#{ sorry this is incredibly belated! hope it works though?

[kairiscorner]

happy birthday — miles 1610 x reader (birthday special)

↳ summary: miles never gets a day off from being spider man, which causes him to lose track of a lot of things, even his own special day. luckily, he has the sweetest partner in the world to help him remember and celebrate. ↳ word count: 1,536 ↳ a/n: i did not realize it was my son's birthday on the third, i'm so sorry it's late SJEBCBFIVBRFVBRBVVRBO BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH TO MAKE UP FOR IT, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY MY BOYYYY AND I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE THIS <333

and he does it again, spider man saves the city from more mutated villains! ...and is currently late for biology class. miles hurries out of the scene and swings over to a less noisy block in city to messily change out of his spider suit and back in his school uniform. the day was jam-packed with so many goings-on for the boy and his workload as both a superhero, student, and son are piling up into one big mountain of work for him.

though he's not one to forget easily, a few things escape his mind without him realizing it. he's been in a rush for too many things too fast, he can't keep up with all the demands quickly. you were worried about miles trying to please everyone and do his part, however you knew very well a lot of what he's doing is beyond his responsibility as being miles morales, resident artsy nerd; though you couldn't blame him, being spider man was a full-time job he couldn't just up and quit.

you would get worried often when he'd reply late, he used to reply so quickly to your messages. his texts nowadays don't go without a crying kaomoji with apologies in such expressive all caps. he sometimes forgets some of the promises he makes you since he's out fulfilling so many others from other people, many of which he isn't familiar with, but hey, it's all in a day in the life of being spider man. he really hates how forgetful he's becoming, since he's so busy nowadays, he even forgets what day of the week it is; he's sometimes stuck in last week and remembers all too late what day it is.

but today was important, you knew very well. it was an important day to you and for miles himself, though he didn't realize it, he was too caught up in saving and helping people that he forgot the very day he was waiting for this year with you. though today, you weren't going to let it slip away from him. you called up ganke and convinced him to help you out with organizing your surprise for miles. you two went over to miles' house and, with the help of his parents, cooked up a delicious dinner for him and decorated the place in a simple, yet incredibly meaningful way.

you didn't see miles all day at school since he was catching up with homework and classes that he missed as spider man. his parents didn't know yet, which was how he was still able to get a gift from them, but as one of your gifts for miles that day, you slipped in his locker some copies of your homework and answers to a couple of tests from subjects you two shared. you were his lifesaver, and miles could not express enough thanks to you. he wanted to make up for all the time he couldn't spend with you tonight, though when he finished his rounds as spider man and went over to your place, he found your room empty. he knocked on your front door, but nobody was home.

miles found it really odd, so he tried calling your cell, but you didn't answer either. you instead texted him back, saying you were at one of your friends' place studying for an upcoming quiz. miles sighed but texted you back saying he understood and wished you luck on that quiz. he swung back home and changed again to not raise any suspicions from his parents, though when he entered the front door...

"happy birthday, miles!"

he was taken aback by how not only his parents surprised him, but you and ganke were there, too. miles blinked in confusion, then, disbelief; then when it registered to him the date today was the third of august, the date of his birthday... a smile had curled on his lips as he chuckled at himself. he forgot today was his own birthday! he mumbled questions, like how, when, where, why--you celebrated his birthday even when he couldn't be there for you when you two agreed to, multiple times.

miles felt a little ashamed in spite of the surprise and happiness he felt that you guys remembered his birthday in his stead, but you approached him, with your hands behind your back as you gazed up at him. "hey," you began as miles froze in place when he heard your kind voice. "oh, um... hey." he said awkwardly with a bashful smile as he tried playing it cool, not letting a hint of nervousness slip out of him, but instead releasing a tidal wave of nervousness come flooding out of him. "happy birthday, miles." you said as you handed him your gift to him. he raised his eyebrows as you handed him a thick box, wrapped in red wrapping paper with black accents, all tied up in a black bow.

"f-for me?" he stuttered out as you chuckled and nodded. "of course, birthday boy." "but... but i... i wasn't there for our dates and meet-ups like i promised..." he uttered as he looked down at your gift with guilt filling his voice. you rolled your eyes as you kept grinning at him. you lightly shook your head as you placed your hand on his cheek, bringing his eyes back up to level with your own. "and that's okay, you would've been there if you could, right? i know you have a lot on your plate, not a lot you can share the burdens and responsibilities with, and i... i get it. you can't quit, and i'm glad you save lives before thinking about yourself, but... today's about you, miles. we can make up for the missed dates and meet-ups once life's a lot less chaotic. i'm willing to wait forever for that peace and quiet." you told him with a sweet voice as you leaned over and pecked at his cheek.

miles got flustered immediately as you kissed him, as every word you uttered sank into his heart, filling it up with even more love and adoration for you, he smiled widely and wrapped you in a big hug. "man... i love you so much. i promise i'll do whatever it takes to give us that peace and quiet you deserve." "we deserve, ya dummy." he chuckled at your correction. "right, right, that we deserve." he said as he pulled away and with you encouraging him to open your gift. you called ganke and his parents over as he began to unwrap your gift.

miles had gasped in excitement and utter shock as he unwrapped the gift, you got him the pair of shoes he had been saving up to buy. he had set the gift aside gently and covered his mouth, smiling as he gasped and kept repeating 'no way!' as he jumped up in glee out of excitement. his mother jokingly told you not to have bought him those shoes because they kinda stole his parents' thunder with their gift for him, but she was so happy to know you knew their son well to gift him the one thing he's always asked for.

ganke was filming the whole time, making commentary on how adorable and dorky miles looked right now, and as miles rushed over to you and thanked you endlessly as he held the shoe box in his right hand and your cheek in the left, he couldn't stop giggling and kissed you all over. "hey nerds! how 'bout you two kiss for the camera, huh? the night's young, live it! kiss! kiss! kiss!" ganke chanted as miles' parents side-eyed each other at the notion. miles was a little hesitant since his parents were in the room, but you certainly didn't care anymore.

you gently grabbed hold of miles' collar and gently, you pressed your lips against his. his mother cried out in spanish as his father chuckled and exclaimed "that's my son right there!" miles was flustered and embarrassed at your boldness, but he didn't want to pull away so quickly. he held the back of your head and gently kissed you back. ganke and his father cheered for you both as his mother retreated to get a glass of wine and kept repeating how you two could've just done it up in miles' room!

"this... is the best birthday ever..." miles hushed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. equally flustered and embarrassed, you stared into his eyes as he grinned and chuckled up at you. "even with your parents watching me kiss you, and ganke capturing all this, probably never gonna let us live it down...?" you asked him as he pecked your lips with another quick kiss and pulled away. "definitely." he replied as you leaned over and kissed him again. it was certainly a birthday to remember, and miles promises that he'll earn back all the days you've spent waiting for him and for the gift you got him. though the gift miles had wanted all this time... was nothing more than to be with you, be with you as he turned another year older, and hopefully, celebrate many more birthdays with you, his dearest.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv

[cdyssey]

Different World

Prompt: i re-read your gardening fic recently where mel's staring at barb and is heart-eyes at her and it's just. so nice. so anything along those lines, would be lovely.

A/N: 

Happy belated birthday, Scottie (@gatalentan)!!

I can't believe you have me over here writing fluff, smh.

But on a sincere note, I'm extremely glad that I've gotten to know you over the last few months. You are so kind, so talented, so funny, and so wonderful, and I'm incredibly lucky that I get to be a witness to all your brilliance firsthand. 

Thank you for all that you do for the Abbott fandom, and thank you for just being a lovely person all around. I'm honored to be someone that you call friend.

