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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Hmm. You and Eddie having a running gag where he proposes to you in restaurants for free desert but one day it’s not a joke anymore and he’s really asking 💍 🫢

AN | I adore this concept and hope I did it justice! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were about to say something to Eddie, leaning across the table, immediately getting lost in those big brown eyes like you had a million times before. But before any words could make it out of your mouth, a loud burst of cheering and applause interrupted you. Both of you turned to look at the sudden commotion and your heart immediately flipped a few times.

There was a man down on one knee, holding out a box containing a beautiful, ornate ring to a very bored looking woman. Within seconds she switched and was crying, dramatically fanning at her eyes before shouting a loud yes and eagerly grabbing the ring out of the box. You exchanged a look with Eddie, who playfully rolled his eyes as you giggled.

After a few moments, when everything settled down you spied the waiter bringing out what appeared to be a very fancy dessert that was allegedly compliments of the restaurant. You motioned your head in their direction so Eddie would look; you clocked the amused little expression.

“So, I’m like totally certain they’re going to be divorced within a year if they even make it to the wedding,” you whispered so only he could hear, “but that dessert looks fantastic.”

“And free,” he joked, “what’s better than that? I’m curious though, why don’t you think they’ll make it?”

“It’s obvious,” you stated as he shook his head in amusement, “look at the body language, he’s clearly older, and she’s barely said anything, he’s the one doing all the talking. Plus, when he asked the question, she didn’t go to hug him, she just grabbed the ring. Tell me you’re in it for the money without telling me.”

“Ahhh,” he watched with a tender expression on his face that you missed from your little spy session, “very observant of you, my smart girl.”

“Could never be me,” you shook your head before grabbing your wine and finishing the glass.

“Oh?” Eddie teased, his pretty pink lips quirked into a dopey grin, “you aren’t dating me for my money?”

“Sorry rockstar,” you nudged his foot with yours before beaming at him, “I’m only with you because I love and adore you.”

“Damn,” he sighed dramatically, “here I was thinking if I was in a semi-popular local rock band I’d have you all over me for material things.”

“Nah,” you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over and kissed his cheek, “all I ever need is you. Besides, marriage is a sham. You don’t need to be married to be happy…all you really need is love, ya know?”

“Totally,” he agreed, his mind already reeling with a thousand different thoughts; all of them started and ended, however, with how much he loved you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him

“Babe,” you hear him before you see him as you stand in front of the full length mirror, looking yourself over. You saw his roguish curls in the mirror behind you as he breathed in sharply, “holy fuck.”

“What?” you turned around and looked down to see if something had happened to your dress, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he tenderly reached over, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, "you're just so beautiful - how do you keep getting more beautiful? It's unfair."

"Eddie," your face warmed up as you tried to brush him off. He opened his mouth to say something else but you slapped your hand over it, "I've worn this dress loads! And I look the same as always. So dramatic, honey boy."

The boy in question turned your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "I said what I said."

"Fine," his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling into his warm frame, "you're getting more and more handsome all the time. Now can we please get going? Otherwise we'll miss our reservation and we've had it for months!"

"Do you trust me?"

“What do you…of course, Eds. More than anyone.”

“Good.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was about halfway through your meal of ridiculously exquisite food and smooth alcohol that you noticed something was off. Eddie’s expression shifted between excitement and nerves and you wondered what he was up to. But you never got the opportunity to ask because your metalhead pushed back his chair and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, black velveteen box.

“Eds…”

“Angel, darling, absolute love of my life,” your eyes widened in surprise as you lightly shook your head in a vain attempt to stop. You should have known better. You should have known that he was still getting down on one knee in front of you, “I love you beyond measure, beyond what I ever thought was possible. You have made me the happiest and luckiest man in the world. There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. Will you do me the honor of letting me be your husband?”

“Eddie,” you hissed under your breath, acutely aware of the fact that seemingly every eye in the house was trained on the two of you, “what’re you doing?!”

“Trust me.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded, a grimace that could be mistaken for a nervous smile on your face. At least you really were surprised, “of course I’ll…marry you.”

He grabbed the ring out of the box - that alone left you with a load of questions - and delicately placed it on your ring finger. You laughed nervously as he leaned in to kiss you, a large hand gently cradling your face, “just trust me baby.”

To anyone else it probably looked like a sweet exchange between now fiancees; not him trying to calm you and you trying not to glare daggers. After a few more soft pecks placed on his lips, he sat back down as people around you clapped happily.

“Edward Munson,” you digusised your annoyance with a sticky, sweet smile, “what the fuck?”

“I-”

“For the happy couple,” a waitress magically appeared, holding a plate piled with a delicious dessert and set it down between the two of you, “your meal and everything is on the house this evening. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he gave her that stupidly dazzling smile as you suddenly put the pieces together. Once she walked away, he cocked his head to the side and looked at you with a triumphant smile, “I love you, baby.”

“You’re an absolute bastard,” there was no malice behind your words as you grabbed one of the forks, “all of this for a free dessert? Ridiculous man.”

“Yout ridiculous man,” his pretty cheeks were tinged with pink and his doe eyes were glittering with joy. Maybe you did just fall in love with him a little more in that moment, “and in case you didn’t hear her, it’s all on the house. So there you go - we finally got to try the restaurant you wanted and it was free! And all it took was getting fake engaged.”

“Never change, Eddie Munson,” you whispered, clinking your fork against his, “I love you endlessly.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him

“Baby, baby, baby,” Eddie sang happily as he walked through the front door to the little house you’d made a home. He’d just gotten off work at the body shop, giddy to come home and see his best girl. It amused you sometimes; he still kept his day job, despite his band’s increasing popularity and notoriety. You looked from the bowl of brownie batter you were whipping up and beamed at him. He came over and picked you up before spinning around a few times, “I’ve missed you.”

“Eddie!” you were dizzied and breathless from his affection, “you’re filthy - you’re gonna ruin my new dress!”

“I’ll buy you a hundred new ones,” he promised, setting you down and taking you face in hands. His touch was soft and gentle, despite his rough, calloused fingertips, “my beautiful girl.”

“You better kiss me,” your heart was pitter-pattering wildly as butterflies exploded in your tummy, “if you’re going to keep looking at me like that.”

“Yeah?” a small, hopeful little question.

“Yeah,” so he kissed you, and kissed until you were melding into his body and breathless, “I love you, Eds.”

“Let me take you out,” you bounced on your heels and couldn’t but squeal softly. It’d been a bit since you’d last had a proper date night between your busy schedules, “wanna show off my girl.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You look like you’ve got something to say,” you pointed at him with your fork and Eddie shook his head, the picture of innocence and tranquility. You weren’t buying it for a moment - you knew him better than anyone else, “don’t lie to me. I know you’re up to something, Edward.”

“The full name?” he put his hand on his heart, groaning dramatically, “baby, you wound me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Listen…” he paused, taking a moment to compose himself before nodding, “you’re right - there is something I want to say.”

“Eddie…” the chair legs scraped against the hardwood floor as he stood up and came over to your side of the table. He didn’t have to get all the way down on his knee for you to know what was happening. You couldn’t even be annoyed or made at him, instead you were giggling, hiding your face behind your hand.

He reached up and gently pulled your hand away, holding it in one of his hands, “sweetheart - you are the light of my life…you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m so glad I walked into the record store that afternoon and ran into you - literally. The past few years have been like a dream and I can’t wait to spend the rest of them with you. Angel, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You were more prepared this time and didn’t miss a beat as you nodded softly. He fumbled in his pocket and displayed that same ring to you, and this time you eagerly held out your hand for him to slip it on, “I’d marry you a hundred times over.”

The two of you shared a knowing little kiss before reaching down to pull him up your lips, kissing him with a golden intensity. He nudged his nose against yours before whispering, “nice job, sweetheart. We really sold it.”

He kissed the tip of your nose before jokingly bowing and waved to your curious audience before pointing to you. You felt shy at the attention from the other diners and kept your gaze trained on him. You couldn’t deny that the idea of being his wife was…more intoxicating than you’d ever thought.

“What?” he asked as caught you watching him with heart eyes, “something on my face?”

“No,” you promised, “I just really love you is all.”

“I love you,” a tender, soft spoken statement, dissolved into a wink, “future wife.”

This time around, dessert didn’t soothe your soul nearly as much as the thought of calling Eddie your husband.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The third time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him

“Eddie?” you walked into the small rehearsal space that Corroded Coffin used, eager to see him after a long day. You found him as the last straggler, carefully stowing away his guitar, speaking sweetly to it, which only made you shake your head in adoration. You were head over heels in love with this man, “hello, my love.”

“Hi baby,” he held out his arms and immediately made grabby hands towards you, “cuddles please.”

"Funny," you walked to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, smashing your face into his back, "I was gonna ask you for the same thing."

"Great minds think alike," one of his hands settled on yours, promoting to shy softly, "what's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing at all,” you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, “just wanted to see you. Wanna go out to dinner? It’s late and it’s been a long week, I’m starving, and…kinda just wanna show off my man.”

“How could I ever say no to you?”

“You don’t. You’ve learned well for the past years, my love!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There really was nothing better than being with Eddie and getting to be in his magical orbit. It was easy to get lost in him, to fall so deeply entranced that you forgot everything else around you. That was, until of course, he shot you a wink accompanied by a cheeky smile. You knew the drill by now and weren’t phased as he went through the motions of a grand proposal.

Eddie spoke sweet words to you and while you knew that everything he was saying was true, you couldn’t stop the pang in your heart knowing the proposal wasn’t real. The ring was a silly little thing, a cheap one from the local department store, but that didn’t even really matter. You would have married him with a paper ring. And that’s when it hit you.

You wanted to marry him. You’d always been convinced that marriage was not for you and something you never wanted and yet…here you were. Eddie Munson had changed everything for you.

In that moment, while he went through the proposal spiel and asked you to marry him, you pretended he meant it when you said yes. Because you did mean it. The free meal and dessert couldn’t hold a candle to your happiness and love for him. But then again, it didn’t hurt either.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

…and the time Eddie Munson asks you to marry him for real

“I have an idea,” Eddie almost jumped on the bed as he came out of the bathroom, pajamas on and hair pulled into a messy bun. You set down your book and turned to him, your own smile matching his enthusiasm. Almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed you, slow and saccharine, “a brilliant idea.”

“Tell me,” you brushed a few of his unruly curls out of his face before touching his cheek, “if Eddie Munson had an idea, it has to be good.”

“Very funny,” but he was laughing too, “next weekend, let’s take a little trip out of town, just you and I. Whaddya say?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“There is none,” he grinned wolfishly, “just want to spend some quiet time away with my girl.”

“Count me in,” you agreed, your amusement quickly turned into a squeal of surprise as he laid down and pulled you on top of, looking up at you with reverence, “I love you, ya know?”

“That’s good,” he mused softly, “‘cause I’m crazy in love with you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” If there was one thing Eddie loved, it was flirting. Flirting with you, in particular and despite how long you’d been together it still made you giggly and shy. You leaned forward on your elbow and looked at him with an eyebrow raised, “because you’re a knockout, baby.”

“Shut up,” a soft, gentle response that made him cheese harder, “besides it’s the dress. The dress you happened to pick out and get for me, dummy.”

“You don’t like it?” his expression turned worried as you shook your head.

“I love it,” you put your hand on his arm, “it’s stunning - thank you for it. This whole weekend…it’s been magical.”

“You deserve it,” he promised and that damned smile made you want to melt into a puddle, “there’s something else you deserve…”

And this time you hadn’t been expecting it. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small box. Your surprise was genuine as he hadn’t done this in a while and you weren’t thinking he would do it during an already over the top luxe weekend.

He kneeled down in front of you and reached for your hand as you tried to sus out what was going. He exhaled slowly before catching your head and almost chucking at your deer in headlights expression, “baby. I…I don’t know where to start. This went smoother in my mind!”

“Eddie…”

“Every single word I’ve said to you the times I’ve ‘proposed’ have been true and I’ve meant it,” oh. What was going on? He laughed nervously, “and I still mean it. You’re it for me and I’ve been a goner for you since the day we met. I love you beyond measure.”

“Edward.”

“I know we’ve always kind of made fun of marriage and how outdated the whole institution of it is,” the back of eyes started to prickle as you squeeze his hand, “but I’d really like to call you my wife. It has a nice ring to it.”

With that opened a small box and showed you the ring he’d picked out. It was gorgeous and way more than you could have ever dreamed of or asked for. You looked at him as if to say seriously and he nodded sweetly.

“Will you marry me?” it was barely above a whisper, inaudible to everyone else but you, “for real?”

“Yeah?” a few tears rolled down your cheeks which he gently brushed away.

“Yeah baby,” he promised, “I kinda really want to be your husband.”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you barely had a moment to realize what was going on before he was kissing you, sweetly and softly but with every ounce of love behind it. He pulled his lips away from yours for long enough to slip the ring onto your finger, lacing his fingers through yours, “I love you so much, Eddie.”

“I love you, angel. So much.”

And then he kissed you again and the world all but disappeared, including the clapping restaurant patrons, and all you knew was him.

Your soon-to-be husband.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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baeshijima · 20 days

Text

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seems from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

#what was initially a teehee shower thought became an ueue scenario #this was going somewhere and and then it got longer and longer and then took a severely angsty turn wtf #originally was going to keep this on the blog but then i cried at the end and decided it had to be let free <//3 #im sorry blade i love u i really do but that just means i need to put u through the emotional wringer haha... ha... a....#oh and also blade is kafkas bodyguard bc she promised to help find a way to cure him of his curse #(<- the mara/immortality equivalent wow we love unneeded lore !)#and yeah. this is me saying i have too many ideas and aus and idk what to do with myself so im blurting them out here #this is yet another cry for help 🥹#sophie talks : concepts <3 #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines

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multifandomwhore-003 · 7 months

Text

Random Hazel Callahan headcanons that have been rotting my brain for the past couple of days:

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x female! reader

Summary: Not needed

Genre(s): a little angsty at first, after that's it's just pure fluff

Warnings: mentions of trauma and maladaptive daydreaming

A/N: I'M GONNA WRITE MORE FOR HER BECAUSE I NEED IT SO STAY TUNED, also I listened to False God by Taylor Swift the entire time I wrote this.

