your teacher hated you guys so much

• you, bill and tom once started a fire at school and you all got grounded for 2 weeks and suspended from school for 3 days

• you and bill would get matching clothes together

• when tom had sex for the first time at 13, he told all of you right away and you just started laughing 💀 he was super offended and was like "uhmm..wtf bro?!" and you were like "I just feel bad for the girl who had to sleep with a guy with a 3 inch dick who still has voice cracks." and his jaw dropped and went on a rant about how his dick was huge and that he didn't have voice cracks. his voice cracked like 6 times during that rant btw.

I hope you enjoyed this!!

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl

[akoyaxs]

Tì'eylan Teaser ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff (no smut YET)

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”

You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.

You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.

Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.

“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”

“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”

Oh.

Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.

“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.

“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”

“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”

He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.

“I don’t just take care of myself on my own, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.

You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.

And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?

Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.

So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.

Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.

But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.

You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”

Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.

“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.

“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you?”

“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.

“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”

“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”

“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”

Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.

“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”

“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”

When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.

“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”

“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”

He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.

“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. “If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”

And he does, reluctantly.

All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.

But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

@hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)

[hotluncheddie]

an addition to this au with @scoops-aboy86 <3

condensed ver: office au, steve starts baking to try and impress eddie, it doesn’t work, because steve is too distracted by eddie to mention it’s his baking. but it’s okay because eddie is already impressed, and likes watching steve eat the random deserts more than trying them himself anyway. 

so i had to write what happened at the end of their first date <3 

wc: 3.6k | rated: E | tags: getting together, fluff, chubby steve, sweet gooey smut

ao3

˙✧ ° 🍮 ✧ .୧ 🥄

‘gonna just hit the bathroom and we can go, yeah?’ steve asks, standing and stretching his arms over his head until his shoulder pops. he feels pleasantly full and warm, comfortable after being in eddie’s space all evening. butterfly’s fluttering at eddie’s sweet determination to make steve feel looked after, friendly arguing over how to split the bill. (eddie putting more cash down but steve ensuring their waiter gets a nice tip.) 

steve freezes, forgetting that he’d popped the button on his kind of too small jeans like, an hour ago. he sucks in and forces the button back closed, pulling and smoothing his yellow sweater back down over himself. giving his little shelf of stomach a pat. 

he trails his eyes over their table; a couple beers each and steve’s vanilla drink, and around eight empty plates of appetisers and sides that eddie had ordered periodically thought the night. he’d said the food here was good and he was right, steve had tried all of it, finishing almost all of it. thinking he should take robin here so she can try the cheese fries. he enjoyed every bite. 

‘i feel like i should be more embarrassed, but that food was really good.’ steve says. 

‘nothin’ to be embarrassed about.’ eddie says ‘i ordered the food because i wanted you to try it, just glad you enjoyed it.’ he’s resting his head in his palm, looking up at steve with a lazy sort of adoration. 

‘yeah?’ steve asks. 

‘yeah.’ eddie smiles and stands and doesn’t touch steve but steps close, in his space, eyes roaming steve’s features, his face and hair and neck. catching on the peak of chest hair visible at his neckline. trailing over his chest and arms and stomach. eventually making it back to his eyes and steve knows his breathing has picked up. eddie’s eyes are hooded and dark. steve feels warmth through his bones. 

‘i’ll just. bathroom’ steve says, voice quiet and gravely. he clears his throat. forces himself to swallow.

eddie’s smiles wide, pointy. steve feels his own flushed face split into a grin, the butterflies doubling. he nods once and walks backwards towards the bathroom, keeping his eyes on eddie’s mouth for as long as possible. 

once he’s back, having checked and double checked his outfit in the mirror, because maybe he was a little embarrassed. eddie is slouched at the empty bar waiting for him. 

‘i wanna make a joke about like, the button, getting into your pants, be all smooth and suave or whatever.’ eddie says, a little bit of a whine to his voice as though he really really did want to be smooth. ‘but, i’ve got nothin.’ he sighs 

fuck it. ‘do you want to? get, in them, i mean?’ steve asks, running a hand through his hair, pretending it’s not shaking. 

eddie’s smiles wide, a little shocked, almost shy, and nods. steve bites his lip, the butterflies tripling. 

‘i’ll uh, just call us a cap? back to mine? steve asks, and eddie pulls a piece of wavy hair in front of his mouth. looking up at steve through his lashes. steve thinks he must have a guardian angel, sending this man to his office, letting him fill his eye-line. 

steve uses the bars pay phone. gripping the receiver tight and having to turn away when he catches eddie’s eye, afraid his voice will come out strange from smiling too wide. has to contain his excitement as he rattles off the bars address. he feels giddy and well fed and he’s not had a night like this in, well, ever. 

they stand apart from each other on the street outside the bar. steve by the curb, hands fisted in his jacket pocket. eddie leaning up against the bars brick wall, one foot up against it and he’s smoking. baring his neck to expel white tendrils up into the night sky, taking long slow drags so steve can see the veins on his hands, long fingers and big rings. steve can’t take his eyes off him. eddie smirks, like he caught him, like he knows. steve’s blood burns. 

finally through the doors of steve’s little suburban home eddie stands close while steve locks and checks the door. eddie takes off his boots and steve helps him hang his jacket on the coat hooks, followed by his own, something swirling in the back of him mind. a ‘how nice’, a ‘maybe’, a ‘please’ and a scared little question. what if this was all the time? what if you just stayed? 

steve puts his hands on eddie’s hips to brushes past, asking if he’d like a drink, getting himself a glass of water. eddie’s skin was so warm. 

eddie steps though the house, hands behind his back, looking delighted and mischievous, like steve’s place is something interesting, something to care about. steve hides behind his glass. 

eddie looks at the photos hung up around the walls. back facing steve, eddie says ‘it’s nice in here, cozy, like you.’ and steve can’t take it any longer. can’t take being apart from eddie any longer. 