CW: Alcohol Mention, Discussions of Coming Out, Suggestiveness

AO3 Link

—

That night, as Barbara ices her coconut cake with passive aggressive gusto, Melissa wraps her arms around her partner’s curving waist in apology, nestling her chin against her shoulder. She has to prop herself up on her tiptoes to do so, which is one of the occupational hazards of being naturally short and loving someone whose favorite kind of shoe is a sensible heel. 

She likes that, though.

Their height difference.

She’s spent all these years looking up to Barbara Howard in so many more ways than one.

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you talk to me again?” She pouts, poking her lower lip out a little. Barbara pauses her emotionally charged cake decorating to audibly sigh, the gesture filtering thinly through her nostrils.

“I’m talking to you right now, Melissa,” she says in a measured voice, her Sister-Howard-who-goes-to-church-three-times-a-week tone. It’s guarded and three octaves too formal, somewhat sanctimonious even. “And I assure you—I’m not mad either. It isn’t exactly your fault that you’re irresistible.”

Yep, there it is.

Both the problem and the succinct answer to what has gotten under the older woman’s skin.

Melissa works hard to suppress a smile.

They’d only recently come back from dinner at Ricci’s, where the waitress had spent the entire meal alternating between blushing and stammering every time that Melissa had so much as looked her way. She had found it vaguely amusing, such puppy dog love from a clumsy kitten, chuckling when she opened the tab and saw that the young thing had shakily scrawled her number in pink pen on the receipt. It reminded her of her long past youth, when she’d often found herself wondering if her ma’s cousin with suspiciously cropped hair, or her eleventh grade English teacher who carefully referred to her significant other as her partner, or her favorite foul-mouthed nun at St. Bartholomew’s were like her. 

Did they like women too?

It was harder to talk about back then, of course, and so she didn’t. She kissed girls beneath bleachers and in shadowy, secluded corners all around Philly. She’d been terrified to tell Joe that she swung both ways, afraid that he’d leave her, unaccustomed to people in her life ever staying—but to his enduring credit, that was one of the few things that the old gabbadost never gave her shit about.

It’s a different world nowadays, though, and she loves that for the generations below her. She loves that a squirrelly, little waitress can feel comfortable enough to write down her number and hope for a call that’ll unfortunately never come.

Barbara, on the other hand, had decidedly not been so endeared by the discovery, nearly silent the entire drive back to her house, almost immediately drowning out their ability to talk by turning the volume up on her spectacularly horrible Pandora playlist.

(It's just seventy percent Otis Redding and thirty percent instrumental jazz that isn’t sound mixed properly.)

“Sure feels like you’re something at me,” Melissa shrugs. “Mad, disappointed…”

She trails off, a slow and easy grin lifting one side of her mouth.

“Jealous,” she whispers against the column of Barbara’s exposed neck, pleased when she feels the other woman shiver beneath her.

That will never get old. 

They’ve only been officially dating for a little less than half-a-year now, sure, but every time that Melissa is reminded anew that Barbara is forever hers to cherish, to worship, to love, and reverently respect, she gets chills running laps down her spine all over again.

She’d never thought that she would get to be with her best friend without at least one of them—or, hell, sometimes even both of them—having a foot out the door.

“What? I’m not… jealous,” Barbara huffs, resuming her pastry ministrations again, attacking the cake like it's personally offended her. “You’re being facetious—distracting me while I’m trying to ice this cake. I'm making this for you, you know!"

“Touching, but the cake can wait,” she says firmly, reaching over to pluck the spatula out of Barbara’s hand. 

“Hey!” She protests, but Melissa pays her no mind.

“I wanna know what’s up your craw,” she continues, undeterred, and takes a step back, brandishing the spatula like a wand. She’s tempted to lick the vanilla icing off of it, but she’s well-aware that she’d get an ass chewing faster than she could say Dave-n-Busters if she did.

Barbara finally pivots around herself, arms crossed over her chest, a gesture that Melissa recognizes to be protective. And yet, she equally knows that getting the other woman to admit to feeling caged is half of the battle. Even that’s an admission of vulnerability too far for her sometimes.

“I’m not jealous,” she repeats herself, looking somewhere about an inch to the left of Melissa’s face. “I’m not.”

Melissa instantly softens, noting the consternation in Barbara’s dark eyes, how the emotion swells in them like a bruise. 

“Okay,” she says gently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “You’re not. I believe you.”

And she does.

That’s the mutual kindness that they’ve extended to each other after all these years of having known and loved each other so intimately: as colleagues, as friends, as lovers. 

Honesty.

It’s a truth made even more striking by the fact that neither of them are particularly honest people, lying to other people and themselves all the time as their most reliable defense mechanisms.

With each other, though, they’ve never held anything back, except maybe for the crucial fact that they loved each other.

But even that had to eventually be named, confessed, and appropriately acted upon—wordlessly communicated by way of mouth and tongue.

“So spill,” she goes on, with all the fondness and exquisite tenderness in the world. “I’ve got time."

Indeed, she has nowhere else to be except for present with Barbara in this delicately fraught moment. She looks at her, this goddess in the flesh, elegant in a silky blue blouse and her shining pearls, and feels a rush of holy adoration.

“Melissa…” The kindergarten teacher starts and then just as abruptly stops, briefly worrying her plum-colored lips together, looking uncomfortable. “I know I said otherwise, I know I said that I wasn’t quite ready for us to be… transparent with the world just yet, but I was—Lord, this sounds so silly saying it out loud—"

She visibly winces and Melissa takes pity on her.

"It's not silly at all," she says quickly. "I'm listenin'."

Barbara smiles gratefully at this intrusion, taking a deep, steadying breath to clearly orient herself.

"... I was, well, annoyed that the waitress didn’t realize that we were together.”

Melissa isn't exactly sure what she was expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn't that. She knows that she doesn’t discipline her expression well-enough either, painfully aware that her visceral reaction is the one that Barbara receives; her entire face stretches in utter and cartoonish shock.

“You’re mine,” Barbara says hurriedly, taking advantage of her rare speechlessness, “but that poor waitress didn’t know, and she flirted with you, and I realized how foolish it was—entirely ridiculous even!—to have at least six articulated boundaries preventing me from reaching out and grabbing your hand.”

And to Melissa’s increasing wonder, astonishment, and unadulterated surprise, Barbara reaches out then and does it—she grabs her free hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

“What are you sayin', Barb?” She asks, not daring to hope, hoping anyway. She hasn’t begrudged the older woman for insisting that they wait at all, knowing that she’s just wanted to approach the situation delicately with her girls and to spare Gerald's feelings for just a little while longer following their divorce a little over a year ago now. And even though they’ve never quite talked about it, she has a sneaking suspicion that fear is a powerful inhibitory element too. 

It always is.

It’s terrifying to be in the closet, to not know what's waiting on the other side.

Melissa has been out of it for a pretty long damn time now, but she had no trouble sliding back in just to patiently hold Barbara’s hand.

“I’m saying that we’re absolutely not taking separate cars to school anymore,” comes an astoundingly decisive answer as Barbara rolls her thumb across the side of Melissa's own. “And when you stay over, I want you to bring more than a night’s worth of clothes and a toothbrush. I’ll even make you a drawer.”

“Just a drawer?” Melissa laughs, but there are tears standing in her eyes, and she’s smiling so damn hard that it almost hurts. Barbara takes the opportunity to steal the spatula back, prying it from her fist and tossing it on the kitchen counter behind her. 

“Two,” she amends teasingly, her own eyes over bright, briefly swinging their hands in the gap between them. “And maybe some space in your closet for your frankly ludicrous collection of leather jackets.”

“Hey! I’ve only got seven.”

“That’s at least five too many.”

“Screw your calculus,” Melissa snorts, and now it’s her turn in the tango of their affection to make a bold move. She leverages their clasped hands to reel Barbara in, pulling their bodies close, aligning their chests, their tummies, their warm thighs.