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk , join tag list here

• She has horrible listening skills, usually her house has been a pretty noisy and chaotic place, even before her parents divorced, so she's learned to mute the outside world.

• It tends to annoy pretty much everyone else outside the fight club, the only exception being PJ, she perhaps got annoyed more than anyone.

• When you first noticed you had to repeat yourself at least five times whenever she was around, you tried to come up with different ways for her to keep up, like texting her as you spoke so she could read it as much as she needed to.

• Later on you found out it wasn't just about losing track of a conversation, as you asked to borrow one of her headphones one time, you were shocked her ears weren't bleeding right then and there.

"Fucking hell, Hazel! Are you trying to break your ears or something?" your ears hurt for a second.

"It's not loud at all" She placed them on her neck.

"Baby, I can hear the music coming out of those things like a concert speaker,"

• You decided to invite her over to your house as often as possible, demanding a no-headphones rule.

"Why not?!" she complained.

"Because you're gonna be completely deaf at the age of 40!"

"And you'll be there to teach me sign language, right?" she hugged your waist.

"You're saying you prefer not hearing my voice for the rest of our lives?" you lifted a brow.

• The realazation dawned on her.

• To this day she hasn't worn headphones a single day in her life.

• Maladaptive daydreaming is also something she struggles with, not as much now as she used to in middle school and the first two years of high school, but it still happens sometimes.

• You found out when you decided to surprise her by coming to her house one day

• Mrs. Callahan said she couldn't get in contact with Hazel, for whatever reason.

• Most likely her phone turned off since it was out of battery.

• So she texted you she was gonna be missing all night, permitted you to stay the night, and told you to take care of Hazel.

• You found her in the kitchen yelling, it sounded as if she was yelling at someone.

"Are you ever gonna choose me over a booty call?! How is it that Jeff's dick is more important than me?! Your daughter! You fucking pushed me out and you still can't even ask me how my grades are doing and shit!"

• Your first thought was —Her mom's plans must've been canceled—

• As you approached the room as quietly as possible, you looked through the rim of the entrance, there was no one.

"Hazel," you spoke quietly through her screams.

A shiver went down her spine, he face turned white, she blinked a couple of times before turnind her head, "How much of that did you hear?" she avoided your eyes.

"I've never heard you like that," was all you could mutter as you approached her slowly and then embraced her in a hug, "I know you're not insane by the way," you whispered in her hair.

She began to cry.

• She didn't want to talk about it for the next few days

• When she did, she stumbled upon her words, talked too fast, and teared up every once in a sentence.

"Call me first," you cupped her face, "I'll never judge you for whatever you have to say,"

• She wanted to kiss you right then and there, but just rested her forehead on yours, an act of ultimate intimacy.

• I could get into the divorced parents' trauma for hours because same

• But for now I'll move on to the happy part

• Physical touch is the absolute most pure form of love she can give

• If she's not hugging your waist at all times, she's holding your hand, resting her head on your chest, shoulders, legs, etc. pretty much everywhere she can

• If you have long or medium hair she'll attempt to braid your hair, keyword attempt

• If you have short hair she'll buy little elastic ponytails to tie them around your head everywhere she can

• Her reasoning behind this is that her favorite plants are cactuses

• That's it, that's all the reasons she needs

• If you happen to be bald she'll rub your head while singing the chorus to Diamonds by Rihanna

• She plays ukelele

• She knows how to make a few origami figures and if she tries a new one, as crumbled and sweaty as it is she gives it to you

• You have a whole shelf in your room dedicated to every piece of folded paper she's ever done for you

• If you're more of a fem! girl, she'll try something of yours whenever she comes over and stare at her reflection for hours

"Good thing, god didn't make me straight, she knew I would be a menace,"

• You can only roll your eyes and laugh at her twirling and pretending to dance ballet in your dresses and skirts

• If she happens to go shopping without you, she'll try something you'll like and send you the photo after

"If it looks this good on me, imagine how AMAZING it'll look on you,"

• She once asked you to put makeup on her, she'll say she was just curious how she'd look

• She wasn't lying, but she also didn't mention she just wanted to recreate this picture:

• If you happen to be more of a masc! girl, you'll trade clothes as often as you can think

• More than once you have arrived at school with something she likes and just drags you to the bathroom to for you to make the exchange

• It's not her clothes and your clothes anymore, everything you own is hers and vice versa

• More often than not you're no longer sure what used to be only yours

• This goes for accessories and shoes as well, even if they don't fit her, she'll fill them up with toilet paper until they fit just fine

• You'll match AT LEAST once a week, as per her request of course

• She tries all kinds of chips (or crisps for my British luvs) she has tried every flavor and seasoning, but her favorites and the flaming hot ones, even if she ends up chugging your waterbottle after finishing the bag

• Although her parents are rich and taught her from a young age to be a precise wine taster, she's a tequila and vodka girl

• She hates gloomy and rainy days because they bring down her mood, but spending the day binge-watching cheesy movies and stuffing her stomach with all the snacks o her house makes it up

• She's ABSOLUTE SHIT at Karaoke, but my god does she have the spirit

• Her go-to song is Lies by Fleetwood Mac, but if she's drunk enough to gain confidence she'll request Easy On Me by Adele

• If she insists for long enough and you decide to sing with her, she 100% will try to recreate the following musical numbers:

• Lay all you love on me -Mamma Mia

• Every duet there is in Teen Beach Movie, her favorite childhood movie

• The cellblock tango -Chicago and Ex-Wives -from Six, if the rest of the fight club joins as well

• Popular from Wicked, strangely enough, she's Glinda

• Seventeen -Heathers

• Candy Store -Heathers featuring Isabel as Heather Mc Namara, Josie as Martha Dunnstock, and PJ as Veronica (She was heavily forced to after Brittany suggested it)

• Smooth Criminal -The Glee cast cover

• If you're a good singer, or at least a decent one, at the end of the song she'll hype you up more than anyone in the crowd, even carry you (this also applies to my plus size! lovelies, DON'T YOU WORRY, she has muscles)

• If you're a bad singer, then you'll be shit together, the worse your voices sound, the better you'll enjoy it

• Onto the kissing and overall more stereotypical relationship stuff, aka the not-so-comfortable part of my asexual-spectrum girlies.

• As previously shown in the original material

• Kissing is slow and passionate, she likes to enjoy your lips as much as possible, taking in every movement, taste, and breath

• Hands on your jaw and neck EVERY FUCKING TIME

• The first few times you offered her some chapstick or lipstick, or lipgloss, or lip oil, or anything, she would kiss you making you chuckle in surprise

• Now you don't even need to ask, she'll just be like

"Hey, your lips look beautiful," and peck you on the lips

• If you're alone it definitely turns into a whole makeout session

• She just claims it tastes too good not to do it

• Every once in a while she'll hug you from behind and aggressively kiss your cheek

• Good luck kisses before every test

• Her favorite kind of dates are picnic dates

• She takes pictures of the sky whenever she feels it matches your vibe

• She takes A LOT of pictures of you ANYTIME, ANYWHERE, she even went as far as to buy a film camera because they make everything more magical

• She reads A LOT

• She obviously knows too much about social injustices and everything regarding that realm, but she likes other things as well

• Avid fantasy reader, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES,

• Going back to this need for escapism, she was heavily raised by George R.R. Martin and Leigh Bardugo

• Definitely screamed, jumped, and overall looked like she was in a sugar rush when both Game of Thrones and Shadow and Bone came out

• She wasn't exactly allowed to watch Game of Thrones at the time it came out, so she watched when she was 16 instead

• Shadow and Bone, however, oh boy, it was whole event

• She cosplayed Sturmhond and made you cosplay as Zoya

That's it for now children, if I come up with anything else I'll do a part two or even better write something more complete

#hazel callahan bottoms movie #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan angst

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withahappyrefrain · 8 months

Note

BOB FLOYD CODED

YES IT IS. It's also Bob with a confident woman coded, which I absolutely love.

It was cute how he tried to blend in with the background. His seat may have been in the corner, but his tall broad frame made him stand out. Unlike his friends, he was quiet, occasionally joining in on the conversation, though quite content to just listen and watch.

He was adorable and God, did you want him.

So when his friends got up to go play pool and sing by the piano, you swooped in. His bright blue eyes widened as he took you in, like a deer in headlights.

"H-hello," his voice was deep with a slight rasp to it. You couldn't tell the location of his accent, but it was definitely rural.

Had the Navy not worked out, he could make a killing recording audiobooks.

"Hi handsome," you smiled as you gently pushed a dark blonde curl away from his forehead, "How ya doing?"

"I'm uh, good!" He cleared his throat, trying to maintain some composure, "Just to let you know, the blonde is engaged and like head over heels in love with her. Basically she worships her. The guy playing piano is free, but he's not ready for a relationship, or a one night stand. The girl next to him is open if you're open. If not, you can go for Javy, he's the one who is-"

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked, moving so that you were standing in between his legs. The newly close proximity allowed you to take in the scent of his cologne.

"I, uh," he tried scooting backwards, only to hit the wall, "Isn't that why you're here?"

He thought you were here to get information on his friends, not him.

How cute.

You simply shook your head, leaning forward, "I'm here for you handsome. What's your name?"

"B-Bob," his eyes widened again, "Wait, you're here for, for me?"

The idea of being the one a beautiful stranger would go after was foreign to Bob. Usually it was anyone else in his friend group. He was used to being the one that folks would go to in order to get information about someone else. This was a change.

Not that he minded.

In fact, Bob liked it. A lot.

Once the initial shock had worn off, he found himself easily able to strike up a conversation with you. He was so expressive, using his large hands and big eyes to help tell his stories. You found Bob quite knowledgeable, but never cocky. He was born in Montana and raised there until he was ten, when his family moved to California as his dad was part of the Navy, which explained his accent.

Inexperience wasn't his problem. It was just when he was out with his friends, who were stereotypically attracted, Bob tend to got lost in the mix of things.

A true shame, even though it was greatly benefiting you.

"I love your voice," You murmured against his ear, breath hot on his skin.

"You-really?" Bob squeaked, trying not to focus on how soft your skin felt against his, or the sweet scent of your perfume.

You giggled, the noise sweeter than any song Bob had ever heard, "Yeah. Love how deep it is. Could listen to it all day."

"I uh, that's uh, really nice of ya to say," His voice was shaky as your attention to him made Bob remember what was happening. A beautiful stranger went up to talk, wanted to talk to him, wanted to hear him.

On the other hand, you just simply smiled. He was so cute, having no idea what kind of effect he had on you.

Perhaps it was time to let him know.

Your lips trailed down to his neck, the scent of his aftershave absolutely addicting.

The grip he had on your hips increased, fingernails digging into the soft fabric of your shirt.

"Yeah? Could say the same about you darlin." His voice was lower, purposely so, as he cooed in your ear, "Your voice is so pretty, I've been wondering what other noises you can make with it."

So he could play the game after all.

You could too.

Gently, you lifted one left, raising it up and towards his lap. To distract him, you began peppering his jawline with kisses as you continued to direct your lifted knee closer and closer to his crotch.

While Bob's sharp gasp audibly let you know you reached your desired destination, you didn't need the sound to know.

You could feel him.

It's always the quiet ones.

Bob's fingers dug into the soft fabric of your skirt, willing himself to not moan on the stop, trying to remind him how awkward it would be to explain to his parents why he was honorably discharged from the Navy.

So instead, he pulled your hips towards him, practically closing the space between your bodies.

Gone was that sweet, yet unsure smile. In it's place was a confident smirk, that made your thighs clench.

When he stood up from his seat, it was then you realized how tall he truly was. Not that you minded.

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more private," His voice was seductively low against your skin, "I'm not into sharing."

#my writing #Bob Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #Bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fic

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valenishere · 1 month

Text

Sagau Idea

I'm not that good with writing YouPoV's so there may be some odd usage of they's and thems then switching to "you"'s. this'll be stock full of typos so be warned

Mentions of injury, implied murder, blood, and implied cult

It's been a long while since I've gotten into Self-aware genshin aus, reading the fluffiest scenes to straight up gore. And theres this concept I saw about where the creator (basically, you) can make any oc come to life and help them out. (this one read it s really good. They also expanded on it go read it too its a really neat build-up on it. this one)

And as a DnD enjoyer as well... there's this idea thats been brewing in my head whenever i think back to it.

What if in Imposter!au where they're being constantly being hunted... after getting cornered in one of the nations (in the Chasm for example) they get desperate and try out an idea they don't think would work.

While resting after being in the brink of death(again) in a place Teyvat has helped you conceal, your thoughts wander. You think, why is there even a Creator? There isn't supposed to be one. That kinda concept just disrupts everything they know about the game. It's a ridiculous concept. In your delirious state, you think, "I wish that just disappears... Then i wouldn't be..."

Then you remebered the curious ability you've recently unlocked in your "adventures". The ability to create characters, with some limitations. It took you quite a bit to adjust to your newfound ability and its caveats, resulting in a few heartbreaking loss on the way.

But as a DnD player, overcoming the death of your beloved characters quickly is a mental fortitude you've developed. And it's handy that you've already made a few characters for your past sessions before landing in Teyvat. It saved you from being one-shotted right from the start.

Although now... You're down to only one left.

"... I'm so tired..."

The mental stress of being in a constant state of danger, paranoia, hunger, pain, and exhaustion have worn you down to a point where you can't even think up of more characters to make up for the one's that have recently passed. You slipped up so bad because of sleeplessness that your last capable party of characters died and a hole was speared through your gut too.

As you lay bleeding on the cold ground, with only a talking mushroom to keep you company, you wrack your brain to put together a proper character but... you really can't. You can't even think straight. Not with the recent information you've found out.

The so-called Creator is now creating their very own characters, their very own people/army, through alchemy, and is now sending them after you, thus increasing your hunters by double. And on top of the already powerful vision-holders (of course they're powerful, you made them that way), you figured... "Ah... I'm fucked..."