‘come on.’ he pulls at eddie’s arm, gently leading him to the couch. standing in front of it steve manoeuvres eddie’s hand up so he can compare them, his are bigger, they always are. steve sees eddie’s adams apple bob, he smiles, holds eddie’s hand in both of his and kisses each of his knuckles in turn. his skin is warm, smells like salt and cigarettes. 

eddie tucks some of steve’s hair behind his ear to get his attention, hand gently cupping his jaw. ‘can i?’ he whispers, eyes so big and pretty, nervous and hungry. 

steve’s nods slightly, looking all over eddie’s face, trying to drink in the moment, never forget it. 

eddie’s lips quirk at the corners, like he’s exited, joyous, that he gets to kiss steve. 

steve’s meeting him before eddie even moves, pushing their lips together, something sweet, something honey filled and gooey. 

eddie switches angle, dives in deeper, it becomes wet and molten and creamy. steve’s hand in eddie’s hair, holding the back of his head, other hand still gripping eddie’s. mouths searching and sharing, fingers locked. 

eventually eddie breaks the kiss, they’re both panting, coming up for air. steve closes his eyes for a moment, leaning his forehead against eddie’s. he can’t remember the last time he kissed someone. he doesn’t think it’s ever felt this good. 

eddie moves slow, stepping back, sitting in the center of the couch. he pats his lap, tugging gently at their still joined hands. 

steve hesitates a moment but straddles eddie, settling down on top of him as best he can in his tight jeans. the denim pulling at his thicker thighs, biting into his stomach like it was at the bar. but eddie rests his head back agains the cushions, looks up at steve with stars in his eyes, ‘so pretty stevie.’ 

and steve can’t help but kiss him. 

eddie free hand moves to steve’s hip. something instinctive and embarrassed makes steve grab it, pausing it before it can splay over him fully. thinks about pushing him away, to hide, but then eddie pulls back slightly and steve sees the look in his eyes. the flash of sweet concern but also the foggy want and desire. deep, dark pupils eating up chocolate brown and all steve feels is want, wanted, whole. 

‘you okay?’ eddie whispers, stealing air from steve’s own mouth. 

‘yeah, yeah just um, been a while.’ steve admits feeling his cheeks flush. but eddie just smiles at him, in that sweet way he does all the time at work. he squeezes what he can of steves fingers, kind, reassuring. 

steve feels that want bloom and flower in his chest, warmth dripping through all of his cracks and crevices. 

he pushes eddie’s hand up under his sweater and eddie can definitely feel how his jeans waistband is digging in, creating a muffin top but steve doesn’t care. he kisses eddie and it’s feels good, slips his tongue into eddie mouth and it feels perfect. 

eddie opens his mouth wider, moaning, letting steve in. squeezes a handful of steve’s side and steve can’t help but grind down against him and whine. 

eddie grinds up, meeting him, their denim clad cocks both hard and straining. ‘it’s been a while for me too. so, i, it’s okay, if you wanna, ah, uh, if you wanna slow down.’ eddie says, in-between kisses. 

steve does, but he doesn’t. he thinks tonight so far has been perfect and he really wants to touch eddie. wants to let himself do it. ‘wanna touch you, wanna keep kissing you and i want you to stay, stay the night with me. is that, is that okay?’ steve asks, breathless and desperate, insides flayed open, honest. 

‘more than okay, that’s, ugh, fuck, sounds so perfect baby.’ eddie grits out, still squeezing steve’s side, head thrown back, pretty long neck on display. 

‘say that again’ steve breaths, their hips haven’t stopped moving. steve’s eyes close tight, his skin on fire. 

eddie moves the hand from steve’s hip to the side of his neck, pulling him down so they’re eye to eye, almost nose to nose. eddie sweeps his thumb over steve’s bottom lip, wiping the spit across his cheek. looks right in his eyes, right into his soul. ‘baby.’ he purrs. 

steve feels his pupils blow, wet tip soaking his boxers. ‘fuck’ he keens. he needs to feel him, needs to know if eddie’s wet too. 

steve pushes himself up using the back of the couch, going for smooth but he fumbles his footing slightly, starts giggling, flustered. but eddie just giggles too, sitting up and using their still joined hands to help stabilise. ‘c’mon pretty boy.’ steve says, giddy, and tugs eddie up once he’s found his footing, pulling him towards the stairs. swaying his hips a little more than normal as he climbs them. 

eddie sits on the edge of the bed, looking around like he did downstairs, face open and curious. steve thinks he’s beautiful. 

steve hesitates a second before undoing his fly and shimmying out of his jeans, kicking them aside. eddie let’s out the faintest little ‘oh’, almost wounded, and steve realised he’s looking at the indented red lines that have been left on his soft underbelly, where it’s been pushed up against his jeans waistband all evening. steve flushes and goes to cover himself but eddie takes his hands gently, pulling him forward so he’s standing between eddie’s thighs. eddie’s big dark eyes looking up at him before he dips forward and leaves the softest kiss over the indent right in the middle, where the button dug in the most. steve can’t look away, his breathing picking up slightly as he feels his gut churn with something he thinks could traverse all the way to his heart, could expand and grow into something like love. 

‘need to touch you eddie.’ steve pleads, voice higher than normal. 

‘yeah, yeah, course sweetheart.’ eddie’s voice is horse, affected, he lays a few more feathery kisses on steve’s stomach and the soft skin by his hip. ‘but take this off first for me, please baby.’ eddie released his soft grip on steve’s hands and slips his fingers just under the hem of steve’s sweater, rucking it up slightly higher on his belly and squeezing steve’s hips. the contact making steve close his eyes and shiver. 

‘you don’t like my sweater?’ steve jokes, hands on eddie’s shoulders to keep his knees from turning to jelly. 

‘it looks perfect on you. but steve, baby, i’ve been thinking about what you’ve got hiding under that button down for weeks, please don’t tease me any longer.’ and eddie sounds so desperate that steve believes him. 

‘i was worried i was being too obvious, but fuck, i just couldn’t take my eyes off you.’ eddie murmurs and steve feels eddies wet kiss just below his belly button, nuzzling the soft skin and hairs. then eddie sinks his face into steve’s belly for real, dips his tongue into steve’s belly button and swirls. steve moans, he didn’t even know that could feel so good, that it was so sensitive, but it does, and it is. 

steve pulls his sweater off, tossing it into the corner. hand moving back into eddie’s curls, pushing him in deeper, relishing in eddie’s muffled groan and the slick sounds of him sucking and biting. ‘you next eddie. your turn.’ steve tugs at eddie’s hair, pulling him away from his now glistening stomach. eddie’s mouth hangs open, he looks fucked out and glossy. 

‘fuck.’ eddie croaks taking in steve’s now naked chest, eyes roaming quickly and greedily over steve’s chest hair, pecks and arms. 

steve smiles, laughs a little. ‘you okay?’ he teases. but he’s happy, kind of awed. 

‘yeah.’ eddie breathes, spacey and adorable. then he seems to come back to himself a little, blinking and blushing slightly. steve can see it where the tips of his ears stick out of his hair. ‘sorry if, ah, that was too much wasn’t it?’ teeth worrying pretty pick lips.  