“Vulgar,” Barbara smiles down at her, anchoring her fingers on her hips.

“Feisty,” Melissa corrects before gathering the collar of her partner’s blouse in her fingertips. It’s a wordless request that she should lean forward; they have plenty of things to say to each other without ever needing to speak. 

Their lips meet at a crooked angle, soft and luscious, a little bitter from the champagne that Melissa had at dinner and simultaneously sweet from Barbara’s honeyed wine. And Melissa’s toes splay on the cold tiles, fireworks bursting in the column of her throat as she reaches up to gingerly cradles the nape of Barbara’s neck. And Barbara is so gentle, so kind, and yet characteristically exact as she spreads her kisses from Melissa’s mouth to her jaw to her neck to the slightly freckled skin just above her collarbone—a practiced connoisseur by now in knowing all the little places that make her sing.

She thinks that if they could ever just get these damn clothes off, she’d reciprocate the favor, starting with the space between her lovely breasts and loving her all the way down.

“Would you hold it against me if I confess to having been the tiniest bit jealous?” Barbara finally admits when Melissa’s lips ghost the side of her head. The overhead lighting rings her hair in a golden halo.

Melissa laughs loudly—enchanted, so perfectly in love.

“I think I’d hold it against you if you weren’t,” she clucks, gratified when she feels Barbara hitch against her. The kindergarten teacher begins to work her fingers beneath the edge of Melissa’s shirt, rolling it upwards, baring her skin.

“You’re so unserious, girlfriend.”

“Tell me that again after we’re done,” she smirks before doing her part and helping out.

When all is said and done, there’s a pile of clothes on the kitchen floor, a half-iced coconut cake on the marbled counter, and two women who can’t quite take their hands off each other, stumbling and dancing all the way down the dimly-lit hall.

[seijorhi]

👁️👄👁️

I'm alive, sorry I fell off the face of the earth for a few days there (I was unwell - new anxiety meds and all that jazz)

BUT!! I have much to say, both about your new fic and obviously one of the older ones, so here's an extremely belated / extended ART&RCSW <33

Firstly, Maelstrom was incredible, it changed the way I live my life

I don't even watch Trigun Stampede but good lord did you get me hooked on the characters - not to mention, a good poly fic is always the way to my heart

The twist of the secret bastard brothers?? Incredible. Delicious. Amazing. And the not so subtle hatred they have for their father?? The fact that the only good thing to come from him was their darling sister?? My gosh, you've got me wrapped around your finger Rhi

Though I must admit, the whole reveal and the part where reader is being lead to the throne room gave me anxiety - you always manage to surprise me with the way you set things up, and I mean that in the best way possible

I can't say anything about the characterisation of Vash and Knives because I don't watch the show, but I imagine that as with everyone else, you've done an amazing job

Also the sense of hopelessness at the end?? Because like, there's literally no escape - the best type of ending in my professional opinion

Next up on the agenda, we have a fic (series??) that I know you're not particularly fond of, but I absolutely love

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you, your Hawks / Dabi soulmate fic - it has me in a fucking chokehold

It's literally everything I love in a fic - soulmates, poly relationship, yandere, it's just amazing

The slight sprinkle of angst kinda feels like a punch to the gut, but in a satisfying way - not to mention, the fact that Natsuo still keeps in touch with the reader even though they don't really have a connection aside from Touya kills me, he's so sweet

And poor Keigo (he's insane but I do not care <33)

The way my stomach drops when the reader realises that she has another soulmate will never not be a great feeling, but the way she knows instinctively that something is missing because Dabi isn't there really is painful

Like I said, I know you've said you don't really like the series, but I'm here to reassure you, I loved it, so rest assured, the hard work didn't go down the drain <33

I'm also really sorry for disappearing for like two or three weeks :// But I'm back now (??)

Anyway, I hope you've been well, drinking water and sleeping and whatnot <33

See you next week Rhi (I hope??) Lol :))

BBY I MISSED YOU <33

i hope ur doing okay, i am sending you all the forehead smooches and love!!

ahh but this ask is so nice!! honestly i was so worried about posting maelstrom cuz it's a new fandom for both me and sort of in general – i know the manga and old anime have been around for a while, but for most people it's new – and i wasn't sure if people were actually going to read it

turns out you did anyway, not knowing any of the characters vhgfjdksjdhfjdks it's always such a huge compliment when that happens. it's actually how i found my way first to bnha and then to haikyuu so, yeah, it makes me happy to see it's the same for you guys

as for through the cold... hoo boy. i did have big plans for that one, and every month or so there's a part of me that wants to either delete part 2 and start again, or delete the entire thing and start again, with better execution this time. i may not be as in love with bnha as i used to be, but hawks and touya, and that particular storyline (i am if nothing else a sucker from the soulmate trope gone wrong)

but also... the part i hate about series, and one of my biggest gripes as a writer is when there's a demand for part 2's and 3's but then it's crickets in the notes. part 2 kinda flopped and idk if it was because it wasn't great or if people just couldn't be bothered to leave a response, so while i do occasionally have the motivation to continue it i don't know if it's actually worth while or if anyone (aside from you haha) would be into it. but then i think about all that delicious angst and keigo and touya being jealous assholes and... hmmmm.... vghfjdkjhvfjdks

in any case, i'm glad you liked it and it was very sweet of you to send this ask and i adore you.

also, pls take care of yourself, and don't apologise for taking the time you need. i, of course, live for these asks and seeing you in my notes, but it's never a necessity. your mental/physical health always comes first <33

[httpiastri]

Hello love!

It's been a little while, so first of all-Happy belated birthday! I saw the messages on the day and wanted to write a little something, but then I got so busy 🙈 so I wish you all the best, for all of your wishes to be fulfilled and a great year overall!

I really like the new layout, it seems so calm 🩵

I feel like my life has been so busy lately, I barely had time to catch my breath. But for now, I am incredibly happy to be here and getting to know me again in a completely different environment. My host family is so lovely and last weekend I met some nice au pairs that live really close to me, so now I am not even alone anymore haha!

Being here also means that I am kinda always out and about, so I only watched fp3 yesterday and the start of the f2 race today. It's a shame it got cancelled so soon :( but safety first of course!

I won't be able to watch the F1 race tomorrow, but I am still hoping for some Lando magic. I really want him to win the race, but I also want to be there and watch it live? But it will be Max's win anyways lol!

In the last ask you said you were planning dropping out of uni- I am sorry to hear that, even though its probably for the best if you don't like the subjects. I don't know how people react in your country with news like that, but just remember that it's most important to be happy with what you do! (Who knows? Maybe you want to do a year abroad somewhere as well?)