Knowing you might as well be as good as done now, you didn't even bother bringing out the last of your characters to heal you. It's not like healing yourself will make you forget about this lifelong trauma--

... Forget?

...

A fleeting thought.

A dumb fleeting thought. A very dumb one at that.

One that will for sure backfire in your face if you do it wrong. And quite frankly, it could spell the end for this world, even for the one they call Creator.

... But it's not like you have anything else to lose.

And so, within the dim light of the mushroom, you painstakingly start to write. Word for word, cramming everything information you know, as deatiled as you can make it into bringing it into life. A character you've never tried making before. Something that could possibly end your suffering. Or make it worse.

You honestly don't know if you're doing it right. After all, you've never tried something like it before.

"What are you making this time?' the ever so curious mushroom asked.

You grin, a manic look in your eyes. "Either my stupidest... or my brightest idea yet."

It's not long befere you finished. You gaze upon your finished product and you have to say... it's even more fleshed out than your best characters. And that quick sketch you drew... you swear those hollow eyes are following you already. That may be just the blood loss talking.

"That's... one ugly worm you've drawn..." The mushroom hums, like it can just see the monstrosity that you've created.

You chuckle breathlessly, looking almost solemn with what you're about to do. Well... it' not wrong. But...

"This is my kid. Their name is... Falseh. Get along well with them... okay?"

0===|>>>>>.

The very ground trembles as the Lord of Geo strides through the dark tunnels, a dark look in his eyes and a spear in his hand. If his presence wasn't enough, the murderous intent rolling off of him in waves is enough to deter any beasts from crossing his path.

The imposter was last seen slinking around the depths of the Chasm by one of the Tianquan's agents. Although failing to execute the imposter the first chance they got with their incompetence, Morax have to commend the Qixing for being able to find them even in the depths of the earth.

For some reason, the land seems to reject his commands from time to time now. He was baffled as to why his beloved Maker is hindering him in fulfilling his given mission but he's just been informed that the land defiance of him is due to the imposter infecting the land with their vile abilities.

Now, he's even more hellbent on making sure to drive his spear through the imposters heart and presenting it to his Grace. He won't miss a second time.

His eyes sharpens as a he a cavern just up ahead, soft blue light spilling through entrance. Tightening his grip on his spear, the power of Geo gathers in his other, ready to skewer someone five times into death if he so wishes.

He steps through the entrance and immediately lands on a figure, leaning prone under a giant glowing mushroom. He relaxes a bit. He recognizes this place. It's a bit close to the Land of Verdure, Sumeru. He needs to be careful. He can't be caught flaunting his power on another Archons domain after all.

Approaching the figure, he gets a bit surprised as they twitch, looking up to him through their hair. They try to talk, but all they can manage are quiet wheezes.

'Oh. They're still breathing. That's good.' Zhongli kneels down beside them, looking them over. They look like they've been dragged through the Abyss and back. Their midriff is bandaged heavily but it's already bled through, forming a pool of their own blood below them. He frowns lightly. It must be quite a big injury if it's bleeding this much.

Wordlessly, he holds a hand over the injury and channels his power. He's not the most profficient in healing, but he should at least be able to stop the bleeding.

Mere moments later, he have plugged up the injury and the figure is now able to stand up.

"Th-Thank you so much Rex Lapis!" they bow down. Or at least, they bow down the best they can without opening their wound. "Any longer and I would've surely perished..."

Zhongli waves them off nonchalantly as he starts to walk back out the way he came. "It's best you get back to the surface. Your injury needs to be properly tended. And I can see that..."

His eyes drifts to the scattered bloody bandages and practically empty backpack. "You've run out of supplies. It is a virtue to you mortals to know when to give up. Remember that."

"Y-Yes sir Rex Lapis sir! I'll get back right away!" they start to quickly collect their things, haphazardly stuffing the bandages and handbook into the bag, being careful of their injury.

The Lord of Geo just watches for a moment before completely leaving, trusting that they won't make any stupid mistake and go back post haste.

After he has left, you pause in your packing, leaning against the mushroom and slowly sliding down with a shaky breath.

"Y-You... didn't you say he and the entirety of the world was hunting for you?" The mushroom hums in confusion, sharing your tension. "What was that? Heck, he was the one that put a hole through you and he healed you!"

You chuckle breathlessly, the manic look intensifying in your eyes as it dawns on you that it worked. That stupid idea of yours actually worked!

And if you can get to the Creator... you can make this whole concept disappear altogether. Forever.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see it. A large mass of hairless flesh writhing about, multiple tentacle-like appendages potruding out of it. It's slithering it's limbs about, coiling around the mushroom and and back again, and around you as well.

But when you turn your head to actually look, there's nothing there. All you can hear is what seems to be muffled humming, an eerie tune listlessly flowing through the air (but somehow, the sound is the most comforting thing ever).

"Oh it's nothing. I think... he just heard something that made him forget."

#chaotic blabbing #spreadingchaos #genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #sagau impostor au #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #genshin isekai #A Creature That Sings A Song That Makes You Forget #shi its already 2 in the morning #I wrote this half asleep so dont be surprised if it doesnt make sense #Falseh is pretty easy to figure out #hint it starts with a false and it has multiple heads that can sing #its a homebrew guy but i really like 'im y'know

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afterbluehours · 4 months

Text

The prince's playmate

warnings: fem!reader, unprotected piv sex, blowjob, name calling, spit play, cursing, I hope that's all, NSFW MDNI

note: thank you to my friend @taegimood for the feedback on the first part that inspired this second part!

part 1 here

Prince Beomgyu had found himself a playmate in a noble girl who frequents the castle, along with your parents. This means you're within reach a good amount of the time—not that he couldn't summon you, or anybody he wanted to, at his whim, of course. Of course, you knew that you weren't the only girl he had dalliances with, but for you there was always only him.

As soon as the doors are closed, he's unbuckling his belt, fingers working expertly at the golden fastening. You drop to your knees before he can even raise an eyebrow. You live for the sigh he heaves out when you throat him, eyes never leaving his face. His hands gather your hair at the top of your head before twisting the strands like a rope.

"Oh, yes," he breathes as you go incredibly deeper. His head knocks against the door as it falls back in bliss. "Throat fit for a king. Fuck."

Beomgyu treats you differently from all the others that he tangles with. The princely facade, though thinly worn to begin with, is discarded completely the moment you're together. He knows how far he can push you, that you will take everything he gives. And he doesn't pull out. If he were to get you pregnant, it would be an honour for you and your family—even if the child were to be raised in secret and have no claim as heir.

His hands are careless with your clothes, moving them aside or off as rough as he likes, as if they weren't expensive. The cold metal of his solid gold rings brushing against your skin makes you shiver, and it strokes his ego thinking that your reaction is from his touch alone.

You're a little bratty, always complaining about how you should be the only one he sleeps with.

"You're the best pussy I've ever had," he pants as he drills into you, your poor palms and knees pressing hard on the polished tile floor with every thrust. This time you didn't even make it past the doorway before he was balls deep and throbbing inside you.

"Then why do you need all those other girls?" you whine as you twist to look back at him, trying to maintain the sulky look in your eyes while he hits that golden spot that makes them want to roll backwards.

"Don't you like being my personal slut?" The prince asks, every word sounding so pretty from his mouth. He grips your chin, letting his thumb stroke along your jaw, his hips never faltering. It plays at the edge of affection, coaxing you into almost believing it is, ignoring the strain of your neck being held in this position. "Doesn't it make you feel important, leaving my quarters with your belly full of my seed?"

The moan that comes without your permission is all the answer he needs. "But-"

A sharp slap is delivered to your raised ass. "'Yes, your highness,'" he prompts.

"Yes," you keen. It takes all your strength not to buckle, readjusting your hands to hold up your weight. You're sure he feels you clench and moisten around him. "Yes, my prince."

He hums, hands returning to your waist as he pistons into you with more fervour.

Pushing back against him, you try not to think about how many nights this very week you've seen two figures on the highest balcony of the castle, knowing as well as anyone else what was happening up here. You’re at his every beck and call, so why does he feel the need to have others fill your role?

Your thoughts are abandoned at the sound of his moan as he reaches into the depths of you before pulling out completely, holding his wet cock in his hand. Looking back at him once more, you don't like the expression that now graces his face.

He hisses through his teeth as he allows himself a couple of strokes of his hand, before his eyes land sharply on yours. "Are you feeling ungrateful, my pet?"

The question delivers a nervous jolt to your stomach. "N-no, your majesty."

"Are you quite sure? Because I can call somebody else up here."

Your eyes long to glance down at the movement of his hands, but you know better than to break eye contact in a moment like this. You know what kind of a play he wants. Turning yourself around, which takes quite a lot of effort on all fours, you sit yourself at his feet. "Please."

One of his eyebrows tick upwards; your cue for more grovelling. You make your eyes as desperate for him as possible, looking up past the cock in his hands to find his eyes. He maintains his unimpressed appearance, so you move up onto your knees. Hands grabbing politely at the material of the velvet blazer he hasn't bothered to take off, you beg, "Use me to your satisfaction, your highness. I only want you to feel good. Please."

Beomgyu's eyes glow with gratification. His free hand comes to cup the side of your face, his royal sigil ring cool on the underside of your jaw. "Yeah? You're ready to be my good plaything again?"

You nod frantically, only now noticing the way your heartbeat has picked up.

"Back you go," he instructs, and you move into action before he can change his mind. Once you've presented yourself to him, back on your hands and knees with your ass nice and high, he presses the tip against your waiting hole. "Let me see you swallow it."

At his command, you push yourself back onto him, pushing him inside of you to the hilt in one go. The both of you moan out long and loud at the feeling, and you feel his forehead touch the nape of your neck for only a moment, hearing him sigh, "My pretty thing."

The moment ends too soon, but you can't complain because he begins to hammer himself into you, making up for lost time. You hold back a wail, letting it filter out in short moans with the force of every thrust.

"Thank you, oh thank you," you begin to babble, not for the sake of pleasing him but because you're feeling so good that you've lost control of all thoughts. "Thank you, sire."

Beomgyu groans as he feels you clench around him, hips losing momentum only for a moment as he bends down to pull you up flush against his chest. His hands force the neckline of your modest dress down under your tits and you're so lost in pleasure you don't spare a thought to the cruel stretch of the expensive garment. A dribble of saliva lands on your left breast before his hands grab at both, groping and massaging and leaving one shiny wet.

"You know you're my favourite, don't you?" he asks, and you nod fervently—your only response to anything he could say right now. "My perfect pussy, just right for me. Feels so good, fuck."

You start to get a little weak as your orgasm approaches, so Beomgyu wraps an arm under your arms to hold you up, and you let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder. He smiles smugly at the way your eyes look faraway and your mouth hangs agape.

"Oh fuck," you curse as he thrusts at a new angle, arms flying up to reach behind you and blindly around his neck. "Fuck, Beom!"

The chuckle that leaves his chest vibrates through you. "That's my girl, you don't try to stay prim and proper when I give it to you like the others, hm? I love that filthy mouth."

You swear you grow wetter and weaker with the use of the term "my girl', whether it's meant in its entirety or not.

"Where should I put my cum?" he asks. A finger welcomes itself into your open mouth and your lips close around it automatically. "Here?" You shake your head. "No?"

Something inside you tightens and you can't help but move your hips back against him, as though he might stop and it might just be the worst thing ever to happen.

"Oh my greedy toy," you can hear the smirk on his face in his voice. His finger leaves your mouth to press against your back, bending you forward once more. A hand grips the flesh between your neck and shoulder as he braces you against him. "I'll give you what you want."

After Blue Hours does not permit claiming or reposting of this work in any form

#txt smut #Beomgyu smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #prince beomgyu

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soulessjourney · 3 months

Text

T'ill I Go Blind

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: When Gortash reveals details about your past relationship, Astarion refuses to entertain any of it.

Warnings: OOC Astarion, angst, mentions of truama, mentions of death, jelous Astarion, Gortash, fluff, Humor, Astarion of course making a few out of pocket comments, Scared Astarion

A/N: It's basically cannon at this point that Gortash and the Durge are exes or had something going on, so enjoy my depiction of just how their first meeting after so long would be like.

Who would have thought that you would find yourself standing in Baldur’s Gate, face-to-face with Gortash, who gazes at you with surprising tenderness? "Well, isn't it my favorite assassin? It has been too long since we indulged in each other's presence," he remarks. You raise a quizzical brow as your arms fold over your chest, leaning against the protective metal.

"Ah, yes. How could I forget? You lack the memories of what we once shared. A shame, truly. Your father never was one for the ideals of... affection." You resist the urge to let your jaw drop at his words, while Wyll stifles a laugh beside you.

"I'm sorry, but you're telling me you and Tav had some sort of connection?" he asks, looking between both of you. Beside you, Karlach goes stiff, and you reach out through your connected minds, assuring her that you have no clue about the nonsense the man is spouting. Upon your words, she visibly relaxes, folding her arms and shifting to stand a step in front of you, ready to protect you from the person she once trusted if need be.

"We did, in fact, have a connection, and that connection was the reason why your friend now has no memory of who she is," Gortash states, a frown appearing on his lips. "Her father felt threatened by the idea that his perfect assassin was falling for someone, so why not punish those who fell into forbidden love." From beside you, a sudden gag sounds, and Astarion clears his throat.

"I do apologize, but that had to be the most sickening thing I've ever heard, and I don't mean the fact that her father stripped away her memories." It's hard to suppress a laugh at Astarion's words, especially since you can feel the jealousy radiating off of him. Astarion is what you'd call a cat; he thrives when affection is given on his terms, but he is quite territorial with things that belong to him. In this case, you are that thing—mind, body, and soul. You are his human, and he would rather tear the world to shreds than give you up.

Reaching back, your fingers gently brush against him, and he seizes the opportunity to interlace his fingers with yours. A sense of safety and confidence washes over you as his hand firmly holds yours. Gortash, observant of the interaction, advances toward both of you, prompting a tenseness in your body.