‘no no.’ steve laughs, earnest, because steve’s happy, feels divine. he pulls on eddie wrists, making him stand. ‘no worrying’ steve holds eddie’s face in his hands, soothes his thumbs over the soft skin below eddie’s eyes. ‘just, my turn now, kay?’ and steve kisses him, firm and deep. 

steve’s lets his hands roam, sliding down eddis arms and up his sides before returning to his hips, thumbs stoking and dipping where hip, meets jeans, meets boxers. he steps in closer so they’re chest to chest and squeezes eddies ass. and oh, how eddie opens up for him. tongue hot and wet, hips flush and grinding, holding steve’s shoulders like he’s scared to float away. 

steve slides his hands up eddie’s back, taking his shirt up with them. ‘off’ he says, their lips still connected. eddie steals one more peck before he steps back and steve gets to see all of his pale, tattooed chest for the first time. 

‘oh.’ he says, amazed. he knew eddie had some. but, patches of eddie are covered with art. some spooky intricate things, some old with bleeding edges and steve can’t help but touch. tracing their lines and watching as goose bumps travel down eddie’s arms, nipples hard and pretty pink. steve traces them, tweaks them, smiling when he hears eddie’s faint gasp. 

‘pretty.’ steve says. looking into eddie’s eyes. he wets his lips and lets his hand travel down, squeezing eddies cock through his jeans, relishing in the weight and warmth of it in his palm, through the denim. 

slowly, eddie’s brings both of steve’s hands to the fly of his jeans. eyes dark and hungry. steve takes his time, popping the button, pulling the zipper down tooth by tooth, knuckles giving steady pressure to eddie’s length. once it’s open eddie pulls them down, boxers going too. deft fingers tugging at steve’s boxers, pulling them off, tossing it all aside. until they’re standing in front of each other, both completely naked, cocks hard and flushed red, pre pearling at the heads. 

something about the feeling of air on his hard cock has steve pausing, sinking into his head a little. he really likes eddie, they’re doing this, it’s scary. he’s not, he hasn’t had feelings like this in a long time. it could really hurt, eddie could really hurt him, if it keeps going the way steve hopes. 

steve’s been still and silent too long. ‘um, fuck, sorry, it really has been a long time and i ah, i don’t usually do this on a first date and uhm...’ steve says, trailing off, sucking in a shaky breath. 

eddie steps forward and entwines his pinkie with steve’s finger. it’s such a comforting, tender gesture that something in steve melts. how lovely actually, that it’s been so long, but that he’s able to feel these things again. 

‘hey.’ eddie’s voice is soft. ‘no worrying.’ his thumb strokes against the back of steve’s hand. ‘and me neither. i’ve, honestly had an embarrassingly small number of first dates. but, this one’s been perfect, even if it ends here.’ and eddie looks so happy, so earnest. steve steps forward and kisses the corner of his mouth. 

eddie turns his head into it, capturing steve’s lips. coming together they groan as their lengths slide against each other. tongues entering mouths, spit slick and sloppy. 

‘you wanna lay down?’ steve asks, taking a tentative hand and squeezing their cocks together as one. 

eddie’s eyes close at the contact. ‘yeah. but, uh, i don’t think i’m gonna last long, sorry.’ he says, breathing deep through his nose. 

another squeeze and steve let’s go, pulling eddie onto the bed with him. ‘good. me neither.’ steve lays on his side facing eddie, mirroring each other. 

‘this okay?’ steve asks, taking them both in his palm again, collecting the pre from their tips and moving slow. 

‘yeah, yeah, fuck, just.’ and eddie cards one of his hands through steve’s hair, moving closer, holding him firmly at the base of his skill, eddie’s hand squeezes and steve shivers. ‘hold on just.’ eddie grunts, taking steves hand away from their cocks to lick and solid wet stipe along it, bast to tip. 

‘fuck’ steve pants, slide slick and smooth now. eddie gripping the back of his head still, other hand gravitating back to his hip. roaming that plush crease at his waist. 

steve speeds up, grips tighter. eddie’s pushing their foreheads together, panting, sharing breath. steve knows he can’t last long, with eddie hard and thick against him. 

‘fuck, fuck, stevie’ eddie whines, curing in on himself, pulling steve closer, hand moving to grab at steve’s peck, his shoulder, blunt nails against his neck. ‘baby, i’m close, i’m close.’ 

steve watches, enamoured, eddie’s eyes squeezed shut, mouth pretty pink and open. ‘me too, me too’ steve pants, doesn’t want to blink, speeds up his hand, twists their heads. 

eddie throws his leg over steve’s thigh, gripping a handful of his peck again, twisting the hairs at the back of his head and steve comes with a shout. eddie squeezing his chest and pulling his hair through his own orgasm, rocking against steve’s cock, steve’s hand. the pleasure pain rolls through steve, down his legs and arms, making his mind go fuzzy blank. 

panting, he nuzzled into eddie, nosing at his cheek. still moving his hand in a lazy grip. 

‘baby.’ eddie moans, sounding spent and sleepy and loose. 

steve doesn’t open his eyes, just kisses him. pushing his messy hand into eddie’s stomach, getting him to lay flat so steve can devour him. eddie letting him eat. 

eventually the kisses turn into steve breathing in eddie’s skin, head tucked into his neck. half asleep but sticky. 

he rolls off, holding his hand out in front of him, as if their combined cum isn’t also all over his chest. goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wipe himself down, coming back in with tissue and a damp towel for eddie. 

eddie has rolled into his side, eyes following steve coming over. his hair a mess of frizz around his head, face happy and sleepy and satiated. steve thinks he looks glorious. 

steve likes the feeling of the quiet, the focus and attention he can take to cleaning eddie off, hands roaming over pale skin. he leaves a kiss to eddie’s sternum once he’s done, the moment feels reverent and deep, something warm shifting through steve again, solidifying within him. 

sleep takes them quickly, a tangle of limbs and blankets, chased kisses and wondering fingertips. eddie sighing into steve’s embrace. 

steve wakes to the sound of the radio, something a little heavier than his usual morning station. both sides of the bed are still warm and everything still smells like eddie. steve shoves his face in his pillow to stifle his grin. wants to squeal, wants to kick his legs and throw the widows of his heart open wide. 

he makes a quick call to work, feigning sick and gets up to find sweats. 

eddie is in the kitchen, sitting at the counter and leafing through a book. he’s humming and swinging his legs, steve can’t help but stare. eddie’s hairs still a mess but he’s picked up his boxers and steve’s sweater from last night. the collar is pulled to one side and shows off  a peak of collarbone, the yellow complimenting his sleep flush cheeks. steve swallows, heat rushing through his belly, his jumper looks bigger on eddie, oversized and sweet. 

eddie’s finally looks up at him but he looks pointy again, mischievous and magical, even with the pillow crease on his cheek. steve comes closer, he has to kiss him. 

and eddie let’s him, humming sleepy and deep. but pulls away eventually, same face still on just now with kiss pink lips. ‘these cupcakes look like the ones from the office, and these cookies, and this cheesecake.’ eddie flicks to each one. ‘funny that, don’t you think? stevie baby.’  eddie says, pointing to a page in the book, leaning into steve’s space, eyes greedy and sparkling. 

oops, busted. steve blushes, takes a moment to figure out how to explain what was his frankly insane plan to get eddie to talk to him through baked goods. he scratches the back of his neck, mind blank. 