I will probably catch up on all the writing you uploaded in the last couple of days and go to bed then- I am exhausted 😴

-✨

love! hello!! thank you so much, i hope you get a lovely year too 💘 and thank you! my old theme was so random shssjhs i do enjoy this a bit more !!

aw it makes me so glad to hear that you are happy and that the people around you are good to you. and i love the positive mindset! it must be really challenging but you’re doing so well 🥹 and oooo you met some people!! that’s lovely !!! are they from a lot of different countries or is it all kind of similar? if you get what i mean shsksjs

yeah it must be hard to keep track of all racing when you’re so busy… i was disappointed about them cancelling f2 but i do think it was a good choice, it didn’t seem very safe. it just sucks that they can’t like postpone sessions instead of cancel them :( like i get that it’s because of the schedule on the track but it still sucks! for everyone probably

!! crossing my fingers for lando tomorrow !!!! hoping for maybe a little rain (but not so much that it’s dangerous) for tomorrow’s f2 feature so arthur can get some easy climbing…. pls he deserves some points 🙏🙏🙏

hmm well in my country i guess it’s kinda like… not super weird to not go to uni? or at least it’s common to take a few years off to work and stuff after high school. the good thing about sweden is that school doesn’t cost anything so i have no debts and won’t lose any money for dropping out, which i guess is a big problem for people dropping out in other countries. we even get paid to go to school here, and tbh i was gonna use that money to pay for rent but that’s not happening now…. so well 🫠 but yes thank you, i will try to remember that!! <3

to be honest, i’ve thought a lot about moving to another major city or even going abroad, because recently i feel like this place isn’t for me in some way. i applied (and got accepted) to a school in the second biggest city, but i have too many responsibilities here this year that i just can’t escape from so it just wouldn’t work out 🥲 but i really do think that moving abroad is going to be the goal for me for the future! idk how but im gonna try to make it happen lmao!! i shall take inspiration from your braveness 🥰🤭

awh, i hope you get some good sleep and dream sweet dreams of our boys!! 😚😚😚

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Coffee Shop Kisses

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Request: something soft with Yelena from @bright-molina

Summary: After moving back to her small Ohio hometown, the reader bumps into an old friend at her favorite coffee shop.

Warnings: none ?

A/N: Happy incredibly belated Birthday Bianca!!! Sorry this took so long for me to write but I really hope you like it!! This fic has everything: the gays, some light pinning, and chai lattes !

Masterlist

___

You couldn’t believe you were back in your small Ohio hometown. When you moved away after high school it was never your intention to come back but clearly, fate didn’t have the same plans as you drove through your childhood neighborhood.

It was nostalgic, driving through the familiar streets despite the changes in the neighborhood since your childhood. While the houses had mostly remained the same, you knew many of their occupants had changed. The Browns no longer lived in the house two doors down from yours, having retired to Florida not long after their children had moved out, and many other family’s you’d known growing up had followed suit. Others had downsized to smaller houses in other parts of the city, no longer needing the extra space. Now the neighborhood was filled with new families, young parents taking advantage of the location to raise their children.

Still, the atmosphere was largely the same, and if you let yourself you could almost imagine that the kids playing in the front yards and the street or biking through the neighborhood, calling out to friends as they passed, were the kids you’d grown up with.

It was strange, being back home. It felt stranger still to call it “home.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall back into a routine, despite the lingering nostalgia. You woke up every morning with just enough time to get ready and drive downtown to work, if you were lucky you’d end up with a few extra minutes to stop into your favorite coffee shop from your teenage years, which was conveniently located a couple doors down from your office. It was simple, sure, but it worked for you.

On the weekends you always made a point to walk to that downtown coffee shop with a book or some other activity, preferring the ambiance and the subtle noise of the building and its other patrons over the still silence of your house. Plus they had amazing drinks so you really couldn’t lose.

Normally you enjoyed taking in the hustle and bustle of the small town around you as people completed their weekly errands, but that day you were lost in your head as you walked along the sidewalk. It wasn’t as if you were thinking about anything in particular (when reflecting back later you’d merely blame it on having had a long week at work), but rather than enjoy the people watching as you normally would, you let them all pass you by without a single glance, all the way down the street and into the line at your coffee shop. You ordered your usual without much fanfare, still having the presence of mind to drop your change into the tip jar on the counter. It wasn’t until you had gotten your drink that you were thrust out of your thoughts, quite literally.

You had only just turned around from the counter, about to start scanning the cafe for a seat when you were knocked to the ground, your drink spilling in your hands.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Disoriented and still in a haze, the thick Russian accent of the woman who had spoken caught your attention.

A hand reached down into your line of sight and you took it gratefully, managing to keep the pitiful drops of unspilled chai latte in your cup as you were pulled to your feet.

“Let me buy you a new drink,” she offered though you barely heard her.

Now that you were back on your feet you got a better look at the woman who had bumped into you. She was of average height and had her blonde hair pulled into a double ponytail. You didn’t know any Russians but you could’ve sworn you’d met before.

“Do I know you?” You blurted out before you could think and the other woman blinked at you in surprise, brows lifting slightly.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “I used to live around here when I was younger.”

You narrowed your eyes at that, certain you would’ve remembered growing up alongside a Russian family, everyone you remembered was as American as they come. It was a small town in Ohio, after all.

“So did I,” you spoke slowly, still trying to ponder it out in your head. “Over on Brown.”

Her eyes narrowed at that, now scrutinizing you as well.

“I grew up on State Street.”

That’s when it clicked for you. You remembered them; family of four, two daughters. Natasha used to ride her bike down your street all the time which meant the woman in front of you must be…

“Yelena?”

“You remember me?”

“Yeah, holy shit! Your sister rode her bike through my mom’s flowers one time by accident, pissed her off for the whole summer. Plus, we went to preschool together.”

“Wait, Y/N Y/L/N?”

“In the flesh,” you replied, spreading your arms out dramatically.

Yelena took that as an invitation to really study you then, eyes flitting up and down as she fully took you in.

“You grew up quite nicely,” she spoke, tone appreciative and you found yourself blushing.

“I- I could say the same thing about you,” you stumbled over your words, feeling flustered. “I don’t remember you being Russian.”

You mentally cursed yourself for once again blurting something out before you could even think about it.

Yelena laughed at that and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at the sound. She had a cute laugh. It was fitting.

“Yes, well, my ‘family' and I were actually part of a Russian spy organization, sent to infiltrate a nearby SHIELD facility for some information, so,” she shrugged and you laughed at first, assuming she was joking before you realized she wasn’t laughing along.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Why would I lie?”

You fumbled around with your words at that, unable to come up with a proper response but feeling as though you needed to say something anyway.

“How about I buy you a drink and you tell me about it?” You finally settled on saying and Yelena’s brows lifted again in surprise.

“Sure, but I’m buying the drinks. I owe you for spilling your first one.”

You nodded in agreement, somehow having forgotten all about your spilled drink in the excitement of reconnecting with an old friend. An old friend who was very attractive, if you were being fully honest with yourself.

With new drinks ordered and retrieved, the two of you made your way to a small table by the front window of the cafe. True to your agreement, Yelena explained to you that her “family” when she’d lived in Ohio wasn’t actually her family at all, the entire thing fabricated for their mission, and that after their success she continued to work for the organization before finally getting out as an adult. She skimmed on a lot of the details but you got the sense that the entire ordeal was traumatic for her so you didn’t press. Though, you were quite amazed that the woman across from you (and the tiny blonde girl you’d played dolls with as a kid) was a former spy and assassin. In comparison, your own life story was much less exciting, though you guessed it also held much less trauma as well. Still, Yelena asked and she listened intently as you explained how you’d wound up back in your hometown all these years later.

After that, the conversation seemed to flow seamlessly from one topic to another, and it was so nice to talk to a friend and catch up that you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you went to take a sip from your long-forgotten chai and found it ice cold. You checked your phone and were surprised to see that nearly two hours had passed and while you were planning on spending much longer at the cafe anyway, it still caught you off guard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” Yelena asked, having noticed you checking the time.

“No!” You rushed to reassure her before flushing slightly at the knee-jerk reaction. “No, I just hadn’t realized how much time has passed. It’s been really nice to see you.”

“It’s been nice to see you too, perhaps we can do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that a lot.” You tried to fight the heat that you felt rushing to your cheeks once more. You weren’t sure if she meant it the same way you did.

“Me too,” she replied softly, ducking her head so that her face was out of view. “I actually do have to get going but maybe we can meet here again next week?”

“Absolutely!” You nodded, trying not to seem too eager and failing miserably. “It’s a date.”

Once again the words slipped out on their own accord and you were left scrambling to do damage control.

“I- I mean like, y’know-”

“A date is good,” Yelena cut you off with a smirk, though you could’ve sworn you could see your own nerves reflected in her eyes.