"I see you've found a replacement, Little Flower," he remarks. The use of that nickname freezes you, causing your body to stiffen as memories flood your mind. Flashbacks of your younger self and Gortash flow through your consciousness. Despite the rugged and worn-down appearance, Gortash possessed qualities that rendered him remarkably handsome. In the recollection, you both stood in the middle of a flower field, having sneaked off after some convincing. He delicately placed a flower in your hair, affectionately uttering the same nickname.

Gortash notices the recognition in your eyes, prompting him to smile at Astarion. "Seems she remembers that exchange very well. The kiss we shared sealed our promise to one another. Yes, you two are quite...adorable, but let her stay where she belongs. It won't be long until your little romance disappears when her memories return."

Astarion vibrates with anger, and all you can do is squeeze his hand, offering silent reassurance. Gortash attempts to provoke him in a way he knows best, wanting to witness the dissolution of the bond you share. However, Astarion surprises everyone. Instead of reacting impulsively, he closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, and regulates the tightness of his grip around your hand. He's wrestling with the urge to draw his knife and thrust it into Gortash's chest.

Your chest swells with pride at how far Astarion has come from the first encounter when he held a dagger to your throat. "I'll never let her go, not until she tells me to. And when she does, I'll do everything in my power to protect her from a distance because she doesn't deserve to revert to the life she once lived. Not when she's worked so hard to build herself a new life. Not when she's almost killed herself fighting the demons that claw at her, begging to escape."

A snort escapes Gortash as he listens to Astarion's words. "To think someone as powerful as you settled for that," he spits, redirecting his gaze toward you. "Have your fun, Little Flower, but as much as I would love to bring up the past and the memories we share, I have other matters to discuss with you," Gortash states, pacing around the room. "Your sister is stirring up trouble and making things difficult. Her newfound thirst for power after you left is creating tension in my city." You know precisely who he is referring to. In your few encounters with Orin, she made it clear that you both shared the same father.

"What Orin does is none of my concern. If she's hell-bent on trying to take something I don't even want, then let her. I don't know what kind of life I lived before this, but I don't want any part of it. I was given a second chance to finally live, and I won't be ruining that over some family drama," you shrug. You notice Karlach adopting a look of approval at your words. Seeing Gortash again is tough for her, especially now that you know you apparently had some kind of relationship before waking up on the ship.

Gortash sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and nods. "Yes, yes, I quite understand what you are saying. You're breaking free from those torturous chains, but your family matters affect the lives of those in Baldur's Gate. I don't care if you are sweeping your matters under the rug, but I want you to kill her. Take out Orin and bring me her stone, and when you do, I'll assist you in defeating the Elder Brain." Something about his words is taunting, making you question the truth of his alliance with you. Almost as if sensing your doubt, he leans against the table behind him.

"I do not wish to fool you; I don't stand for the loss of innocent lives. Orin is out of control, and the brain will wreak havoc if given the chance. If we can control the brain, we can destroy it."

Your mind races as you consider the situation. Releasing a defeated sigh, you clench your jaw, allowing your face to fall into a blank stare. "Fine, I'll kill her." The sound of your group protesting fills the room, echoing off the walls. Gortash only smiles at your words, letting his eyes lock onto yours as your friends attempt to talk some sense into you. After a few minutes, Gortash dismisses you and leaves the room.

Your companions follow behind you, attempting to get your attention before Karlach finally speaks up. "Tav, stop walking away. You know what he did to me and the hell I've lived through. Accepting his offer is a betrayal to me, so you better explain. If you don't, then I have no choice but not to trust you or to stay in the group." Her words hit you hard. She was like your sister, a reason for you to live.

"I'm playing him at his own game. We saw the power these stones had over the brain when we fought Thorm, meaning he had plans for them when he got them all to himself. Trust me, Karlach, I don't trust him either, but we need to take advantage of this. He could be the key to leading us right to the brain so we can destroy it, so I can save all of us," you whisper, looking up at your friend.

Karlach meets your eyes, searching them as if trying to detect any lies in your words. So, you open your mind to her, letting her read your intention with Gortash. Silence fills the area around your group as they wait for Karlach's response. "I trust you," she finally says, sending you a bright smile. You let out a breath of relief at her words as Astarion walks up beside you. You could feel how tense he felt, and you immediately knew something was wrong.

Things between the group had gotten tense after you entered Baldur's Gate. You felt the urge calling to you more than ever before; Astarion was only steps away from having to see Cazador again, and Karlach finally had to come face to face with the person she trusted her life with and who stabbed her in the back. Sending him a look, he nods slightly before looking away. It was a silent communication that you two would be talking when you got back to camp, and you could only hope this wouldn't end in a fight between you two.

---

Upon your arrival, you couldn't help but notice how Astarion immediately headed toward a shaded area. Jaheira spoke quietly to you about matters that needed attention in the city, but your gaze remained fixed on your lover. Jaheira fell silent before laughing quietly, drawing your attention back to her. "You two are quite fond of one another. Go to him; you've been worried about him since the walk back," she said, patting your arm soothingly. Nodding in gratitude, you walked towards Astarion.

He sat on the ground, gazing up at the sky, with rays of sunshine warming his face through the leaves. Stopping behind him, you were unsure of how to initiate the conversation between the two of you. "Star," you said, your voice carried by the slight breeze swirling around you. You sensed him tense, knowing that the forthcoming discussion would likely be tense as well.

With his back to you, he leaned his arms on his knees, shifting his gaze ahead. "So, you were the one involved with the absolute and why we're like this," he stated. Your heart dropped as you looked down. Indeed, you were. Your memories flooded back when you entered Wyrm’s Crossing, remembering who you were, who your father was, and what he wanted you to carry out.

"As angry as I want to be with you, I can't. I know what it's like to feel trapped under a command without being able to escape. I mean, look at what Cazador made me do. I want to be angry, but I just can't," he continued, and your shoulders dropped as you listened to his words. "But that's not why I'm questioning things. Not us; I could never question us. What I'm questioning is what will happen when you fully regain your memory. You and Gortash obviously have something, or rather had something. He talked to you like he was seeing his lover all over again. He looked at you like he was undressing you, ready to show our group of lovely friends that you still belong to him."

There it was—the feeling of your heart shattering in your chest as you listened to his words. He was terrified of losing you, and you had no idea how to reassure him that you're his.

Moving to stand in front of him, you drop to your knees and gently grasp his face in your hands. Opening and closing your mouth, no words escape you. Lost in his eyes—those crimson-red orbs that appear scared and broken—a part of you feels angry, angry at yourself and angry at Gortash for dredging up a past you have no memory of, a past you never want to revisit.

“I meant it when I told you that you mean a lot to me, Star,” you finally say, brushing your thumbs against his cheek. “You’re my entire world. You stayed by my side when the urge wracked my body, when I attempted to take your life that night. You didn’t judge me when it got so bad I caved and harmed an innocent person. You held me and told me that I could beat those urges. You saved me, Astarion, and I will not be leaving you.” His tears begin to pool under the pad of your thumb as you speak.

“Losing my memory was my second chance at life, and then I met you. You gave me something worth living for. Hells, all of our friends did, and I refuse to go back to that life I once lived. I don’t want to be a killer, and I don’t want to be his daughter. I want to be my own person. I want to be able to make my own decisions and control my own body and mind. So, my little Star, I won’t be going anywhere because my home is right here by your side.”

You can tell your words have moved him in some way as he is now fully sobbing. Pulling him to you, you let his head fall onto your chest as you allow him to fall apart in your arms. The fear that plagued him during your meeting with Gortash finally leaves him as he deflates in your embrace. Soon, his sobs quieten, and you both lie under the tree, his arms wrapped tightly around you, almost as if he fears you will disappear if he lets go. In that moment, a peaceful and intimate moment, three words are finally shared between you two. In that moment, you vow to destroy Cazador and show him what true power is. In that moment, the urge claws at your insides, begging to be unleashed, and soon enough, you will let it take over your very being.

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firegirl888101 · 7 months

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how would the harbingers react to a reader who's good at drawing? like, they like to draw the harbingers or other things

Good at drawing?

I'm shit at drawing so I'm not really sure what to say, that's why I didn't reply to this for awhile. But, I eventually got a couple things when my friend was sketching some stuff in front of me.

Sorry that the current Insatiable Madness chapter is taking so long, I've been studying a lot these past couple of days.

I also got another ask where it asked about Halloween. I don't really celebrate Halloween, because I never grew up with it. I've always been too shy to trick-or-treat and I didn't have many friends (and still don't) who'd want to go with me. Quite sad actually, but it's alright. I don't think I missed out on much.

Is anyone expecting me to make a Halloween special? I don't mind doing it, but I'll need inspiration as I wouldn't know where to start 💀

Actually, the more I think about it, I do have one fun idea. (Harbingers going trick-or-treating??? Halloween party if that even exists? Idk, I'll have to do some research.)

|You can take this with Yandere and without - some will probably lean towards yan though.|

So, to begin with:

Pierro wouldn't be too bothered. I feel if Y/N had a skill they were confident in, and wanted to show it, he'd let his curiousity get the better of him and check it out. But, if it's something like drawing he'll probably leave a comment then leave. Whether it's positive or negative, you be the judge. This man is like a slate slab. No personality I'm sorry 😭😭 (When I see more of his character, maybe I'll like him more?)

If you were to draw this man, he'd be humbled. A Grandpa who received his very first present from his grandchild. Would definitely frame the damn thing in his office (which originally was your parent's) he'd put it on the desk. It's his office now, don't argue for it back.

Capitano would show interest. Not too much since he's the main captain of the Fatui, but still interested. If he's bored, or deems the 'fort' (the house) safe, he'll sit down with you and watch what you're doing. Occasionally asking you if he could doodle with you - but I think that would be very rare. His main objective in his mind is guarding you when your own is low whilst you're having fun, doodling or drawing something.

Would 100% deny the picture of him at first. He'd think, that looks like me, but it can't be. Yes, it's him, you'd reassure. Eventually he does take it and folds it in his coat. After that, he'd probably leave the room in embarrassment. Since then on, he'd definitely keep all drawings you've made of him in his pocket. There's too many? Let's put it in the second pocket. That's full too? Looks like he's buying a new coat. Oh? There's room in his military coat he hasn't worn in two years? That'll do just nicely.

Dottore would be intrigued if he saw you practice anatomy - or if you drew more of a gorey scene. I think he'd be even more interested if you liked to draw the human body with extra things (such as arms, legs, eyes or even got rid of a few), and question you on your design choices and if it already exists somewhere. (He's not fooling you, he's obviously taking inspirations for a new experiment). If he didn't know, or wasn't good, he'd probably ask for tips on how to sketch ideas like yours. He reassures you it's not for any experimentation but once again, he's not fooling you at all.

If you were to draw him he'd treat it like glass. Nobody has ever given him a sketch before - bonus points if you draw him injured whilst you're angry with him. He'd treat it as if you drew him with love, and not as if you'd stab him in the heart if you ever got the chance. What do you mean he shouldn't like it this much? It's a work of art! He'd be very quick to correct the drawing if you got anything wrong. Who knows what this man has in his body at this point.

Columbina would join you in your drawing activities. Maybe add some glitter if you have any. The second you complain about cleaning up, however, she has somehow disappeared and has become very forgetful about the events upstairs. 'How curious!~' She would hum to herself with her usual smile. Is definitely the type to ask if you could draw her. Who are you to refuse? Especially when she gives you that look of daunt hope and kindness which makes you drop your pen in fear. Before you can give her an answer, you've already picked up your pencil and began to sketch her beautiful headpiece.

When Columbina receives her multiple sketches, she's overjoyed. Oh, look how you drew this part! How you drew her clothes! She's quick to kiss you on the cheek as a thank you and runs off somewhere. Huh, you feel like you've just been used.

Arlecchino will roll her eyes at first. She's seen many children in the hearth draw for her. Her initial thoughts were vague, she didn't really see much of your hobby. That was until she actually saw what you were drawing. She would stare as you worked, your pencil delicately brushing against the paper you most likely bought the other day. It soon will become a habit to watch you work, becoming a therapeutic source for her. She sometimes questions why you're drawing... certain things, but she wouldn't actually stop your creative mind from working.

Handing Arlecchino the drawing you drew of her would make her blood rise to her cheeks slightly. Sure, she's received a lot of gifts in this sense before. But from you? What an honour! She'll accept it with a soft smile she'd usually show the kids, and pat your head treating you like one. Little do you know she's trying so hard to control her cute agression response by not tearing the paper.

Pulcinella would react very similarly to Pierro. However, he'd have more experience with complimenting and encouraging 'a child' in a hobby they're having fun with. If he saw your skill, he'd probably compliment it whole-heartedly with a chuffed smile. Massaging his mustache like some aristocrat, in the 1940s... Anyway, he'd be very pleased when he watches you draw more and more. He's happy that you're spending your time doing something you like under the tense situation his coworkers (and him, but he doesn't like to admit it) have brought upon you.

I do not see you drawing this man at all. He's a short, dobby, old, looking as man. I don't see him as the type to ask either, at all. He's minding his own business in your house and plans to keep it that way until the situation is resolved.

Scaramouche really doesn't care. We've all got our own likes and dislikes, but he's not bothered about yours. Will most likely purposefully pass by you working on a piece and insult it just to get attention. He'd never actually mean it though - he just never tells you that important fact. As time progresses he'll sneak into your room just to look at more sketches or finished drawings you've done, and assess your progress from each year if you've been practicing for a long time-period.

Now, here's where things get interesting. If you were to draw him and never show it to him, said puppet finding it for himself in one of your drawers, he'd first feel angry. Why wouldn't you show him this? It's of him! ...But then he'd quickly realise it's because of the way he treated you when you were working (oops). If you actually handed it to him and let him keep it, he'd be delighted. You actually drew him? He didn't even have to manipu-- he means 'ask' you to draw him? This is a good step forward to where he wants to be in your heart.