‘cant you make this?’ eddie asks, turning to the page for molten chocolate cakes and tapping it with long callused fingers. 

steve just looks at him, silly pretty thing. ‘for.. breakfast?’ steve asks and eddie just nods, grin getting a touch more feral, eyes on steve’s mouth, hand sliding up under steve’s t-shirt and squeezing. 

[dira333]

Love and friendship know no distance - Shino x Reader x Hinata (platonic)

Have been carrying this idea with me for a while. There's a whole lotta lore behind this, but I think I managed to not overwhelm the story. Plays out after the War.

tagging: @missalienqueen @snuggleboots @brusselsproutofdoom, @shadowwolf202101blog @neonrogueraven @respitable @remusbestboy

The truth is, you hadn’t meant to make Konoha an ally. Not really. 

Konoha is, after all, the village that brought up Orochimaru. Did nothing but turn their heads to his experiments, pretending he wasn’t slowly losing his mind and his morals.

Konoha’s failure brought destruction over your whole country yet they like to blame you for it, not the man who caused it all.

Well… they don’t exactly blame you. 

But if your father’s blood runs through your veins, there’s nothing you can do about the blame attached to it.

“I am the Daimyō of the Land of Sound,” you declare at the gate, its size another slap in the face. Oh, how mighty you are, Land of Fire. But you still need a gate to keep us out, still use a gate to keep your people in. 

And you suppose their doubts are not unfounded. You’re not wearing any fancy clothes, come bearing no treasures, unguarded to the untrained eye. 

But you won’t spare any fancy things on a country like this.

-

“We were not notified of your father’s death,” the Hokage explains, grey-haired and lazy-eyed. Kakashi of the Sharingan.

You wonder if he’s seen through you already; if the Sharingan is truly as mighty as they all say. Orochimaru, after all, died for it.

“So far only the Daimyō of the Land of Rivers has arrived. You are pretty early. I’d like to assist you in your protection, offer you one or two Shinobi.”

You want to deny it, before thinking better of it. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

“One would be enough.”

“Alright. Shikamaru, who do we have? And don’t forget, only the best of the best for a Daimyō.”

“Team 8 just came back in. Genma’s-”

“Team 8 would be perfect,” Lord Sixth turns back to you, “I assume you want to pick them yourself?”

“Affirmative.”

-

Shikamaru, just as lazy-eyed as the Hokage he’s supposed to be advising, has gathered a few more Shinobi it seems. Or maybe this is a test.

It’s not hard to figure out who belongs together, their familiarity hard to ignore.

There’s a blond girl who’s not afraid to slap the hands of a boy reaching for a snack. He looks sweet, circles on his cheeks indicating that he belongs to the Akimichi Clan. The pink-haired girl and the blond guy are standing too close for it to be accidental and though you can practically feel the Chakra coming off him in waves it’s clear that he cannot keep quiet for even a second.

A white dog takes up the space two people could occupy. Its eyes stare right back into yours and as if trying to give you a hint, it winks at you. Its owner is just as chatty as the blond guy, but the other two people belonging to his team - the connection is undeniable - are calmer, used to staying in the back.

Dark glasses reflect your own face. It’s hard to tell what this guy’s thinking, but you don’t dare to assume he’s underestimating you. If anything, he might be the first to have you figured out.

Behind him, half-hidden, lavender eyes peer back at you, sadness pooling in their milkiness. She reminds you of your mother though looking nothing like her and the pang of loneliness is strong enough to make you move.

“Yes?” Shikamaru turns. 

“The Hyuuga,” you call out, bones still shaking with emotion. Are they all like that? Or is it just her?

-

Hinata is a quiet presence at your side. 

She doesn’t push herself onto you, though you cannot forget that she’s there and her silence only makes you crave noise even more.

“What does your name mean?” You ask when she leads you down the roads to the place you’re supposed to stay.

“A place in the sun, My Lady.”

“Were you born in the summer?”

“December 27th, My Lady.”

Winter, you have to close your eyes at the thought, a shiver running through you, how fitting.

“Do you like the snow?” The question has slipped out of your mouth before you can stop it, a sensation scary and unfamiliar.

Her eyes light up for a second, the ghost of a smile passing over her face. 

“I love it.”

Loneliness claws at your heart so unexpectedly that you stumble. She’s at your side in a second and you barely manage to fight her off before she touches you.

She might have been warm to the touch. You wouldn’t have been able to take that.

-

You realize your error late at night.

To have only one Guard means that she cannot go home, get rest, or take a break.

Is it selfish though, that you want her to yourself a little while longer?

You’ve managed to get her to drop the formal title over Dinner and though you’re sticking to steamed rice and green tea she doesn’t mind conversing over the food that is offered.

“We are famous for our roasted chestnuts,” she explains. “At least that’s what Temari says.”

“Temari?” You take a sip of the tea, heart thundering at the possibility that it could be poisoned. Though Hinata’s shared quite a few cups with you and she’s fine.

“Shikamaru’s fiancée, she’s from Sunagakure.”

It’s only in the morning that you regret your decision.

Hinata’s passed out by the kitchen table, hair fanned out over the dark wood, her pale skin a stark contrast.

You cannot wake her without making known that she slacked on the job.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Konoha might not be your enemy, but it’s not your friend, not supposed to be for a long while.

After all that has passed, after all that you’ve been through, you cannot lose your mind to the first girl with sad eyes. 

But, your mind whispers back, defiant, I’ve always wanted a friend.

-

“If you feel bad for falling asleep,” you threaten her the moment she blinks herself awake, “I will throw you out.”