“A date then,” you agreed, flashing a nervous smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” She stood from her chair with a smile, pausing on her way to the door to press a quick peck to your cheek, and then she was gone.

You sat there, still as a statue, for quite some time afterward, your fingertips lightly grazing over where Yelena’s lips had been moments before. You really loved this coffee shop.

[calaofnoldor]

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290​‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass​​ (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural​‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant​‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo​ and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes​ Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.  

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.  

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @moosewinchester​ @sams-sass​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @jotink78​ @winifrede​ @writingforthelonelysoul​ @turtletaylor98​ @lyarr24​ @deanwanddamons​ @peridottea91​ @tvdspngirl314​

TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

if you’d like to be added (or removed) please let me know!

[genshin-impact-writings]

hello dear barista! may i order one small espresso with chocolate powder on the top w/ childe? tysm! i hope i did this correctly qwq

Hey there, dear! Thank you so much for your request, I loved the combination of prompts and I really hope you like what I came up with. <3 So, here's your drink: a small espresso with chocolate powder on top. (Reblogs are very much appreciated. <3)

Prompts: fluff, there’s only one bed, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

Not enough space – Tartaglia x gn!reader

Somehow, you had already sensed that something would go wrong on your trip to Fontaine. Things always went wrong when you decided to accompany Tartaglia – you had started to call him a full-time trouble magnet a while ago because of that – and you had promised yourself to never travel with him again countless times – only to cave in immediately when he looked at you with those pleading eyes you simply couldn’t resist, no matter how hard you tried.

Most of the time, it wasn’t too bad, though, but you had lost count how often you had been stuck in a cave to seek shelter from the pouring rain because Tartaglia had refused to listen to you and return back home to avoid the storm, or how many times you had patched him up after he got reckless and overconfident during a fight. A bit annoying but nothing too bad, really.

But today… well, today it was a different story.

“No way,” you said as you stared at the guest room from where you were standing. It was tiny, so tiny that it could barely fit a bed, a dresser and a bedside table but that wasn’t what bothered you. No, it was the fact that there was only one bed – and a pretty small one, too.

“I’m not going to share that abomination of a bed with you.”

Tartaglia peeked over your shoulder, examining the room and letting out a quiet “Oh” when he realized what was the problem. Then, he leaned in to peck your cheek, a cocky smile flashing over his face afterwards. “We’ve been dating for almost one year now, and you’re embarrassed about sleeping in the same bed as me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. It’s more about the fact that there’s not enough space for both of us – especially with your tossing and turning at night. You’ll shove me out before I can even fall asleep and I really don’t want to hit my head on that damn bedside table.”

“Oh, come on, now you’re over-exaggerating,” Tartaglia said and nuzzled your hair. “I’ve never shoved you out of bed once.”

“Because there’s always enough space,” you replied, reaching up to pat his head. “Which can’t be said for that bed right there.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I know. But it’s not my fault that they messed up our reservation and only have this room left.”

That was true, you had to admit it. But you also couldn’t help but be annoyed by the whole situation, especially since you had looked forward to this trip for quite a while now. Tartaglia had invited you to visit Fontaine together with him as a belated birthday gift after he hadn’t been able to spend your special day with you, so he probably was just as disappointed as you. It really wasn’t fair to blame him now.

“I know,” you relented, the tone of your voice a lot softer now. You turned around to face him and connected your lips in a gentle kiss. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to argue with you, I know it’s not your fault.”

Tartaglia sighed again but you knew him well enough to realize that he couldn’t stay mad at you for too long. “Don’t worry, I understand. This was supposed to be your birthday present and I’m sorry that things didn’t work out like I planned them to.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’re in Fontaine. That’s the best gift you could’ve given me. And don’t worry about the room, I’m sure we’ll find a solution.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Tartaglia offered half-heartedly, silently hoping that you wouldn’t agree but much to his dismay, you nodded slowly and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” you said and kissed him again. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” he grumbled. He already knew that it had been an incredible bad idea to offer something like that but now, it was too late to take it back. Oh well. Next time, he’d better think before speaking.

*

You couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the bright light of the full moon that fell through the windows that kept you awake, or the fact that you couldn’t stop musing about the wonderful day you had spent with your boyfriend. After enjoying a truly splendid meal for dinner, you had taken a stroll around the town, admiring the delicate architecture and the fountains that could be found all over town, beautifully illuminated after dark. You could’ve spent hours watching the splashing water, much to Tartaglia’s merriment who hadn’t missed any opportunity to joke that you definitely should get a Hydro Vision if you loved water so much.

Speaking of Tartaglia… maybe you simply couldn’t sleep because the bed felt unusually empty without him by your side. It probably had been a stupid idea to agree to his offer but you couldn’t cave in now and ask him to join you, could you? But you also couldn’t deny that you missed him – you missed the way he always snuggled up to you before he fell asleep and the soothing sound of his quiet breathing next to you.

With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your pillow but it really wasn’t a worthy replacement.

“Tartaglia?” you whispered into the darkness. “Are you still awake?”

He hummed in response. “Why?” he asked, then. “Are you feeling lonely up there?”

“… no.”

“Liar,” he teased in a soft tone. You heard the rustling of sheet, followed by quiet footsteps and then, you were gently being pushed aside. The next second, Tartaglia had already curled up under your blanket, wrapping his arms around you as he tried to make himself comfortable in the small space.

“Better?” he whispered, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Yes.”

For a while, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s presence while you dwelled on your thoughts. You let out a content sigh and closed your eyes, wondering why you had agreed to his offer to sleep on the floor in the first place.

“You know,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your forehead ever so slightly as he spoke, “today I realized something.”

“What is it?” you whispered back, hesitant to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded you. Now that you were in his arms again, you felt at ease, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to spoil the moment by starting a conversation. And maybe he was feeling the same way because he didn’t reply immediately but when he spoke again, you noticed a hint of insecurity in his voice. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, (Y/N).”

“You – what?” Suddenly, you were wide awake again. The two of you had never spoken about the future before and that he brought it up now took you by surprise, especially since you had never expected him to think about things like that.

He chuckled softly, his hands trailing to the small of your back to pull you closer to him, his lips pressing gently against yours. “I know, I know,” he said. “It’s cheesy. But it really hit me today that I couldn’t imagine living without you and – well, I just wanted you to know.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck when you felt your cheeks heat up to hide both your embarrassment and the idiotic smile that flashed over your face. “I love you,” you mumbled and nuzzled the soft skin of his neck. “And you will never have to live without me. I promise.”

He smiled, although he knew that you couldn’t see it. Before he had met you, he had never expected to ever feel this way. But now he knew that you were everything he needed to be happy.

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos, @childe-support, @rim0na, @somemothgoingferal

[katzkinder]

Day 8: Melancholy/THANK YOU!

I ended up joining Servamp fandom here on tumblr about... Four years ago now? In 2018, right after moving to a different state and leaving everything I knew behind. I found the anime by complete chance while browsing the Josei tag, and now... Here I am!!

I don’t know where I would be right now without this fandom, I really, truly, don’t. I’ve met so many wonderful, kind, amazing people through this series, rediscovered my love of creation, and made tons of friends!

To everyone who’s been with me on this journey... THANK YOU!

First up, @hello-vampire-kitty thank you for your hard work translating the chapters! I really appreciate the translation notes you add, and how clearly important it is to you to treat this series with the love the English localization won’t /hj

@xchibikai thank you for providing the RAWs! You’ve been doing it for so long, and without you and Kitty, we’d all be totally lost! Not to mention your Tsukimitsu sib art always makes me feel so warm and fuzzy; it’s so cute!