Sandrone would be delighted to know that she's finally found a use for you in her head. She never thought that purposefully walking past you one evening would lead to her shuffling through all the sketches and designs you've done with awe. Where did you get this idea from? How can she recreate it? Would you be happier and more devoted to her if she were to make your dreams true? She digresses. Watching your creative little mind draw your ideas to life inspires her also, and makes her want to recruit you as a special exception to the 'no non-artificial beings' allowed in her workshop. Thinking of all the monstrosities you could design with her help sends pleasurable shivers up her spine.

Drawing her, however? This was rather unprecedented. Out of all the things-- no, people you could have drawn... and you decide on her? And ooh! You even drew her slave she likes to travel around on, how thoughtful, you're already expressing your adoration for her works! Trust me, don't draw her. You'll give her daydreams that will never happen.

Signora, like most of the harbingers, wouldn't care at first. She hates your house and hates your world, why in Teyvat's name would she be interested in what you're doing? That's what she used to think, until her arrogant slick eyes caught sight of what exactly you were drawing. In my opinion, there's only a couple things that would interest Signora. Drawing dresses, if you were interested in fashion designing, would definitely be the main one. Viewing your designs after you finished them would soon become a small hobby for her, and soon, she'd eventually ask you to draw her in one of your designs.

You'd say yes, of course. An excuse to draw a drop-dead gorgeous woman in one of your designs for free? No way you were going to pass this opportunity! For her hard work in modeling, you'd definitely pay back twice and give her a drawing of her in her harbinger uniform too - which I think would flatter her a bit too much.

Pantalone wouldn't care, and would never become interested. He's a very rich and successful banker, not any ordinary man. As soon as he sees you drawing somewhere in the house, he'll shrug and go the opposite way. He knows what it's like to be interrupted through a thoughtful process, and he doesn't feel like getting an earful from you if he interrupts it. What he does think about, however, is if you're making money from it. Maybe an online business. He asks, and receives a very disappointing answer. No? What do you mean no? These are good, he'd pay for a portrait! Well, if Mora was a usable currency here. Ugh, the thought of being a poor man in this world makes him disgusted.

Drawing him would result in lots of praise. He'd be very happy you used your own time to draw him. He didn't even have to pay for it, it was gift! You even said so yourself. Immediately taken from your hands and framed somewhere. You can't seem to find the drawing though... Pantalone insists it's still in the house, but no matter where you look you just can't find it! Oh well, it's probably better you didn't know where it went. (You would have never been able to find it, he hid the location so well after all.) Pantalone told you he'd give something back to you as a thank you, but you're not holding him to his word.

Tartaglia would be interested the second he sees you doing something he hasn't seen you do before. That looks interesting, let him give drawing a try! He'd boast how his siblings love his drawings he creates, but you knew he was lying to set a cheery mood. Your understanding was backed when you actually saw his 'Amazing Drawing'... It was embarrassing to say the least. He would heed all your little tips and eventually get good at drawing from your guidance! I can see him as the type to use these skills later for his siblings, and as the type to continue drawing even if you begin to get bored of it... He's skilled with his fingers after all-- okay I'm sorry I'm done.

Drawing him can go one in two ways. I see him as someone who will whine about being drawn. He'll say: 'Have you drawn me yet?' in one of the most annoying voices he cna muster. He knows and understands you find it annoying when he asks you to draw him, so he's found a loophole. Just keep asking questions related to it until you get the hint! ...You got the hint weeks ago, but you're refusing to do it. Well, you're refusing to show him your drawings you've already finished and hid out of sight. Showing him these drawings would make him really happy! Would fold his favourite and carry it around with him everywhere like some of the other harbingers. His next commission he's planned to ask you is of a drawing of Capitano. You eagerly declined, not wishing to impose on the Captain's privacy.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #fatui harbingers #yandere harbingers #genshin #pierro #capitano #il dottore #columbina #arlecchino #pulcinella #scaramouche #sandrone #la signora #pantalone #tartaglia #childe #fatui #genshin fatui

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

Text

Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

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urcatslitterbox · 10 months

Note

You should do a never have I ever with colby and they are home alone and get bored so they decide to drink and play it and one thing leads to another where they end up sleeping with each other and confessing their love

Never have I ever…

Colby brock x fem!reader smut

Cw: smut, daddy kink, p n v, unprotected sex (be safe!), (breeding???), let me know if I missed anything!

A/n: omg I’m so sorry this took literal years to come out. This is my first time writing something like this so I’m sorry if it sucks. Also I began writing this before sam and Katrina broke up so that’s why they are together in this.

“God I’m so bored” Colby groaned throwing himself onto the couch opposite of where I was sitting.

Sam and Katrina had gone out on a date night, leaving the house to Colby and me for the night. I was quite bored myself so I offered up a suggestion. “We could play a game?” he thought for a moment he decided it was a good idea. “Alright, like what?” he asked, “anything that involves drinking, I've had a looong week” I joked. Colby got off the couch heading into the kitchen, there was a rattling before he returned to the living room. In his hands were two wine glasses and a bottle of red. He sat on the rug of the living room and patted the floor telling me to join him. I sat down, still opposite him and he handed me a glass. “Do you have a game or are we just going to drink on the floor?” I teased. Colby smiled, filling my glass. “We're gonna play never have I ever, but instead of putting down a finger we take a drink” he said. “Ok, I'll start,” I said, thinking of what to say. “Ok never have I ever snuck out,” I said. Colby’s eyes widened slightly, “what!? You're kidding, you've never snuck out?” he asked in disbelief. I smiled knowing he would have to drink, “nope, I was a good kid” I stated. “Come on now drink up brock” I smirked, he rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his wine. “Ok, my turn, never have I ever..” he trailed off thinking of how he could get me to drink. “Called my friend to fake an emergency so I could get out of a bad date” he said with a cocky look on his face. “That's not fair you're targeting me!” Colby just laughed, signalling me to take a drink.

As the night went on Colby and I got progressively tipsier. “Ok ok I have one, never have I ever worn handcuffs for any reason” I grinned knowing for a fact that Colby has been in handcuffs, perhaps more than once. He narrowed his eyes at me before finishing off what was left in his glass. As he poured himself more he went his turn. “Since we’re playing that game, never have I ever given a lap dance” he said calmly. I felt my face flush as I took a sip from my glass. Colby’s eyebrows raised for a moment before dropping. “Never have I ever done it in a pool” I said, understanding what this had turned into. He drank from his glass before leaning closer to me. “ I find that hard to believe y/n/n” he said quietly. I returned the gesture, leaning in as well, not wanting to seem intimidated by our close proximity. “Just because you can't keep it in your pants and have to have sex everywhere doesn't mean everyone else does too” I teased. Colby scoffed, “ok, never have I ever masturbated when people are home” he said. I felt my face get hot, I didn't think anyone was home when I did, but I was wrong. “Well, never have I ever listened in on someone you creep” I fought. He just smirked, “it's hard not to when you make those pretty sounds” he whispered, staring into my eyes. My cheeks were on fire at this point, I looked away to avoid his intense gaze. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss you so badly..” I heard him say. I looked back at him our faces mere centimetres apart. I leaned closer closing the gap between us in a soft kiss. Colby held my head in place as he deepened the once-soft kiss turning it into something hotter.

We made out sloppily, the wine and game long forgotten. Colby began to lean me back onto the rug, moving his lips to my neck. He sucked deep bruises from my neck to my collar before kissing back up to my ear. My breath got deeper as my heart raced. Truth be told I've liked Colby for some time now and the fact that he was on top of me made my core heat up. I let out soft whimpers as I tugged on his shirt wanting it off. He pulled away ripping his shirt off of him before heading towards mine. He looked to confirm that I was ok with this, I nodded wanting to feel him already. He practically tore it off of me then my pants followed, adding to the mess of clothes in the room. Colby sat back admiring me. I began to feel self conscious and tried to hide my body. “Don’t hide yourself from me, you’re so beautiful”, he whispered as he grabbed my arms that were shielding my body. He kissed me passionately and his lips trailed down to my breast. He pulled my nipple into his mouth sucking harshly. I moaned at the feeling as he did the same to the other one. “God baby I’m so hard for you..I need to be inside you, I can’t wait any longer.” He groaned lining the head of his cock up with entrance. He pushed in slowly allowing me to adjust to his length. I hissed at the stretch as he bottomed out. “Fuuuck” he breathed into my ear. “Colby.. please..” I whined. “What baby? Use your words” he teased. “Please fuck me” I said looking into his eyes. Somehow his eyes got even darker at my words before he spoke. “Don’t have to ask me twice princess” he growled before thrusting hard into me. I moaned loudly as he rocked his hips into mine aggressively. I clawed at his muscular back as I started to loose grip on reality. He was so big and deep I could barely take it. “Oh god Colby yes!” I moaned as he pounded into me even harder. “Fuck yeah take it baby…god you’re so tight gonna make me cum” he groaned. “Want daddy to cum inside your pretty pussy? Make you mine?” He growled, speeding up. I moaned in response, my walls clenching around him as I grew closer to cumming. “Yes daddy please! G- gonna cum daddy so close!” I panted. “Me too baby it’s alright, let go cum on daddy cock” he grunted burying his face in my neck. I all but screamed his name as I came undone around his cock. He thrusted a few more times before I felt his warm cum fill me. He pulled out and held me close to him, both of us panting as we came down from our highs.

I closed my eyes as we laid there cuddled together on the carpet. “Y/n” he breathed into my neck. “Mhm” I mumbled, too tired to form a coherent sentence. “I I really like you. I have for a long time now” he confessed. At that my eyes snapped open. “Colby-“ I tried but he interrupted me. “I know you probably don’t feel the same and this was a one time thing bu-“ I cut him off smashing my lips onto his, kissing him with everything I had. All the pent up feelings I had towards him pouring out through the kiss. When we pulled away he looked at me confused , his lips red and swollen. “Colby, I like you too moron” I giggled. His expression went from confused to sheer love in a matter of seconds. “Good because now that I’ve had a taste I’m not letting you go” he promised, kissing me again.

#4ppl3ju1c #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader

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bingbongsupremacy · 5 months

Text

My Little Secret

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, use of Y/N

Summary: You're scared to tell Eddie you're pregnant.

*Not Proof Read*

Note: Eddie and reader are the same age. Pretend he wasn't held back. Whole thing with Chrissy hasn't happened. Doesn't specify gender.

Stranger Things Masterlist

*****

Well this is perfect.

I stare down at the little while bar in my hands. Two thin likes stare back, mocking my mixed emotions.

What the fuck am I going to do? I shouldn't have let things go so far at Steve's party. I knew the fucking risk. How could this happen? I didn't think this would happen. What am I going to do?

What am I going to tell Eddie?

He doesn't want a kid...not now anyway. Fuck, this messes up everything. We can't afford a baby. How are we going to take care of it?

I begin to pace in the cramped bathroom. With every moment that passes, the room begins to feel more and more cramped, claustrophobic.

A thumping sound bounces off the walls from outside. Eddie's home.

Eddie's van shuts off with one last whine, the door shutting shortly after. I hear the keys jingle as he tries to open the front door of his trailer. " Babe? Ya here? "

I don't respond. I quickly grab the box the pregnancy came in and hide it at the bottom of the garbage can. I need to figure something out. I can't tell Eddie.

A knock breaks me out of my thoughts. I turn on the water, quickly washing my hands, hoping to relieve some of the nerves.

" Y/N? Why didn't you answer, babe. I thought you were still at work or something. " Eddie asks. " You feelin' okay? "

I swing open the door, pulling a smile onto my face. " Yeah, perfect. Just...lost in thought. " I push past Eddie, doing my best to act normal.

I'll figure this out. I have to.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, not completely believing me. " Okay...Do you want to watch a movie? I can order a pizza. " He offers, trailing after me.

I walk around the counter, picking my worn jacket and backpack up. " I actually, have to head out. My mom um needs help with the yard. " I lie.

A look of confusion flashes on Eddie's face. " Oh, okay...maybe another time? "

I nod stiffly. " Of course, Eds. You know how much I love our movie nights. "

I head towards the door.

" Do you want a ride? It's getting a little cold out. " Eddie offers, pulling on his jacket.

I shake my head. " I'm fine. A little fresh air never hurt anyone. " I attempt to joke.

I just need to get out of here. I feel like I'm suffocating.

Eddie looks unsure. " Are you sure? I really don't mind driving you. I don't want you to get hurt. "

" Eddie, I'm fine. " I insist. " It's only a few blocks away. Nothing is going to happen to me. "

Eddie follows me to the door. " Okay, okay. Just...call me when you get home, yeah? Just so I feel better. "

" Of course. " I pat his arm instead of our usual goodbye kiss. I don't hesitate to step outside. The chilly wind sends a shiver through my body, but I quickly ignore it. I need some time to think. I can't do that if Eddie's talking to me the entire ride home. Plus he'll see my mom's not home.

I feel Eddie's gaze follow me down the street, obviously worried about me. As soon as I turn the corner I feel a sigh of relief escape my lips.

I will be okay. I have to be.

______

I've been avoiding Eddie. I feel like he knows. Like he can read me. He hasn't said anything, but the more I'm with him the more tempted I am to tell him. I'm scared. I don't know how to do this. I haven't even told my mom.

Fuck, she'd kill me. She's warned me about this ever since I started dating Eddie years ago. Why didn't I listen?

All it takes is one time, she'd insist. One time.

She'd never let me forget this. I can already see the look of disappointment on her face. She already doesn't like Eddie. Knowing he's the father would definitely make things worse.

" Okay, what's going on with you. "

Eddie's voice asks sternly as he slides into an empty chair next to me.

The library is empty except for the older librarian shelving books in the corner. Everyone's gone home for the day, leaving the room absolutely quiet.

I raise my eyes to meet Eddie's concerned ones. " What? " I ask in surprise, not expecting him to be here. I thought he had a meeting right now.

" Why have you been avoiding me? " He asks. Desperation peaks through his steady voice. " What did I do? " He reaches to grab my pencil clad hand.

I tense slightly. " Nothing. You didn't do anything, Eddie. " I mutter, looking down at my science home work.

" Then why won't you look at me? You've blown me off all week, what's going on? Please, just tell me what I did and how I can fix it. I miss you. " His tone is genuine. Worry is laced through his features.