“I-” she stutters, red flushing her cheeks, “I…”

“I’d rather have your opinion on who else to appoint,” you tell her matter-of-factly, “than an apology. I don’t like people who talk all the time and don’t listen to the important stuff. Who do you want as your companion on this job?”

Her eyes flitter around, a milky-white that makes your heart ache for your mother, the power of her hands, the first snow of the year.

“Shino… I pick Shino.”

“Shino it will be.”

-x-

“My Lady,” Shino puts a cup of tea in front of you and steps back.

Across from you, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire is stuffing his face with spicy noodles. And he’s not the only one scarfing down the impressive feast Konoha has prepared for them.

You, however, are only served steamed white rice and green tea, both prepared by Hinata and served by Shino because these are the only ones you can - barely - trust.

“Sad to hear of your father’s passing,” the Daimyō of the Land of Iron declares, wiping his mouth. 

“I’m not.” 

Silence falls over the room. The Daimyō of the Land of Lightning is a little slow on the uptake, the noise of his chewing obnoxiously loud.

“How… how did he die, anyway?” Someone asks. You direct your eyes at them, watch them shrink under your gaze. It’s the Daimyō of the Land of Water.

“He was sentenced to death for his crimes.”

“Crimes?”

“What else would you call what he did?” Your brows lift in question. They swallow nervously, so you allow yourself to elaborate.

“Sold his land and his people to an egoistic maniac. Did nothing to stop the madness when it started, instead profited off it. Or do you condone human experiments?”

“No, of course not, no.”

“Who…” The Daimyō of the Land of Fire clears his throat awkwardly, “Who’s the Otokage now? If Orochimaru is gone. And he’s gone, I understand?”

“Oh, yes, he is gone. As the position of Otokage and Daimyō cannot be held by the same person, my Sensei, Hirota Hitoshi.”

“Never heard of him,” someone mutters in the back and though you don’t smile, you can’t help but think that that’s how it’s supposed to be.

“So, the Land of Sound is struggling, right?” The Daimyō of the Land of Fire asks directly. “What gives you the idea?”

“You’re here.”

“Touché.” You smile, though it’s more a blaring of your teeth, “We are but a small country, looking for means to invent us new. Maybe we’ll go back to what we used to be before. The Land of Rice Fields had a nice ring to it.”

“Hmm… How many Shinobi do you have?”

“Oh, not many.”

“You might think that,” the Daimyō of the Land of Fire is not as stupid as he looks, “But I’d like a concrete number.”

You hesitate only for a second before you name it, knowing that it will change the trajectory of all oncoming conversations.

Their gasps of surprise don’t feel as satisfying as you had thought.

“We-”

“We’d like to form an Alliance,” the Daimyō of the Land of Earth declares before anyone else can get more than a word in.

You rise from your pillow.

“I’ll let you think about it,” you exclaim without a smile, “I need to rest now. Shino?”

His arm links with his, an unnecessary show of assistance. It’s the first time he’s touched you too, and quite bold for the man you’ve gotten to know over the last days.

But maybe he sensed something you’d blocked out, because your legs don’t want to work like they used to, your steps growing slower and slower as soon as the door closes behind you.

“Have I been poisoned?” You ask, the question slipping from your mouth without your intention, yet again.

“Not to my knowledge. I’d say you’re malnourished. You’ve eaten nothing but steamed rice for the last days, correct?”

“I’ve done it before,” you bite through your teeth, pushing yourself up. His arm stays linked with yours.

“I can take you to your place without anyone seeing,” Shino offers and though you can only see yourself reflected in his glaces, you accept. Hinata proposed him as your Guard, after all.

-

Hinata feeds you bone broth first, then Ramen, going so far as to gently pressure you into swallowing one spoonful after the other.

It doesn’t take long to find the source of your sudden weakness, an old injury opening. 

Shino’s the one who calls in a medic, the same pink-haired girl you’ve seen on your first day. She’s remarkably quiet, checking you over with the eyes of someone who knows what they’re doing.

“If you talk about this,” you tell her with an air of someone who never gets denied a thing, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

She huffs. “Don’t threaten me, I’m saving your life.”

“I’m saving my own life.”

Her eyes are green, spring-like in the worst way. 

After all, spring is the death of winter, the end of all things you hold dear.

“This is Konoha-” she starts, only to be interrupted. Shino’s hand lands heavy on her shoulder, Hinata’s warm fingers curl around yours.

“Can we just focus on making her well for now?” She asks, her voice managing to be warm and cold at the same time, like sun on a winters day.

-

“Can you tell me about your education?” You ask when Sakura’s gone and you’ve grown tired of lying on your back. “Do you have a school or do you learn from your families?”

“Both,” Hinata explains, lowering a warm, moist towel on your forehead. It smells like lavender. “What, uh… do you want to know?”

“You’re going to be late,” Shino cuts in from the kitchen, a shadow in a shadow. “Naruto’s picking you up in half an hour.”

She doesn’t say it but you can see that she’s torn. Torn between staying and leaving, you think.

“Naruto?” You ask, thinking of the blond guy who couldn’t stop talking. “Your friend?”

“Boyfriend,” she explains, cheeks red, “But I can call of the date if you need me.”

“I won’t die tonight,” you exclaim, thinking it funny until she pales. “I swear, I’m fine. Besides, Shino’s here to watch me. Or do you have a date as well?”

He doesn’t answer and somehow that’s answer enough.

When the door closes behind her the room feels suddenly too small for the two of you.

“Were you trained by your family, Shino?” You ask, hoping that a different topic will get rid of whatever this is.

“Yes. Most families have special Jutsu that they train their children in. Isn’t it the same in the Land of Sound?”

“It is, but not everyone has a family to train with.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” The question comes out harsher than intended. He doesn’t back down.

“I lost my brother in the war. My mother died when I was born.” His tone doesn’t ask for sympathy yet you cannot help but extend it to him. Your mother is the reason you survived.

“What’s your family's special Jutsu? You do have one, don’t you?”

Instead of an answer, he raises his arm. Dark dots appear on the pale skin. Only when they take flight do you realize that they’re insects.

One, two, three land on top of the blanket covering you. 

You watch them move for a minute before you lift your own arm as well. Ice starts to cover it like a second skin, breaking off in flakes at first before you get the shapes right.

One, two, three perfectly formed ice bugs fly over to him, landing on his outstretched arm.

Your arm drops, exhausted from the task, the bugs vanish.

“Sleep,” he says, and to your embarrassment, you do so almost instantly.