@servamp-announcements Even though you just started, I’m already so grateful! The formatting on posts is really easy to read, and the blog theme is also very easy to navigate! I especially appreciate that you provide sources and links back to the original announcements 🥰

@ryotakun-translations it looks like I can’t tag you, but I still wanted to give my thanks! Commissioning translations from you is always so easy and pleasant, and I know I’m getting quality work when I do.

@kalu-chan Thank you for uploading the interactions from Final Servamp Quest, and the translation for both the White Day routes and Gear of Night Trick! Your doc was super easy to navigate, and it must have taken a long time.

@rubyleaf We haven’t really ever talked before, but I still wanted to take a moment to say thanks!! Your fanfic Guilty Pleasure Friends is AMAZING, and I really admire the dedication it takes to keep updating something like that for so long. I love reading it during long car rides, and the cafe scene to this day brings me so much joy

@crazyanime3 I’ve been taking excellent care of the boys you sent me... Was it already two years ago?? Thank you for helping me start my collection way back when! I still have the little message and doodle you sent along with the buttons, saved somewhere safe

@snowlilys-wife @cottoncanada @shinychxndelure Thank you for being so supportive and accepting! I love talking with you all and hashing out scenarios and headcanons is always really fun! Also, y’all are funny af

@mahi-does-some-art @pomfry @hisakata-resutomoshibi @yarrayora @haru-jje @unwelcomedfox  @revoleotion @xthunderbolt @madburnishes @tipzycat y’all some talented and also incredibly sweet motherfuckers, holy shit. I’m so, so glad I met all of you.

@joydoesathing your genderbend designs are always so creative and I love so, so many of them! I think my favorites are Gil and Hugh. I also love your Virtues au a lot, too! Your eye for character design is incredible, and then you do all that in pen on top of it? Amazing!!

@chayam-chi Your art is so cute! You’re such a sweet person, and so funny, too! I always look forward to seeing you on my dash, and I look forward to seeing where you go from here!!

@danozi1 Your sense of humor and the creepy cuteness of your works always scratch a very specific itch for me, and also you have Good Taste

@mystivio @meiwaku-san Your panel colorings are so good and always leave me floored. Like, coloring goals, full on.

@random-husky I’ve super duper enjoyed everything you’ve posted this week, from your ideas to your compositions, you’re so creative!!

@kiwitheweebartist you’re getting better and better every day! Your little commentary posts and random thoughts are all very cute and it makes me smile whenever I read one.

@kchk-55 @d01110010rr You’re so young, but already so talented?? I’m amazed! I hope good things find you both going forward, and that school and life in general is easy on you. If anyone is mean to y’all, I’ll beat them up!!

@jutsuzuban MIKEY. YOU. I love you!!

@niccodoesart Sushi! I love the way you color; you’re so good with markers! The way you draw feet is so cute ❤

@faith-gigliorosa Your edits are so cool, holy shit. I always look forward to them! Ballad of the mona lisa is still one of my favorites.

@blackrose4242564 @theartcat2 @maria-the-mage @wingedpaperpeachpurse @radioactivesweet @fgfhfhfhf @ourelenabespalovafan @ezuja-deatro @ninjagirl142 @pause143 I see you guys in my notes for practically everything I post and thank you so much for your support!!!

@bluemoonfantasiesiii there’s a lot of things I could say to you and about you. There’s a lot of things I want to express. There’s a lot of moments and talks that I hold dear to my heart, but I think the best way to sum up my feelings towards you, is this... ......... >:3c

... That was a lot of people, huh. |D Sorry if I annoyed anyone with this, but I just... Wanted to express my sincere gratitude to each and every one of you. I’m a better, happier person for each person I’ve met here, and I’ve never quite had this kind of experience within a fandom before. I’m glad Servamp was the first time I held my hand out within an online community to quite this degree, and thank you to every single person who reached back.

A very merry, very belated, HAPPY 10TH ANNIVERSARY to you all!

[queerdiaz]

wreck my plans (that's my man)

A/N: for @fighterkimburgess for the 911holidaygiftexchange2021 from the wonderful @paranoidbean. I'm so incredibly sorry I didn't get this out on Christmas day but, like Maddie in this fic, I had a lot of mishaps along the way. But I'm so happy I can finally gift this to you. Hope you like it. Belated Happy Holidays and Happy New Year :)

you can also read on here

Maddie is determined to make this the best Christmas ever.

Since moving to L.A. she has regained her love for her favorite holiday, but it has recently felt a little...tainted in a way, the guilt of missing Jee-Yun's first Christmas still gnawing at her.

However, she has to keep reminding herself what her therapists, doctors, people in her support group, and everyone else in her life continue to remind her: that she had a mental illness and wasn't in her right state of mind, but even then every choice she made was to protect her daughter. And she had gone to a facility in Boston run by her old boss to get the thorough help she needed for Jee. Everything she does is for her daughter.

So instead of letting the guilt incapacitate her this year she's using it as motivation to give her baby girl the Christmas she deserves. To give Chimney the Christmas he deserves.

And so Maddie has a plan. Having Buck help as Santa's Top Elf - as he dubbed himself. It would be full-proof and nothing will get in her way of making this the best Christmas for her family. Nothing.

The plan is divided into different steps which mostly consist of different activities filled with an exorbitant amount of pictures being taken.

Decorating the tree? Check. Her favorite picture of the night is Howie pulling Jee up in the air, making it look like she's putting the star on herself, both of them giggling. She often finds herself looking at the picture whenever she needs a little serotonin boost.

Take Jee-Yun to see Santa? Check, even though Jee cried at first. But once they decided to take the picture as a family and Chim made silly faces at Jee, they were able to take one of the happiest photos she had ever seen, being another one of her serotonin sources.

And so it went, activity after activity with her family whenever they had the time.

Buck, whose main job as an Elf has been to find cool places for them to go to since he's apparently the "King of Research" - his words not Maddie's, even came up with a whole list that she's still not sure they could cover it all before the season ends but they've been having a blast with.

So far, the Holiday Season already has been pretty amazing, even when some reminders of the past would pop up, but when those moments would happen she and Howie would work through them together. But all in all it's been pretty great, and Maddie can't help but feel the happiest she's been in a long time.

However, the last two steps of the plan are also the biggest, which means they could make or break Christmas in its entirety.

So, of course, with all a lot riding on both of them, it's as the old saying goes: everything that could go wrong would go wrong.

It all happens as she and Chimney, along with the help of Buck and Albert, are preparing the Christmas Eve dinner that she requested to host this year - being the second-to-last step.

First, she forgot to defrost the turkey in time.

But Chimney, being the best supportive partner that she could ask for, pointed out that they are making enough food for the dinner and suggested just adding another easy-made dessert or two. Maddie's sort of secretly glad it turned out that way because she will admit she might've gone too over her head with trying to cook a Christmas turkey for the first time and have it be served to a whole party of people. Plus, she's happy with making another batch of cookies, it being one of hers and Buck's favorite Christmas activities they would make together when they were kids.

At first, after coming up with a solution, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal. Mishaps happen all the time, but they were able to fix it so no harm, no foul.

What Maddie doesn't predict, however, is that one mishap turns into a sorta domino effect of disasters that all lead into them accidentally burning the green bean casserole, making the sprinklers in the apartment go off, drenching all the food waiting on the table.

A stunned silence falls between them all, until Chim breaks it first. "Well, at least the sprinkle system seems up to code."

And just like that, Maddie starts having water works of her own. She hates when she cries, despises it, because it reminds her of the days when she felt her weakest. Even though she has been working on her issues with it with her therapist, it just makes her feel worse about everything.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out." Chimney tries to soothe her, wrapping his arms in a comforting embrace.

She sinks into the hug, letting out a wobbly sigh. "I'm sorry, I just wanted this to be the best Christmas. For Jee. For you."