I clench my jaw, sadness clustering in my throat. " Eddie, I swear, you didn't do anything wrong. I've just been...busy. I have a lot of tests coming up. " Not a lie. The amount of tests this week on top of the news of the baby has been stressing me out. I hardly have time to sleep, I spend most of my time studying and stressing over what to do.

Eddie scans my face for a sign of a lie. " Look, I don't think I believe that's all. When you're ready to talk about it, you know where to find me. " Eddie pulls his hand away from mine, the warmth of his skin quickly being replaced by the the cold air. He stands up, ready to leave.

" Eddie..." I start, unsure what to say.

Eddie turns back to me, hope in his eyes. He waits for me to say something.

I don't.

" I'm sorry. " I whisper.

Eddie nods, turning back around. " I'm sorry too. For whatever I did. " With that he leaves. His steady footsteps disappear into the hallway. His expression burns into my mind. Sadness, slight frustration.

I didn't mean to make him feel this way. I just don't know what to do.

With a sigh I glance down at my stomach. I haven't begun to show yet, thankfully. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I start. I can only wear baggy clothing for so long. It's getting harder and harder to hide the morning sickness. With only one bathroom, my mom's bound to find out sometime.

I'm so scared.

______

A loud knock pulls me from the laundry. I leave my spot on the couch. Rain pounds on the front glass windows, blocking my view from outside.

Who the hell would be out here in weather like this?

I open the door, fully ready to tell the person to fuck off.

I'm met with the sight of a drenched Eddie. His eyebrows twisted in anger and frustration. He's soaked from head to door, water pooling at the bottom of his sneakers. In his hand is a familiar pink box, bold lettering smudged from the water.

The test.

" I can explain- " I begin, my heart pounding in fear.

He found it.

" Why the hell didn't you tell me. " Eddie cuts me off, his fist tightly around the now squished box. Water's soaked through the thin cardboard, turning it to near mush. He pushes past me, into the quiet house.

" Eddie...I...I'm so sorry. " Tears sting the back of my eyes. " I...I don't know what to say. "

Eddie's anger seems to twist into frustration. " Why didn't you tell me, y/n. " He repeats.

" I was scared. " I close the door, leaning against it for support. All the harbored stress and fear comes barreling out. My fluctuating hormones feed the fire, making everything fucking worse. " How did you find it? "

I know how he found it. I should've hid it fucking better.

" I was taking out the trash when I heard a rattle. I figured you might have dropped something in it and I pulled it out. That's beside the point, Y/N. You kept this from me. When were you planning of fucking telling me? " Eddie's voice is still strong with frustration as he paces around the hall.

" I was going to- " I begin.

" When?! You don't talk to me anymore, when the fuck were you going to tell me? I shouldn't have to find out like this. "

He's right. I should have told him.

Eddie's eyes snap towards me. His expression seems to soften when he realizes I'm crying. " Fuck. " He breathes out, putting his fingers tightly on the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. " I'm sorry. " He says slightly calmer. " I shouldn't have yelled at you. Fuck, I'm a horrible person. Who the fuck screams at their pregnant partner? " He clenches his jaw in frustration.

" No. " I shake my head, trying to push past my emotions. " You're not at fault here. I should've told you. You deserved to know. " I take a breath. " I was a coward. Eddie...I was scared of what would happen. To us, to the baby...with my mom. I was scared you wouldn't want the baby....wouldn't want me. "

Eddie's eyes open to look at me. " You were scared of me? Of us? Y/N, what did you think I was going to do? I love you, fuck you're the first person I've ever loved this much. " He admits. He takes a step towards me. Dripping strands of hair frame the sides of his face. " You couldn't do anything to make me stop loving you. I will always be there for you, no matter what. You didn't get pregnant alone, Y/N. In case you forgot, it takes two to make a baby. I'm as responsible for the baby as you are. You didn't need to keep this to yourself. "

I don't say anything.

He's right. Deep down I knew he'd still be there for me. I guess I was just afraid of what would happen if I wasn't right.

Eddie grabs my hand. " I love you and I love this baby. Nothing will ever stop that. I hate that you felt alone this entire time. That you where scared of what I would do. I never wanted you to feel like that. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. "

I hug him tightly, not caring about the water soaking in my pj's. " I'm sorry for not telling you. I...I shouldn't have doubted you. "

Eddie hugs me back. " We need to talk about this. "

" Yeah. " I nod, pulling my head away from his warm chest. " We do. "

--------

Eddie finishes drying the ends of his curly hair before speaking. " What should we do. "

" I have no idea. " I sigh. " My mom's going to kill me. " I begin to feel tears well in the back of my eyes. " She'll throw me out, I fucking know it. "

Eddie pulls me into his side. " Hey, hey. It's going to be okay. No matter what, I'll be right by your side when she finds out. We'll tell her together. You can...you can live with me. "

I shake my head. " I can't do that, Eddie. I can't do that to Wayne. He already sleeps on the couch. I don't want him to have to deal with a crying baby at all hours of the night. That's not fair to him. "

" Then we'll find a place to be together. I'm not letting you go homeless, Y/N. I'll-I'll get another job. The diner on Corner street is hiring. I can find a place for us before the baby...and Mrs. Thomas is selling her daughters' old crib, I'm sure she'll sell it to us for a decent price! I can sell my guitar and-"

" Eddie...no. " I put my hand on his arm. " That guitar means everything to you. You can't sell it. Plus, we're still in school. How the hell are you going to manage 2 jobs and school? "

Eddie's expression is serious. " YOU mean everything to me. This baby....it means everything to me. I'll do whatever I have to so you and this baby have a safe place to live. I can get my GED. We'll be okay. " Eddie's thumb traces circles on my thigh, an attempt to calm me down.

I know the argument is useless. Once he makes up his mind, it's set. " Don't do anything yet. We don't know what's going to happen. Let's just take this one day at a time. "

Eddie nods. " When are you going to tell your mom? "

" Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow. " She's going to find out some day, and I'd rather it be from me.

Tomorrow it is.

#stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #fanfic writing #yn #x yn #x y/n #x you #reader #x reader

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willixmsonswife · 10 months

Text

blind date/leah williamson

*leah williamson x fem!reader *what happens if you are on a blind date and stood up by the person you were supposed to meet but a beautiful blonde comes to you rescue? *fluff ig? *1.3k words (1.7k with the bonus) .................................

My first blind date. I don't think I've ever been this nervous. Why did Beth even set me up? I didn't need it. I mean, yeah, I'm not dating anyone at the moment and I'm not good at flirting but did she have to make it that obvious and set me up with someone? I never met that girl and Beth didn't even want to tell me her name. How was I supposed to know who she was?

I sighed before I turned around on my bed, almost falling out of it. My hand reached for my phone, which was laying on the nightstand. In my stress, I dialed the first number that came to my mind. "Hello?" I almost threw my phone across the room. That was not my best friend. "Hello? Is someone there?" I had to answer now, right? "Hi. Eh it's y/n. We met like 2 weeks ago, on that event. I was there with Beth and Viv." I mentally facepalmed myself for calling HER out of all people. The women I've had a crush on for a year now, captain of the Lionesses, Leah Williamson. "Oh yeah y/n, I remember. What's up?" Was that my mind making things up or did her tone change when I said my name? It was probably nothing. "Actually I wanted to Beth. I must've dialed the wrong number sorry for disturbing you." I was about to hang up when I heard her say something. "No no, don't worry you didn't disturb me at all. I was pretty bored actually."

"Oh, okay." My response was followed by an awkward silence. "So what are you up to this evening?" Should I tell her about the blind date? Would she even be bothered to know about it? "I'm actually going on a date."

"Oh you're dating someone? I didn't know that."

"Surprised? Don't you think that people ask me out?" I chuckled as Leah searched for a plausible answer.

"Eh- I- No, I do. It's just-"

"Don't worry, it's just a stupid blind date Beth set me up for. Apparently I'm not capable of finding the 'true love' myself." That made Leah laugh and I couldn't help but join in. Her laugh was really infectious, I had to admit that. "Where does your mysterious date take you, if I'm allowed to know?"

"We're going to the new restaurant in town."

"Oh the Italian one? I only heard good things about it but you'll have to tell me if they're true once you come back."

"I will do that. Alright, I'm gonna have to hang up now. I have to get ready if I wanna be there at 9."

"Well have fun then. It was nice talking to you, maybe we could meet up in the near future?"

"Yeah I would love that. I'll let you know when I'm free. Bye Leah."

"Bye y/n."

That definitely went better than expected but now I really had to get going. I stood up and walked over to my closet. I picked a nice navy blue dress that I hadn't worn in a while and matching high heels. my makeup was done 20 minutes later and my hair only took 15. With enough time to spare, I decided to drive to the restaurant and wait for her there.

.................................

"Hi, I have a reservation at 9 under the name y/l/n."

"Ah yes. Please follow me."

I followed the nice women to our table and sat down. "Would you like to order something to drink while you wait?"

"Yes, just a water please."

And with that she left. I looked around the restaurant and tried to calm my nerves by concentrating on the decoration, the color of the walls, literally anything. I fidgeted with the rings on my fingers while I watched the door carefully as if I could miss her walking in. The waitress came back with my water but I just took one sip before placing it in front of me. The minutes passing felt like hours and I got more and more nervous. Multiple people walked in but they all sat at different tables. Every time I heard the door open, I looked up and hoped that it would be her but it never was. After a while, I looked on my phone and saw that it was already 9:45 pm. She wasn't coming. I felt the entire hope just disappearing with that realization. I got ditched by a person I didn't even know. I did my hair and makeup for nothing. I was excited and stressed for absolutely no reason. Disappointed by how the evening turned out, I leaned down to pick up my purse. That was when I heard a voice. "Sorry that I'm so late. The traffic was awful." I looked up to see the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Wait, I knew those eyes. And that blonde hair. And that voice. "Leah? What the hell are you doing here?" For a second I completely forgot my crush on her and stared at her like she was some alien from outer space. "I'm here to save your night."

"Elaborate please." I leaned back in my chair while she sat down on the one in front of me. "Well your date didn't come, did she?" I shook my head and another wave of disappointment hit me. "Definitely her loss. But anyway, I'm here now. I can't just let you sit at this table, all alone, that would be mean."

"You know when you said 'near future', I thought you meant next week or something but not tonight." She chuckled and I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I wasn't planning this either trust me. But let's see where the night brings us, shall we?"

"Alright, fine with me."

.................................

The evening was simply amazing. Leah and I talked about everything and I felt like I was on cloud nine. The food was delicious and the three hours we spent together felt like 10 minutes. She offered to pay but I didn't accept. Instead I paid for both of our meals. As we made our way out of the restaurant, our hands brushed against each other and little fireworks erupted in my whole body. We walked side by side in a comfortable silence until we reached my car. "So this is it, right?" I turned around and looked straight in Leah's eyes. Big mistake. I could feel my cheeks turning crimson red and Leah trying to hide her cheeky smile was just a confirmation that I was blushing. "I guess so." She took a deep breath. "y/n, I really really liked talking to you and all of this felt so, so-" She searched for the perfect word but I already knew it. "Natural?"

"Exactly. That's why I would love to take you out sometime in the near future. And this time I mean next week and not tomorrow night." A big smile made its way onto my face. "I would love that."

"But how about I make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?"

"You paid, so obviously I'm going to give you something back."

"Leah I really don't want your money, I-"

"Oh don't worry, I wasn't talking about money."

Before I could say something, she leaned towards me and my brain just turned off. I felt her soft lips on mine and I instantly knew that it was going to be favorite feeling of all time. I kissed her back and arms made their way around her neck. We only parted when air became a problem but my arms stayed exactly where they were. As soon as we locked eyes and I couldn't help but notice the sparkle in hers. "That was way better than any amount of money."

"I hope so cause I was planning on doing it again." We both smiled at each other and I was sure that this evening couldn't have been any better.

.................................

Bonus:

"Leah are you sure that they're gonna like me?" I anxiously looked at her and she took my hands in hers. "Princess, they're going to like you just as much as I do. I have no idea how they couldn't." She squeezed my hands reassuringly and I felt a part of the nervousness leaving my body. "Alright if you say so. Then let's go." I put a smile on my face and followed Leah into the locker room. She knocked and several women answered. "Come in!" She turned to me one last time and I just nodded, not sure if I could form actual words right now. She opened the door and we stepped inside. "Hi girls, I already told you that I wanted you to meet someone very special to me. This is y/n. My girlfriend." As soon as those words left her mouth I could feel every pair of eyes on me. "Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you." Beth walked to me and engulfed me into a big hug. "Finally! I thought you'd never show yourself here, god." I laughed and hugged her back. After that, I answered a lot of questions from everyone in the room. I also got into a nice conversation with Jen and Katie. We even agreed to meet each other for lunch the next week. All of the stress that I felt before this meeting was totally unnecessary. Everyone was incredibly welcoming and they were all so nice to talk to!

After an hour or so, Leah and I left. We still had to drive home, make dinner and watch the movie she promised me earlier that day. I intertwined our fingers as we walked to the car and started talking about her teammates nonstop until we got to her car. "You were so right, I shouldn't have worried about this. Your teammates are way nicer than you're always saying."

"Oh just wait until you get to know them a bit better. You're gonna be pranked by Katie, Lia is going to spam you with messages and-"

"I absolutely don't care. I love them."

"Well I only hope that you don't love them more than me." She grinned and I couldn't help but tease her a little bit. "Ah I don't know about that. Let's see, shall we?" I got a playful slap on my shoulder in response. "I'm joking babe. I'll always love you more, more than anyone actually."

"I love you too darling."