-x-

You do not tell her - or anyone for that matter - but Hinata is the reason you agree to peace talks with the Daimyō of the Land of Fire. 

It’s hard to rule a country of thousands, even more so when your heart belongs to only a few. 

Would you throw it all way if it meant foregoing to fight her? 

Would she even have to fight? 

There’s too much to think about there.

But you suspect you’re not the only one who thinks like you.

Not when it becomes clear that the friendship between Naruto and the Kazekage is the main reason for the alliance between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind.

I wish to stay, you write your Sensei, your words encoded, I have never felt like this before.

Love, and friendship do not care about distance, he writes back and you wonder how he already knows, long before you’ve admitted it to yourself.

“I will have to return soon,” you tell Shino after meeting with a few of the Kage’s, knowing the others are on their way to meet you.

Now that the Land of Sound is great again, a threat to the new Peace, everyone wants to settle their debts with you.

You’ve heard the rumors, mainly because Naruto cannot keep his mouth shut, about you. How you’re strong enough to be the Otokage but refused the Position - which is true - or how you only speak when asked - a blatant lie.

He nods, hands hidden in his sleeves where you cannot grasp them.

You’re out in public, the perfect picture of obedience, him traveling two feet behind you.

Hinata’s out with Naruto and you’re supposed to meet her somewhere, trusting Shino that he will lead you however he decides to do it.

“I’d like for you to accompany me.”

You can feel his eyes on you, curious this time. Sometimes they’re worried, sometimes they’re stern - when you refuse another helping of food or fight against Sakura’s advice - and sometimes, though still rarely, they’re warm, like sunlight falling on snow.

-

“I want to ask,” Naruto’s rubbing his nose, a clear indicator that he’s anxious, “If you’d do me a favor.”

“I won’t if you don’t cut to the chase.”

“Oh, ha, well…” he clears his throat, “I want to propose to Hinata. Ask her to marry me. And well… I want it to be special. Like nothing she’s seen before.”

“If you need money…”

“NO!” He pulls back as Shino steps forward, always on Guard. “No, no, not like that. It’s the beginning of early summer, but you probably know that Hinata loves Winter. I know you use Ice in your Jutsu, like Haku, I just… I thought maybe you could make it snow.”

“Ah,” you nod, understanding. “Winter in June, I get it. Yes, that can be arranged.”

“It can?”

“Of course, who do you think me for? But you’ve asked her father, right?”

“Of course!” He blushes right after. “He wasn’t too happy, but I suppose he never is.”

-

Is it surprising that Shino’s your shadow as you climb the Hokage Rock, the sight before you the village you used to despise? Not really.

His presence is as dear to you as Hinata’s, warm and reassuring when warmth used to be your enemy.

“I decided,” he tells you as you watch the sun rise, “I will come with you. Though my father insists to have me back after three months at the least.”

You grasp for his hand and it’s not hidden, warm skin against your cold.

Today might mark the happiest day - yet - for Hinata, but you suppose you can share that sentiment. You’re friends, after all.

-x-

Shino’s two feet behind you, shadow looming over you as you step into the gorge that marks the entry to Otogakure.

The sound of your footsteps, your breathing, the beating of your hearts reverberates around you until there is no more place for thought inside your bodies, until you only exist to hear.

You’ve missed it and loath it at the same time, the absence of Silence you’ve become used to.

Shino pulls you back, presses his chest against your back. You suppose he must struggle with it, the omnipresence of Sound. Everyone does when they come here. You either learn to live with it or you lose your mind.

You know that speech would only increase the problem, so you gesture to make yourself known. Lastly, you lean in, press your lips against the shell of his ears. 

It’s nothing but a short lived remedy, more of a bold statement than a means to help. 

But he is here with you, a living, breathing statement that someone chose you too.

-

You don’t want to say it, barely dare to think it, but he fits in.

Otonin are quiet, most of the time, every sound already increased tenfold by nature. They choose their words wisely, step quietly, breathe almost soundlessly. 

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t help but be attracted to him.

Or maybe it’s the fire in his veins, the warmth he exudes when he pulls you in at night.

He’s got a separate room though you don’t know when he used it last.

.

But rumors travel even when no words are exchanged.

Some servants already call him the Lord and more than once you’ve witnessed Shinobi bow to him in respect as well.

It’s still hard to believe that their obedience is willing, that they’re not following you out of fear as they did with your father. 

It gives you hope for the future.

Maybe, when the snow melts, there’s more to life than death.

-

“I need to leave,” Shino announces one morning over breakfast, a scroll next to his plate.

“When?” You ask, the tea suddenly leaving a shallow taste in your mouth, “For how long?”

“As soon as possible,” he offers you the scroll, “My father is in urgent need of my assistance. I cannot say how long it will take me.”

“Of course,” you manage to say, your mind swirling, a shiver settling in your bones. Have the rooms turned cold all of a sudden or is that something else, growing inside you?

“I will return,” he promises, conviction clear in his voice.

“Of course,” you reply almost mechanically, “And there’s Hinata’s wedding too.”

.

He’s gone within the same day, taking spring with him and summer too.

And it’s only now that he’s missing that you feel both their absences at once.

You wonder how Hinata’s feeling, if she even remembers you.

All her letters suddenly feel like they’re taunting you, reminding you of how much space there is between the two of you.

-

“It’s not unusual for the Daimyō to live outside of their hidden village,” Hitoshi offers when he visits, used to giving you advice from the day you could formulate a question. Maybe he did it even before that.

“In the same country, Sensei,” you remind him, still unable to call him Otokage as you should. Without him, you’d have no one here to trust even though he tries to make you believe something different.

“I heard the Kazekage is building a train from their Hidden Village to Village Hidden in the Leaves. Cutting the traveling time short.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, dear, but it’s a start.” And he ushers you to your desk, all things already prepared.

If not for him, you might have lost your mind. Maybe you did. Maybe these projects are just signs of you losing what you never had.

Maybe you’re just a lovesick fool, all hope already lost.

.

I am thinking of you, always.

His letters are consistent, strong in their conviction, though not nearly as soothing to your heart as his presence would be.

When did you turn weak like this, brought to your knees by the absence of another?

You don’t doubt the servants are already talking about it.

How the Lady’s face has lost her glow in the absence of her lover.

You want to snarl at them but don’t. You’re not your father.

-

“I am the Daimyō of the Land of Sound,” you declare at the gate, though unnecessary. Your clothes scream of your wealth.

You will not dare to wear anything but the best to Hinata’s wedding.