Howie parts them far enough so he can use one hand to cup her cheek while the other lays firmly on her waist. "It already is. Because we're celebrating it together, as a family."

Maddie closes her eyes, sucks in a deep breath, letting his words and soothing touch calm her. After exhaling, letting go as much of the anxiety and pressure as she can, she nods. "You’re right. It has really been amazing already."

He gives her a beaming smile, the kind that still makes her melt even after all these years. The kind of smile that helps keep her center, helps her feel safe and loved. The kind of smile that is a perfect reminder of why she's doing all this in the first place. That none of this has to be perfect, because they're not perfect, nothing is. What matters is that they're enjoying it, every moment of it, even the not-so-happy moments, together.

The second biggest part of the plan might've gone terribly wrong and she's not even sure how they'll fix it, but they'll find a way. They always do.

Which leads her to the decision to enact the last part of the plan, the biggest of them all.

With the help of Buck and Josh, she had it all planned out to every intricate detail. But it's in this very moment that she realizes that the best and happiest parts of her relationship with Howie hadn't been planned. Hell, even meeting Chimney in the first place hadn't been planned. But in that very first day they met where he was helping move in a then stranger because he worked with and cared for her baby brother, he gave her that giant smile of his while showing her how to set up her security system and Maddie couldn't help but smile back, instantly feeling warm and safe and...giddy. Even through the ups and down, those feelings have only gotten stronger, along with so many wonderful ones as well.

Yes she doesn't have to do this, they're already life partners and a piece of paper won't change that, but through loving Chimney, through him loving her, she's found herself slowly taking steps that she once thought she never would be able to take again. But with his loving support and understanding, never once even trying to push her, Maddie has been able to reach those points. Not out of any obligation, but for her, because she wants to.

Through all that they've been through together and continued to heal through, this is the next step she wants them to take together, and looking into those brown eyes that continue to make her feel safe and warm and giddy, there are no more doubts that he wouldn't want the same.

And so, standing in the middle of their kitchen, soaking wet from the sprinklers, Maddie places her hand on top of his that is still gently caressing her cheek, and asks him, "Will you marry me?"

Chim's entire body freezes underneath her touch, and there's that instant fear that he'll say no or think it's too soon, that they still need to work through some more things before they can reach that point. But it only stays there for a second because Maddie knows Chimney, knows them, and she hasn't been more sure about anything except when she held Jee-Yun in her arms for the first time.

He blinks at her for a few moments, the rest of his face still frozen like a statue before it transforms into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

Feeling infected by his laughter, she lets out one of her own before gently shoving him. "Why are you laughing? I'm being serious."

He shakes his head. "I know, and so am I. I had an entire speech planned."

Maddie raises a confused brow but before she could ask him what he means, they're interrupted.

"I helped!" Albert chimes in from the living room, hand up in the air.

"So did I." Buck happily points out, giving the younger man a high five. "Well, with Maddie's proposal not Chimney's."

Maddie puts her attention fully back on her boyfriend. "Wait, let me get this straight, you were going to propose too?"

"Yeah, I've had it planned out for weeks. Was going to do it tomorrow morning after we opened Jee's presents." Her heart soars at the thought. Damn, that was actually a great time to do it. "When were you? Unless burning the green bean casserole and proposing while being soaked from the sprinklers was always a part of the plan."

Shaking her head, she lets out another laugh, those giddy and warm feelings he always gives her forming tenfold. "No, it was supposed to be tonight when we opened our Christmas Eve presents."

It was a tradition her family had before...before Daniel passed, opening one present on Christmas Eve together. When her parents stopped doing it, Maddie wanted to keep it up, even when she was younger and only had a few presents to give and make. But it always ended up great, especially when Buck was old enough to make homemade gifts of his own and surprise her with them. It even became one of their favorite traditions together. She hadn't done it in years, but brought it back on the first Christmas her and Chimney were officially together even when he had to go to work super early the next day. To her delight, he immediately latched on to the idea and it has now become a Buckley-Han tradition as well.

Chimney nods in approval with a grin. "That's a great proposal moment. But," he pauses, placing both his hands on either side of her waist, "I like this one the best."

She wraps her hands around his neck and starts to lean in. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely." The word is barely out of his mouth before their lips collide into a tender yet lingering kiss. Once they part, he continues. "Oh and that's a yes by the way."

She beams up at him. "Good. Because that's a yes for me too."

His smile mirrors hers. "See? Still Best Christmas ever."

Maddie can't agree more.

Their little moment is interrupted by both of their brothers whistling and clapping in congratulations, Jee even joining in with her joyous laughter as Buck hands her over to Maddie so she can be a part of her parents' engagement.

"You hear that, Jee?" Chimney asks their daughter, tickling her stomach and making her giggle. "Mommy and Daddy are getting married."

Their baby girl makes a happy noise in response, making them all laugh in joy.

Maddie kisses her daughter's forehead before giving her now fiancé a sweet kiss on the lips. Once parting, she then looks around at the mess, but doesn't feel upset at all about it. In fact, she's never been happier.

Following her gaze, Chimney clasps his hands together. "Alright, I think we can still salvage tonight."

"It's okay." Maddie fondly tells him, shaking her head. "I can tell everyone what happened and if they still want to come over, they can. We just won't have dinner. What matters is that we're all together."

"And while that's true, I think I know a way where we can still have a fun dinner without making it stressful."

She raises a curious brow at him. "How?" He mimes zipping his mouth shut, making her huff. "Alright then, keep your secrets."

Chimney gasps overdramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Is that a Lord of the Rings reference? I'm so proud." They both laugh as he gives her a quick peck on the lips. "I love you so much, but shoo."

She mocks offense. "Excuse me?"

"You have done an incredible job planning out and giving us the best Holiday season, but now I'm relinquishing you of your duties so you can get cleaned up and maybe relax a little while me and Santa's elves over here get everything ready."

Maddie's heart is so full it's like it's gonna burst. She leans in, Jee-Yun still firmly placed at her hip, and kisses him once more. "I love you so much, Fiancé."

"I love you too, Fiancé."

Chimney ends up having Jee stay with him, taking Buck's Santa's Top Elf title and giving it to her, but her baby brother doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.

Once Maddie was able to shower, rest, and get ready for the party, she walks out of their bedroom, already hearing people arrive, and gasps at the sight of the table that was once covered in soggy food now replaced with containers of different take-out places.

"Welcome to Buffriday: Christmas Addition." Chimney announces, spreading his arms out on either side of him. "Merry Buffmas!"

Maddie puts her hands over her mouth in gleeful shock. "You didn't?" She asks in disbelief.

He nods, giving her his signature beaming smile. "I did."

"How?"

"Well, while Albert and I cleaned everything up, I had Buckeroo go get takeout for us and we all three split into calling everyone who's coming to explain to them what happened and ask - only if they could - if they were willing to either bring food of their own or get takeout at places that are open. Everyone agreed."

Maddie looks at her guests - her family - in awe, tears forming in her eyes again, but this time she doesn't mind. "You all didn't have to do that."

"Oh, we know." Athena says as she and Bobby walk towards her.

"But we wanted to." The fire captain tells her with the utmost sincerity, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you." She barely manages to get out, voice cracking a bit.

Athena then goes to hug her. "It's what family does."

The night goes on without a hitch, at least none that bothers her, because she's content being with the people who are closest to her and Chim. There are so many people in their apartment - with the 118 family, her dispatch family, the Lees, and even two families from the support group who she and Chimney had gotten close with - that she's not sure if they've passed the fire code limit or at least pushing it. Ironically enough. But half of the people here are firefighters so she'll let her fiancé and his team worry about it.

After everyone's had at least one plate of food, Howie gently grabs her hand and gives her a certain look. She doesn't need to read his mind to know what he's thinking.