.................................

this is my first fic on tumblr so I'd be happy about some opinions :) also, i'm taking requests if you have some

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thedeviltohisangel · 18 days

Text

All The Things I Did (Interlude): The One Thing I've Been Wanting

a/n: wow oh wow i think you guys are going to love this one. another mini novel featuring all the emotions and filth you could ever ask for. john and cass have their formal wedding in south carolina that he always promised her they would. a few little easter eggs in there i hope you guys want to scream at me about. hope you all enjoy, happy reading and love you endlessly!

warning: smut

In May 1946, almost one year to the day that John Egan hung an American flag in the middle of Germany, he was sat in a plush hotel room in Charleston, South Carolina looking at a photo of himself in a smattering of local newspapers and even The New York Times. Locally it was the front page, nationally a column right in the economics section. The headlines ranged from proclamations of a fairytale come true to rumors on how the match would affect the valuation of the Cooper empire.

He liked the picture they had all chosen though. It was from a photocall Mrs. Cooper had insisted they do just last week. Cass had worn a beautiful forest green skirt and white silk blouse, her smile perfectly measured across her face. There had been a bit of commotion over what John should wear. He wasn’t set to pin on Lieutenant Colonel until June and the communications team had proposed stalling the wedding until his new rank could be proudly displayed in the photographs. Might I politely remind you he is already my husband. If you make me wait one second longer to appease people with this party you will not enjoy the sight was how Cass chose to handle it. In this setting, one completely new and foreign to the boy from Manitowoc, he was entirely reliant on her to guide him.

In the final image, she was looking at the camera but he was looking at her. It was fitting. He was merely a planet orbiting around her sun. He looked stricken by her beauty and nothing could have been closer to the truth.

“Come in,” he called at the knock on the door. He folded the paper and tossed it onto the coffee table.

“You about ready to get out there? Don’t want Spook thinking you ran away.” Gale clicked the door closed and stood watching his friend. “You’re nervous.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“I don’t know why. I’ve been married to her for almost three years. Today is just a societal formality.” Marrying in secret in London was not how women like Cass were supposed to carry themselves, according to her mother. If no one was there to see it then they wouldn’t believe it. “Just…what if something changes?”

“What if something changes? Bucky, you two are still going to be the same people tonight as you were this morning. You’re still going to love the wits out of that girl just like she loves the wits out of you.” John stood and started to pace around the room.

“I know that. I know how I feel and how she feels won’t change but it’s now so formal. And there’s an audience and my wedding is in The Times, Buck, the goddamn Times!”

“The photo did look wonderful,” Gale pointed out as he nodded towards the papers on the table. “Your wife doesn’t need all this if you don’t want it, John. I am pretty certain that girl would run away with you to a farm out West if you asked her to.”

“No,” he shook his head, “all of this is good to be sure she is always provided for. When we have kids, they won’t want for anything.” Wealth like this was almost unmoveable during the Depression. John had been in college for the worst of it. Had seen the toll it took on his family and the people around them. Cass and he could make sure their kids never had to worry about that.

“When and not if, huh?”

“Buck, you of all people should know we aren’t exactly celibate.” Gale didn’t need the reminder. All too often he had found himself pleading for a moment of respite with the two of them. It didn’t matter when or where, he would run out of fingers and toes trying to count the sanctified places those two had breached. “She’s going to be the best mother.”

“And you’re going to be the best father.” John and Cass had spent the past year filling in all the blanks their time apart had forced upon them. They had gone to Wyoming for Gale and Marge’s wedding and not a single incident had occurred. It was as if John had never gotten on a plane to avenge Gale that day. They were so in love they talked about having a baby in nine months, talked about the perfect house to raise them in. Talked about names and nursery colors.

But then they had gone to visit his family in Wisconsin. And something had snapped. All the anger they had hidden from each other in the name of surviving the cold German winter had bubbled to the surface viciously. All the anger he had harbored towards her for putting herself in danger would not lay dormant any longer. Anger that every night when he closed his eyes he had prayed to keep his wife safe, that John could take any pain as long as she was spared, and she had negated it all without a thought. Anger that she had wasted almost two years of her life running herself ragged to maintain their relationship and he had been able to do nothing in return. Anger that no matter the horrors he had inflicted upon people, the horrors of Stalag Luft that kept him up at night, the horrors of not knowing who you were looking at in the mirror, that she didn’t find someone better.

“Buck, I’m sorry you weren’t there the first time Cass and I did this. But I am happy you’re here for this one. I couldn’t ask for a better best man.” John pulled him into a hug, clapping his back a few times.

“I only agreed to see you cry when you get a glimpse of her.”

“Yeah? You’ve seen her?” She had put him under strict orders that he was not to see her the morning of their wedding. Had even made John sleep by himself. He was missing her desperately at this point.

“She said the dress was a family heirloom. You didn’t manage to sneak out a parachute?” John blushed and looked at his feet.

“You’ll make fun of me if I tell you.” He had. They had just agreed to save it for a more special occasion.

“Not on your wedding day.”

“Cass had the idea that it might make a nice christening gown one day.” Wait until Marge hears how John Egan has gone all domestic on us Gale thought with a smile. “Did she get the gift I left for her?” It was a silver locket, the date and a note that simply said I love you and his name on the back, a photo of the two of them in Wyoming neatly placed inside.

“It’s her something new,” Gale answered. Her dress was something old, her mother’s diamond headband something borrowed and she had taken the time to stitch her favorite line from Blue Skies inside her skirt in blue thread. Gale cleared his throat. “She told me to pass along that you would get your gift from her…tonight.” All the girls had giggled furiously when Cass had asked him to pass along the message. There couldn’t have been a better man for the job.

“I think her asking you to tell me that is a gift all in itself, Buck.”

----

Cass was sat in front of the vanity mirror, admiring how her new necklace looked with a smile. She had already married John, had been through more life with him than any other couple she knew, but the prospect of the day still had butterflies in her stomach. It was the kind of day that flitted across her dreams as she had grown up. Wondering what kind of dress she would wear. What the ring on her hand would look like. Who would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Never before would she have pictured a man like John Egan but now not a day went by where she didn’t think of him and was waiting for both of them at the end of that aisle.

“Ma’am, all the guest have been seated and Major Egan is making his way to the altar in-”

“I’d like to see him.” Maybe that was what she needed to calm her nerves. Some needed whiskey or cigarettes but she just needed John. “He doesn’t need to see me, I just need to see him.”

And that was how, on his way to walk down the aisle, he was dragged into a room and told to sit patiently while the woman in charge of ensuring this entire wedding went off without a hitch, tied black fabric over his eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” he asked once his vision was completely obscured.

“Yes. Mrs. Egan requested it.” Gale sighed as the woman used Cass’ new last name. It always opened the door to something unscrupulous.

“Mrs. Egan,” John repeated with a wicked grin. “Mrs. Cassandra Ann Egan. My wife.” He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had asked Cass to write her new name for him just so he could relish in how it looked. How naturally her wrist and fingers moved to draft the letters. It was spectacularly wonderful and he was addicted.

“Gale? Is he successfully blinded yet?” Cass was getting impatient on the other side of the bedroom door. She could hear her husband and she could feel him. It was like torture not being able to see him or touch him.

“Spook?” John got up and turned in the direction of her voice, his shins colliding with a coffee table almost instantly. “Motherfucker!”

“I’m giving you two…” Gale ran through the numbers in his head. He had seen the feral acts the two of them were capable of committing in less than five minutes. Anything more than thirty seconds seemed like they would be consummating a marriage that hadn’t happened yet. “Forget it. You two wouldn’t listen to me anyways. Just remember your parents are right outside!” Gale escorted the planner out and shut the door behind him, a stillness settling over the suite.

“Cass, baby, they’re gone. Can I take this-”

“Absolutely not!” Her voice was no longer muffled as she opened the door and took in the sight of him. Her beautiful, handsome man. Hers and hers alone. The man she had fought for and lived for and loved every day no matter how treacherous. “We have done absolutely nothing the traditional way. Let me have this, please?” John never was too good at denying her anything.

“Fine, then let me have a kiss at least.” Cass gathered her skirt with a small giggle as he stood there awaiting her with his arms open. She pecked him quickly and he leaned forward in a chase for more. “I’m dying, Cass. You didn’t let me see you after dinner last night and now you’re right here in front of me and I can just tell you look heaven sent and now you want to tease me?”

“I’m just so happy right now, Johnny.” Now that name only fell from her lips when the emotions in her chest were too much to even say his name. Whether she was sad or angry or blinded by happiness. He had gotten so used to hearing John that anything different locked him in on a dime.

“I’m happy, too. Get to marry you all over again.” He felt a little better when her hands rested on his chest, his wrapping around her waist and pulling her as close as he could. His palms could feel lace until her hips and then silk. Maybe a bow at the top of her skirt. “I love you, Cass. Making things grandly official today won’t change anything about us. We’ll still sing as loud as we can in the car and share ice cream on the beach and count stars when we can’t fall asleep.” Her soul warmed when he said the exact words she had needed to hear, not knowing how John had ached with the need to say them.

“Those sound like the vows you should be saving for later.”

“I can think of a thousand ways to vow to love you forever, don’t you worry.” She indulged him in a proper kiss then, careful not to mess his perfectly coiffed curls and John restraining himself from tearing at the buttons going up her spine. Everything felt heightened, John unable to anticipate her next move with the fabric covering his eyes.

“What did I do to deserve you?” she asked softly as she knocked her nose against his. “You are so beautiful, inside and out, and intellectual and selfless and meet all my weaknesses with strength...”

“Sounds like a soulmate,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to do forever with you.”

“We deserve it, my love.”

----

John held his breath as he waited at the altar, all eyes on him as everyone waited for the orchestra to begin playing as a signal of Cass’ arrival. He fiddled with the front of his jacket, ensuring it was straight and smooth, smiling when he caught Olivia and Jill giggling at him from their spots across from him.

“Your sister is trying to kill me with anticipation,” he whisper-yelled.

“She’ll make it worth your time, Major,” Olivia teased. Buck clapped John on the shoulders just as the first notes of the Bridal Chorus began to sing through the grove of Spanish Moss trees.

“Here we go,” Gale said lovingly. Everyone stood and John breathed deeply as Cass’ niece, Jessie, slowly walked down the aisle with a shy grin, tossing rose petals as she did. Her brother Sammy was next to her, two silver rings on a plush pillow in his grip. John squatted down to be at their level as they approached.

“Thank you, princess. You look so pretty.” Jessie threw her arms around him as best she could.

“Thank you, Uncle John.” She ran off to take her seat by her father just as she’d been instructed to at the rehearsal.

“Sir.” Sammy summoned all seven years of stature he had in him to stand at attention.

“At ease, Sammy,” John chuckled. The young boy had fancied himself a future soldier. Had been amazed when he found out John was a real pilot just like in his comic books. “My best man, Major Cleven, is going to take those rings and keep them very safe.” Gale took them gently and locked them into his breast pocket.

“Good work, Sammy.” Buck saluted him with a smile and the little boy was off in the same direction as his sister. John stood to his full height and squared his shoulders, his eyes sharpening their focus on the ornate wooden doors that hid his love from his sight.

And when they opened.

And when she lifted her veiled face to look at him, finally.

And when their eyes met and their smiles matched and the tears welled in his eyes…

Everything felt right in the world.

Cass kept her eyes on him as she held her fathers arm down the aisle. She had to slip her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from giggling with glee at the sight of John waiting for her. As she got closer, she could see the glassiness in his eyes. He was always so strong. Her stability in this world. The man who had her back through anything with no questions asked. The one person in the universe that loved her unconditionally and with no strings attached and in the exact way that she needed to be loved.

“Do you give this woman to be married to this man?” John was itching to lift her veil and kiss her senseless now that she was this close to him.

“I do,” her father spoke with pride.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered as he pulled her into a hug.

And then finally it was just the two of them.

And then finally he was able to hold her hand and help her up the final step to stand across from him.

And then finally his shaking fingers found the lace trim of her veil and he finally exhaled as he lifted it over her head. Her eyes were full of adoration as she looked up at him.

“Hi,” he whispered. His hands landed on her cheeks and her hands rested against his chest.

“I’ve been missing those eyes.” Her own twinkled in kind. John leaned in, he couldn’t help himself, the officiant clearing his throat to stop them.

“We are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of John Clarence Egan and Cassandra Ann Cooper,” they smirked at each other. She hadn’t gone by her maiden name in almost three years. Not since London. “We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends.”

A journey of love. Their love had already survived so much. From the moment their eyes had locked on an airfield in England, it had strengthened to withstand the tests of time. Their journey had taken them to the darkest corners of humanity the world had to offer. Had forced them to make difficult decisions in the name of survival. But all those decisions had led them here. All the darkness had led to this overwhelming light. Neither of them would change a thing.

A journey of understanding. They had come together and been torn apart and brought back together. And every stage had led them to becoming a new version of the person they had fallen in love with. They worked hard each and every single day to understand who was sitting across from them. Who was looking at them through the mirror. They had been off kilter for a little while but would always find their balance.

A journey of perseverance. This was the easiest for them to feel when they looked at each other. They were both stubborn. Bull-headed in their pursuit of survival and a life after war. Aggressively unable to give up on each other. Relentlessly devoted to the forever that they had promised each other.

“...and dedication to one another that lasts through time. As we stand here today to mark this occasion, we remember that what matters most is not the ceremony itself, but the love and companionship you will continue to share throughout your married life together.” John squeezed her hands. “There are no vows more meaningful and powerful than those which will be shared here today. Your wedding vows are a sacred declaration of your love for each other, the foundation of your relationship as a married couple, and the life you want to build together.” Cass thanked her sister as she handed her the piece of paper her vows were on, turning back to face John and letting his gaze give her the strength to lay bare her emotions.

“John, my blue sky, my love. From the moment I saw you, I couldn’t shake you. You were the first person in a long time to see me. To see all my faults and jagged edges and not to look away but to meet them like a perfect puzzle piece. Where I am weak, you are strong and you have spent everyday making me feel loved and safe and happy in ways words cannot capture.” John used his thumb to wipe a tear from her face and stroked his knuckles up and down her cheek for good measure. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment with you for anything in the world. Even the tough ones, even the painful ones, even the ones where I thought I was going to lose you. Because we’ve already proven our love can face anything and come out stronger on the other side. That forever will only be the beginning for us. And doing life with you, John Egan, will be the honor of my life.” Cass dabbed at the tears under her eyes, John knocking his forehead against hers.