“Welcome back,” the Guards greet you, their faces friendly. 

The Gate no longer feels like it’s mocking you. Today it’s calling you home.

.

Is there a greater joy than to hug Hinata? Wrap your arms around her after months of missing her dearly, feel her heart beat strong, her breath com even?

“It’s so good to have you back.”

And for a few days, it’s like it used to be. 

Walks in the park, her laughter in your kitchen as she insists on making you bone broth - “You’re not eating enough, I just know it.”

But life changes, all the time. 

Shino sits next to you as her father walks her through the crowd, his hand warm in yours despite all the people around you. 

If you don’t cry that’s only because the tears freeze to snowflakes in your lashes, little crystals reflecting the ice until Shino wipes them away with a careful fingertip.

He doesn’t talk much, not that he needs to. It’s enough to have him there.

-

“A speech,” the people call out.

Hiashi Hyuuga raises a glass. The Hokage. The Kazekage.

Finally, you raise your glass and the crowd falls silent.

“The only blessing I have for you is that you might stay the way you are. Courageous, believing in others…” You hesitate for a moment, feel a warm hand in the hollow of your knee, the only place where no one can see Shino’s innocent, comforting touch, the reminder that he’s here, too. “A place in the sun.”

You raise your glass a little higher, a sign for the others to drink on the lucky couple.

Snowflakes flutter down like the petals of Cherry Blossoms and with the burning red and gold of the autumnal forests behind you, it looks almost like the snow is falling on fire.

But it doesn’t melt.

And if that doesn’t give you hope, you don’t know what will.

.

One week later, just shy of your planned departure, Shino walks you through the forest behind his home, where sound is something so unfamiliar you can feel the Silence settle in your bones.

“I can never fully move to Otogakure,” he explains quietly, “Why? I am next in Line as the Head of the Aburame. I have to be home frequently.”

“I can never fully move to Konoha,” you offer just as softly, heartbreaking at the truth, “My country needs me, if not all the time then at least constantly.”

His hand is warm around yours, bugs tickling as they move from his skin to yours, crawling up and down until they form a slim, black, living ring around your finger.

“Before Konoha, the Aburame used to be nomads, traveling with the seasons, their life as hosts the most important thing. If you’re willing, I’d be open to a revival of this… in a different sense.”

A single tear escapes your eye, warm on your skin. 

If you needed any reminder that he’s capable of melting your heart, you have it now.

Unable to form words you lift your joined hands and press your lips to his ringfinger, forming a ring of ice around it with your breathe.

Maybe later, when your hearts have settled, you will think about something permanent.

But, as Hitoshi would say, Love does not care about these things.

Love sees beyond.  

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[hux-and-gay]

posting my Kylux Sims outfits because I’m bored!

my mods wouldn’t work most of the time so everything is base game, except for one thing

please don’t judge my Sim making skills. I just got this app I like 2ish days ago. Very frustrated. It wouldn’t let me make Kylo’s hands bigger or his neck longer because now they look weird >:(

Anyway ignoring that

CASUAL CLOTHES

they’re emo guys! I make them both wear make up because yes. Also, Hux totally like acted like he was reluctantly letting Kylo paint his nails when in reality, he paints his nails in secret all the time.

FORMAL WEAR

I know crazy Hux isn’t wearing black, I’m sorry the black version of that top made him look like he was from Bridgerton! And Kylo’s hair is in a bun because yes! Also, I don’t know why Kylo has a Second ring that was not intended

ATHLETIC WEAR

Love how the way these photos are cropped makes Hux look taller. Ignore Kylo’s shoes they’re ugly. There were very limited options of shoes, and I don’t like repeating clothing. Anyway, Hux is wearing Kylo’s jacket hehe~

It’s a long story, I wanted to put Hux in a tracksuit, but the only one they had was for women so when I put it on him it gave him boobs and that looked weird, so I put him in a different jacket not the one he’s wearing and then it glitched, and it deleted it, and then I couldn’t find it again, so I gave him Kylo‘s and pretended it was intentional

PARTY OUTFIT (my personal favs)

They’re both giving Smexy vampire and I’m in love. I saw that hair for Kylo and had to use it for something, but you see this is where the short neck looks weird grrr

also look at the heels!

(when it’s revealed that Hux is wearing stockings under his outfits because I was too lazy to change them every time)

SLEEP WEAR

OK but like Hux had to have the robe, that was kind of mandatory. Anyway, I contemplated just doing boxers for Kylo, but it looked too similar to his swim wear and I don’t like when things look too similar so I picked this. Also, the bunny slippers are a reference to my grocery store meet cute one shot.

just FYI, there was a version of Hux in lingerie 😂

SWIM WEAR

Yes Hux is in a Bikini, enough said

He also had dog tags on in his sleep wear but they wouldn’t show. Also, now you can see how ugly and tiny Kylo’s hands are and why I was so mad they wouldn’t let me change it!

oh, and if you’re wondering why Hux has that little blotchy mark on his face it’s because I was using my psoriasis and eczema head canon so I picked the mark that looks closest to mine

HOT WEATHER

I did Hux’s beach outfit from my vacation crack fic 😂

also his nails are pink bc yes, and Kylo gets to put his hair up again. He’s probably still hot wearing fucking all black like that

COLD WEATHER

I don’t know why this particular screenshot of Kylo makes him look so squished, but it does . Also, the Hux reading glasses finally made an appearance! And I gave him earrings again, because why not?

BONUS

Kylo’s outfit from my Vacation Crack Fic 😂

This was the one peace of CC I used

————————————————————————

@dragonflies-draw-flame

[random-thot-generator]

Love Thy Frenemy + Interlude

(Frenemies/Tenderness AU)

Interlude | One-Shot: The Life of a Ghost

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

(Notes: This is a brain purge. It’s a one-shot scene with Ghost and Captain Price. I was working on chapter 6, but had to purge this before I could continue, so here it is lol. You don’t have to read it, but after rediscovering that quote, I knew I had to write something for Ghost/Simon, and this is the result. It gives a little more insight into his state of mind about Reader/’Doll’, and how he’s coming to terms with certain feelings he’s been ignoring. I didn’t bother with a taglist this time since this is more self-indulgent than anything else, but if you do read, I hope you enjoy!)

Warnings/Tags: Mentions of canon-typical violence, Profanity, Simon’s poor coping mechanisms and nihilistic attitude, Price is a good dad/bruv, no Y/N

Word Count: 1467

Interlude

-

“I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost."