“That was so beautiful, baby. I love you so much and-”

“Major Egan, you could just say your vows.” Gale smiled. Finally someone was getting a taste of what he had dealt with. He handed John the piece of paper and sent a wink in Marge’s direction. John looked down at the paper and swallowed before handing it back to Gale.

“Bucky-”

“I’d rather just tell you, Cass, how I feel in this exact moment because I have never been more in love with you.” She giggled as he held both her hands and locked his baby blues onto her eyes. “I fall more and more in love with you every second that I am with you. You are the reason I survived everything we went through, my love. The reason I made it through to the other side was because I knew that was where a future with you was waiting for me. You had this flyboy dreaming of growing roots from the moment I saw you. From the moment I saw you at a pub with your nose buried in a book, I knew I was done for. I knew you were going to challenge me and make me work to earn your love and it was so worth it, Cass, is still so worth it. We are going to build the most amazing life together, our own little solar system, and I will fight for you and our future every day, Cass. I promise.”

“And you’ve never broken a promise,” she whispered as the tears flowed freely down her face.

“I don’t plan on starting now, Spook…Can I kiss her yet, Father?” A gentle laugh rippled throughout the crowd around the tears they were wiping away.

“Soon, Major. Repeat after me.”

“I, John Clarence Egan, take you Cassandra Ann Egan to be my wedded wife.”

“I, Cassandra Ann Egan, take you John Clarence Egan, to be my wedded husband.”

“I promise to stand by your side through good times and bad times…”

“...for richer or poorer…”

“...in sickness and in health.”

“I vow to stay true to you and love you…”

“...unconditionally for the rest of my days.” They both finished with a smile, drifting closer and closer to each other as the words wrapped around them. There was no daylight between their torsos as she threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and he locked his fingers at the small of her back.

“Do you, John Clarence Egan, take this woman to be your wedded wife?”

“I do,” he said just to her, his blue eyes molten pool of crystalline love.

“Do, Cassandra Ann Cooper, take this man to be your wedded husband?”

“I do,” her heart skipping a beat as John licked his lips.

“It is now time for you to exchange rings. Your rings symbolize the eternal commitment that you make to each other, and the never ending circle of your love. May these rings always remind you of the commitment you are making here today.” Gale handed each of them a ring, John taking Cass’ left hand tenderly.

“I, John Clarence Egan, give you, Cassandra Ann Egan, this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment to you.” The silver band fit perfectly on her finger, John swiping his thumb over it a few times to ensure it was real. That after everything they had been through, the two of them were right where they had always wanted to be.

“I, Cassandra Ann Egan, give you, John Clarence Egan, this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment to you.” The band looked at home on his hand. Like he was always meant to be claimed as hers.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may-” He wasn’t able to get the word out as their noses bumped together in the urgency to connect their lips. Cheers erupted from the guests and he held her tighter and tighter and tighter against his body and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, John groaning with ecstasy. “It is with great honor that I present you Mr. and Mrs. John Egan!” Cass giggled as John dipped her triumphantly, his lips pressed to the side of her head as they faced the adoring mass in front of them. Her one hand was gripped tightly by his, the other holding her skirt, as they made their way back to the doors that led inside.

“Mr. and Mrs. Egan, congratulations! We have the reception area-”

“I think I need to change out of my dress, first,” Cass said to the woman but looking at John. Her fingers were already loosening his tie. “Would you like to help me, Mr. Egan?” He nodded wordlessly, catching her chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Don’t wait for us to start the party, ma’am. I’m going to take my time with my wife.”

----

The door to her suite slammed shut behind them and he was on her in an instant. They couldn’t help but laugh into each other’s lips as their noses collided, and her hair was falling out of its style and his hat landed on the ground.

“You make me so happy,” she whispered as her fingers carded through his curls, tossed his tie to the side and slowly began to undo the buttons of his jacket. “I love you so much, John Egan. Just the way you are.” John brought his hands, delicately, to the diamond headband in her hair, lifting gently and placing it on the table by the door.

“There was a time I would have done anything to hear you say those words.” She whined as he kissed her once then pulled away. Cass pushed his jacket off his shoulders. “I thought, after I heard them for the first time, that feeling would go away. I’d still do anything just to hear you say you love me.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you.” Her arm hooked around his neck and dragged him down to her lips, his hand fumbling to free her hair from the confines of her veil and pins.

“If I can’t get your hair out of this riddle…” Her kisses were doing nothing to help his concentration. And her hands on his belt buckle were doing even less.

“You haven’t even seen the complex feminine garments that are under this dress yet,” she teased.

“Cass, I’ll just fucking rip it off of you if you aren’t careful.” She reached her hand towards her hair, pulling one pin for it to cascade around her shoulders in bountiful waves. “How in God’s name…”

“You were going to get started on the buttons of my dress, Major?”

Thankfully, he was able to compose himself long enough to undo them without tearing the lace of her dress. The release of her corset and stockings allowed her to take a full breath and John lifted her into his arms, her legs around his waist and her chest between his lips.

“So, so beautiful,” he muttered in a daze as he laid her on the bed. “And all mine.”

“Let me see what’s all mine,” she breathed as she sat up and kissed down his chest, his fingers undoing the buttons of his dress shirt as quickly as he could possibly manage. She paid extra to kiss exactly where his heart would be. “This right here is the part I’m most honored to have.” She pressed her hand flat and he placed his on top.

“It’s all yours. Every last beat.”

Their kisses were sloppy and impatient as they were both fully bare, John crawling to hover over her and kissing a long line down, down, down. He kissed her clit softly, her fingers threading into his curls instantly. He moved oh so slowly and oh so softly and with direct intention behind every flick of his tongue and curl of his finger inside of her. “All mine,” he repeated.

“All yours, John,” she panted. Her hips lifted ever so slightly off the bed, his forearm pressing them back down into the mattress with force.

“You’re so pretty when you cum for me.” Two of his fingers curled against the spot that made her muscles quiver. “That’s my girl.” Cass propped herself onto her elbows to look him in the eye, exactly the way she knew he liked, as his thumb pressed against her clit in the same rhythm as his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, John. Faster.” He obliged. Watched in wonder as her moan caught in her throat and her chest blossomed with the flush of her orgasm. Her hips squirmed as she came back to reality but his fingers weren’t stopping.

“Want you to make a mess for me, baby.” Ever since he had first learned he could coax arousal from her in such a way, he had been focused on working it out of her again. “Think you could do that for me?”

“Yes, Johnny.” His fingers went deeper and faster and curled against the front of her with a sense of purpose only she would be able to inspire in him. Her hands gripped at her breasts as she moaned.

“Good girl. Just let yourself go, baby.” She gasped as her hips bucked again, John could hear the change in his fingers pumping in and out of her. Cass was so close he could taste it. When her nails scratched at his scalp and her back arched and her toes curled, he spread her thighs even wider latched his mouth onto her. It was like drinking nectar straight from the source. She writhed against his tongue as he lapped at every drop, John’s own hips seeking friction by rutting against the matress.

He looked absolutely sinful. Chin coated in her cum. A curl hanging down his forehead. Kissing at the inside of her thigh to make sure he didn’t miss a drop.

“John…” She was practically out of breath as he stroked her clit one more time just to watch the way her stimulated body reacted to his touch.

“You soaked the sheets baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Need you inside me,” she whimpered as John stood, pulling her to the edge of the bed. “Need my husband to fuck me.”

“My wife needs my cock?” he asked rhetorically. She nodded, trying to move her hips forward to close the gap. He tapped her with the head of his length before teasing up and down her slit to gather her wetness. He saw stars as he pushed into her. She welcomed as much of him as physically possible, her brow furrowed and mouth agape as she watched him rock in and out of her gently. “Cass.” His hand reached to wrap around her throat as he picked up his pace. A moan escaping her lips in time with his thrusts.

“Cum inside me, John.” He almost lost his focus at her words. They had been so careful since getting back. Not wanting a child to complicate the things they had been working through. But maybe now that all of that was behind them…

“You mean that?” He needed to be sure, his hips quickening with a mind of their own.

“I’m cert- oh, right there.” She grabbed his wrist as he hit a particularly sweet spot deep inside of her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Oh, Johnny, I’m so close.” Her own hand reached between them and began to work tight circles around her clit. John loved watching her touch herself. Had a habit of sitting behind her in a mirror and talking her through exactly how he wanted her to do it.

His hip snapped quicker, the sounds of skin on skin and her sweet moans echoing through the room. “Get there with me, Cass, come on baby.” She knew how many thrusts away he was based on the way his forehead creased and his moans sounded strangled and he would always seek out a kiss from her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted as he stilled and she felt a warmth filling inside her that she hadn’t experienced before. He gripped her hips and pulled her forward, burying himself inside of her to the hilt. Her breath caught in her throat with a squeak as her whole body went stiff before it was shocked back to life by her orgasm. Her moan was the sweetest song as it caressed his ears, his chest heaving as he looked where their bodies were connected.

“Going to need to do that a couple more times before dinner,” he said, “Just to make sure I’ve gotten the hang of it.” A knock at the door broke their trance.

“We’re busy,” Cass called out lazily as John moved to drop his forearms on either side of her head. He kissed the side of her neck and she craned it to offer him more skin to love on.

“Mr. and Mrs. Egan, we’ve delayed your arrival as much as we can.” There was a very specific balance of timing for such an affair. The first dance and the dance with her father and his mother had to be cadenced perfectly with the toasts and the dinner. Not to mention the five tiered wedding cake and not to mention they had a ship that would be waiting in the morning to take them to their honeymoon. If they were any later, everything could be derailed. She knocked again.

“I am a little hungry,” Cass noted, her thumb smoothing over the crease in the middle of his forehead. “And you did promise you’d sing Blue Skies for me tonight.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She nodded. “Guess we better get you all cleaned up then.”

----

There was an empty chair at the head table the whole night because Cass refused to leave her husband’s lap. No one was surprised that they were late. That Cass’ hair was no longer in the elaborate style she had had previously. Both of their sisters certainly noticed the way her knees buckled and John tightened his arm around her waist. Gale and Marge recognizing the shade of lipstick peeking out from just underneath John’s collar.

“And now the best man, Gale Cleven, has a few words for the lovely couple.” John whistled as Buck made his way to the microphone, Cass kissing his cheek until he got the hint and turned to kiss her.

“If any of you are new to the John and Cass solar system, I can say with authority they are like this all the time.” The crowd laughed and John raised his glass before taking a sip, Cass burying her face in his neck. “I’ve spent a lot of time with John Egan. Known him from the moment he put on that uniform, making the choice to serve his country. He is a natural pilot. A natural leader. It’s natural for him to love others but hard for him to accept their love in return.”

“I think he’s trying to make you cry,” Cass whispered.

“He might.”

“When I was writing this speech, I was having trouble finding the words to describe the love these two have for each other. The love that never waivered, even on the darkest of nights. And that is because of two things. Firstly, Cass is his compass, his North Star. She guides him home. To safety, to her. To comfort and to love. In return, John chases away the shadows of the night and brings her a Blue Sky. His favorite song, that fact she stuck around after hearing his rendition should tell you all you need to know, and his favorite sentiment. That the presence of someone you love is enough to chase away all your blue days.” Buck turned and faced two of the most important people in his life. Those responsible for his survival in Germany. Who he would never be able to thank enough for getting him home to Marge. “You two gave me the strength to keep fighting. The strength to make it home to my wife. Because you two gave me the courage to believe in destiny and fate and the notion that our souls can find their other half.”

Cass used her napkin to dab gently at the corner of her eyes, John’s hand squeezing where it rested on her knee. His eyes were focused on his friend with a look of pure love. The look of a man who had survived unspeakable horrors but had his anchor keeping him sane. One on that stage and the other in his arms.

“I love you, John. I don’t say it nearly enough,” she said with her lips pressed to his cheek.

“Cass and John, I know you have the most incredible, love-filled days ahead of you and I cannot wait to watch the life you two build together because I know for a fact the world is a better place with your love in it. To my two favorite heathens.” Gale raised his glass, Cass blowing him a kiss and John tightly smiling and nodding in an effort to keep his emotions at bay. The flutes of champagne that were passed out went down in a single gulp, the band starting back up as Gale made his way back to the head table.

“Gale, that was so beautiful. Thank you.” Cass untwined herself from John’s grasp to wrap Buck in a hug. “Here I was thinking you were sick of us and our antics.”

“I am sick of catching you two working on my future niece or nephew but will never tire of watching you two love each other.” Buck went to shake John’s hand but John pulled him in for a hug instead.

“You got me through, Buck. Got me here with all these blessings,”John looked his friend in the eye, “I’ll never be able to repay that.”

“You repay me by loving your wife with all you got, every day.” Marge walked over to join them. “Hey, maybe you two even name your son after me!”

“Don’t count on it.”

----

The party showed no signs of dying down even a few hours later. Everyone was sufficiently drunk and full of cake. John had brought the house down when he sang just as Cass requested. She was giddy with her love for him.

“Get some fresh air with me?” she requested as he lifted her up and spun her around.

“Lead the way, my love.” Cass dragged him out the door and a few yards away, dramatically dropping into the grass with a giggle and John followed suit. “Haven’t gotten to just look at the stars with you in awhile.”

“We’ve been busy. I wouldn’t mind slowing down a little,” she murmured as her cheek rested over his heart.

“Me neither. A little time away is going to be nice.” A couple weeks on safari in Tanzania followed by a couple weeks on the beaches of Zanzibar. It sounded heavenly.

“It’s going to be perfect.”

One year ago, they had finally escaped hell. It had taken all 365 days since to learn the new intricacies of the person lying with them. To learn their new scars. To love them as equally as the old ones. To convince each other they were safe and could let their guards down again and love each other with the same reckless abandon they had back in England. They had found their way back to each other. Found their way back into the perfect synchronous dance they had mastered. Found their way permanently nestled in each other’s hearts. No longer two separate people but a union. Two halves of a whole locked into a willing embrace for the rest of time.

They had each other. And not a worry on the horizon.

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