— Jack Kerouac, On the Road Jack

-

Simon sat atop the roof of the admin building overlooking the base. Bright halogen security lights buzzed an incessant hum, soldiers on guard duty patrolling the fenced perimeter. It was late, after two in the morning, but he was too restless to sleep yet, the adrenaline of the last op leaving him tense and keyed up despite his fatigue.

It had been a close one today. He touched the bandage at his cheek and winced. Just a centimeter or two to the left, a mere fraction of a head turn, and his brains would have been splattered against the mudbrick wall he’d been using for cover. He could still recall the sound of his mask cracking as the bullet grazed his face, the stinging sear of pain across his cheek, his rifle coming up to take out the enemy on instinct because his brain was otherwise occupied.

Death had just caressed his cheek, and all he could think about in that moment was you. It was your face that had loomed up in his mind’s eye, so clear he’d breathed out the one word he associated most with you.

“Doll.”

Nothing like that had happened to him in a very long time, not since he’d lost his family. There were times that he had felt fear when facing death, but it was a base, primal kind of fear, like that of a wild animal ready to fight for its life. He had also felt genuine fear for his team before when their lives had been in danger. This kind of fear he was used to, could control, but what had happened to him today...

The fear he had experienced today had stripped him of all his pretenses and bullshit. It had forced him to acknowledge feelings he harbored but pretended didn’t exist. It forced him to accept something that he didn’t fucking want: the responsibility of living for someone else.

This is what you did to him. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He was pissed at you for it, pissed at you for making him feel this way, pissed at you for this whole bloody mess...

And it still didn’t change the fact that you would be the first person he went looking for as soon as he got home, because he needed to see you. He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want any of this, yet he couldn’t bloody stay away. He’d tried. Fuck him, he’d bloody tried, and he couldn’t fuckin’ do it.

He was right fucked, wasn’t he?

Simon huffed out a chagrined breath and thumped his head back on the metal housing of the heating unit behind him. Scrubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw, he squeezed his eyes shut. His Ghost mask, in need of repair or replacement, was gone for now, traded in for a fresh balaclava, its stretchy material pulled up to the bridge of his nose. Slitting his eyes open, he squinted up at the cold stars above and inhaled another lungful of smoke. “I’m fucked,” he told them, as he parted his lips, letting the smoke curl out of his open mouth in lazy, white coils. He watched it drift up into the frigid night air to hang like a specter over his head before the wind banished it to the ether.

The squeak of hinges sounded off to his left as the access door to the roof was opened. He heard his captain approaching before he saw him, Price’s booted steps thumping along the roof in a steady cadence. He sat down with a grunt beside Simon and sighed, his breath fogging in front of his bearded face.

“Thought I’d join ya,” he said, pulling the stub of a cigar out of his shirt pocket. He patted over his body until he located his lighter, then blew on the end of the cigar and lit it. He puffed away until thick, sweet smoke curled up to join with Simon’s. “How’s the cheek?” he asked.

Simon shrugged. “’S alright, just a graze. Didn’t even need stitches. Bullet cauterized it.”

Price took in his words, their deadpan delivery. He nodded, though his mind had already drifted back to the mission, to their harried exfil, recalling the look he had seen in Ghost’s wide stare when he’d stumbled aboard the helo. The captain saw something in the other man’s eyes he had never seen during a mission before: fear.

He didn’t fault his lieutenant for it; he was honestly relieved to see it after such a close call. It was a normal reaction, under the circumstances. Still, it wasn’t Ghost’s normal reaction. How he was acting right now— cold, distant and mildly disdainful— that was his normal reaction. This time, however, it didn’t seem to ring as true as it did before.

Price had once asked Ghost how he could be so blasé about his own mortality. Ghost’s answer had chilled him to the bone and caused him no small amount of concern for his lieutenant.

“Yer only scared o’ death when ya got somethin’ to lose.” Simon had told him with cold, dead eyes. “Not an issue fer me. If I die, I die. Don’ really fuckin’ care.”

That look of fear Price had glimpsed in Ghost’s eyes had been telling. Something had changed, had been changing with his lieutenant over the course of several months. It had been subtle, gradual enough to escape immediate notice, but after this last mission, Price was now paying very close attention. Did Ghost now have something to lose?

Price left the cigar in his mouth as he pondered the question, letting his arm drop back to his side. His hand landed on something flat and rectangular— a book, he realized, glancing down. He picked it up and held it up to the light of the security lamps to read its cover. ‘On the Road’ by Jack Kerouac.

“Seems like I had to read this in secondary school,” he murmured, flipping the book open. It was a new copy but already bore numerous highlighted passages and scribbled notes in the margins.

Simon tensed beside him but said nothing as the captain’s blunt fingers skimmed over pages, eyes darting back and forth as he read a highlighted section.

“I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost."

Price felt his throat constrict. He knew how and why Ghost chose his callsign, but the passage could not have described his lieutenant’s situation any more succinctly. It was almost prescient in nature, reading it now. He cleared his throat and closed the book, placing it back where he found it.

“Favorite of yours?” he rasped out. “Didn’t know you read that sort of stuff. Usually see you readin’ those old pulp sci-fi books.”

Simon grunted out a short laugh. “I usually don’t, but Doll loan—” He caught himself, biting off the sentence. “A friend loaned it t’me once.” He gave a shrug. “Kinda grew on me. Bought my own copy.”

Price nodded, letting the smoke roll out of his mouth before speaking again. “Loanin’ ya books like that, she must be quite a smart lass,” he said without missing a beat.

Simon blinked. His shoulders lost some of their tension. “She is.” He huffed another laugh, this one softer, as he tilted his head down to look at his legs stretched out in front of him. “Too bloody smart fer me, tha’s fer sure.” He lifted his head and looked toward the direction of the gates. “When can we get out o’ here? Ready t’go home.”

Price tried to hide his surprise at the question by studying the end of his cigar. He usually had to coerce his lieutenant into taking his leave, but not of late, he now realized. He slanted a sly side-eye at him. “De-briefing’s at 0700, then you’ll be free to go. Unless you want to stay and volunteer to help train those new recruits comin’ in tomorrow? Advanced field tactics?”

Simon sniffed. “Fuck ‘em. ‘M goin’ home.”

A pleased little smile tilted up the captain’s mouth as he looked up at the stars. “That’s alright. I can assign it to one of the other lads.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smile widening. “If ya think of it, ask your doll if she has any Louis L’amour. Partial to the westerns, myself.”

Simon grunted, half-irritated, half-amused. “I’ll see what I can do, Cap.”

-

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