She nods and then proceeds to call for everyone's attention. "First, I just want to say thank you for coming and for pitching in. It means a lot." Her voice starts to quiver, but Chim squeezes her hand for support which helps keep her going. "I also wanted to say that Howie and I have an announcement."

Everyone's faces light up in intrigue, but Bobby, Athena, Hen, Eddie, and Josh all wear knowing looks. Which makes her wonder in amusement if either Buck or Albert or even Chimney himself already spilled the beans, or maybe they just know them so well. Either way, Maddie doesn't mind.

"But first." She adds, walking away where her and Chimney were standing and heading to the tree before picking up a small present and turning back toward him.

"Gee, I wonder what it is." Chim exclaims overdramatically.

She rolls her eyes fondly. "Just open it, you dork."

Once he unwraps it he genuinely sucks in a breath. Even though they're already technically engaged, the emotion is still there, as if they're proposing for the first time all over again.

The crowd around them gasps.

"Howard Han. Chimney. My Howie. I love you so much, sometimes it's hard to even fathom how much. We've been through a lot of ups and downs together, but we eventually always came out of the other side and learned and grew - together. Thank you for being my life partner and the father of my child. I love you. I love our daughter. I love the life we created together. So will you give me the best honor in having you as my husband?"

Chimney huffs a tearful laugh. "Damn, your speech really is better than mine."

"That's because she had me help her with it instead of Albert." Buck chimes in, although she can see tears of his own in his eyes.

"Hey!" Albert exclaims in offence.

"Will you two please cut it out?" Chimney chides them. "I'm trying to be proposed to again."

"Again?" Hen asks with a knowing smirk. Yeah Maddie would bet good money that her fiancè already told his best friend, which she doesn't blame him for. She herself had texted Josh about it before the party started.

"We'll explain in a sec." He tells the crowd. "But first." He then turns around and bends down to grab something from a shelf in their TV center.

She smirks. "Nice hiding place."

"Well, at least I hid my engagement ring. You had it just hiding under the tree, easy for me to find."

"Only because I knew you wouldn't go snooping to get a sneak peek under the presents."

Chim hums. "Touchè." He then hands her the small gift. "Here."

She already knows what's in it but eagerly unwraps it anyway to reveal a red engagement ring box. When she opens the box, the gasp she lets out is genuine. A laugh then escapes her. The ring is a simple cut with a small diamond in the middle and small gemstones on either side. "Is this...Jee's birthstone?" He nods, giving her a watery smile. A tear falls down her cheek as she lets out another small laugh. "That's…"

"The same gemstones on the band you gave to me." Chimney concludes for her before chuckling. "You know what they say, great minds think alike."

He then gently places his free hand in the one that isn't holding the ring box. "Maddie." He begins to say, choking up for a second before continuing. "I've spent a long time trying different jobs and careers with none of them working out, but it wasn't until I became a paramedic - not just a firefighter but a paramedic - that it finally clicked. My sorta aha! moment. Meeting you felt like that. As if all the failed relationships, all the heartbreak, led me right to you as I had my aha! moment again. As if my heart started to sing the first time I saw you - and yes I am well aware of how cheesy that sounds. But you know me, sometimes I think cheese can be good." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "But the thing is, my heart never stopped singing, in fact it just grew. When you first came into my life, everything just...clicked. And it continues to do so, through the good, the sad, and the in-between. I love you so much Maddie Buckley, and I am the luckiest man in the world to have you as my life partner, the mother of our child, my love. And I'd continue to be the luckiest man ever and the most honored to be able to call myself your husband. I love you. I love our daughter. I love the life we've built together and will continue to do so. And I love us." He repeats the last words she said in her speech like a promise, like a vow.

And Maddie can't help it, she pulls Chimney closer to her until she can kiss him like no tomorrow, not caring that everyone close to her is watching, which is good because they all start to cheer.

Once they part, they rest their foreheads together. "I think you won." She whispers, making him laugh.

"I definitely did, but not because of my speech."

They then start to put their rings on each other's ring finger.

At the corner of her eye she sees Buck lean into Hen and ask in a not-so quiet whisper. "I'm confused. Did they just propose again or did they actually get married?"

Hen shrugs. "I think it depends if there's a licensed officiant here."

Turns out there isn't. But, even though she and Chim wouldn't mind getting married then and there, the night is amazing already.

And so is Christmas day when it's just her, Howie, and Jee-Yun, opening presents and basking at each other's unintentionally matching engagement rings. They have a nice and relaxed day until Chim has to go to work in the evening and even then they're both happy and content when they kiss goodbye.

As much as Maddie worked to give her family the best Christmas ever, even when some of her plans fell through, it became more than she could ever hope for.

She thinks about this a week later on New Year's Eve, when she and Chimney are eating lunch together after he woke up from a nap after coming home early in the morning from a 36 hour shift, Jee-Yun in her high chair eating with them.

"Hey, Chim?" She asks.

"Hmm?" He hums in question, wiping some food from Jee's face.

"What do you think about getting married?"

He raises a quizzical yet amused brow. "I mean, if the four proposals are any inclination, I very much like the idea, yes." He then pauses for a second before quickly adding, "But if you're having second thoughts about it, or don't want to anymore, I totally get it. We don't need a piece of paper to say what we already know to be true."

"While that's true and as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I still want to get married."

He smiles. "Me too."

Her face mirrors his. "Good, I'm glad. Because, what I meant was...qwhat do you think about getting married...today?"

His eyes widen in shock. "Today?" She nods. "Are you sure?"

"This is one of the few things that I've never been more sure about in my life. Along with the moment I held Jee for the first time, when we officially started our relationship, and our four proposals."

Chimney chuckles before letting out a happy sigh. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Let's get married."

They go to the courthouse, making it about an hour before it closes, and get married in front of a justice of the peace, both taking turns to hold Jee-Yun as they say their vows, deciding to keep their engagement rings as their wedding ones as well.

Later, they go to a New Year's Eve party at Bobby's and Athena's, and because Chimney can't keep a secret for the life of him, everyone finds out the minute they enter the Grant-Nash house. So the New Year's Eve celebration also becomes a sort of wedding celebration in a way, even though Maddie and Chim decide they'll still have a bigger one later.

As Howie twirls her around in a motion she loves oh so much, a smile not leaving her face since they said 'I do', Maddie can't help but think about how even though some plans worked out and some didn't, nothing she planned could predict just how happy she is now. She knows that no matter the ups and downs, the mishaps and ruined plans, those still really low moments in between -and sometimes intertwined with- all the happy ones, as long as she has her family things will always get better - no matter how long or fast it takes to get there. And, if this past week was any inclination, sometimes it turns out better than she could ever imagine.

Maddie then wraps her arms around Howie's neck and gives him a slow and tender kiss before saying. "I love you, my wonderful husband."

He gives her his signature bright Chimney smile that she loves so much and kisses her nose. "I love you, my amazing wife."

And yeah, Maddie can't help but think as she kisses her husband once more, definitely the best Christmas and Holiday Season ever.

[moonyswriting]

Tonight

So there was another birthday a bit back, that I didn't manage to upload anything for. Dani, I'm sorry you had to wait. You're amazing and so I wanted to make you something :)

I hope you like it and happy belated birthday again, @unadulteratedpaperparadise!

Thank you for beta-ing @moonofthenight

Characters by @lumosinlove

Sitting on the couch, Alex waited patiently for his partners to return. They had left to get some eyeliner before Remus and Sirius’ wedding, since someone had insisted black would not match Kasey’s blazer. Which left him here, rewatching his favorite ‘How I Met Your Mother’ episode ‘The Pineapple Incident'.

He heard a key in the lock and turned off the TV, standing up just as Natalie and Kasey opened the door. As soon as they set foot over the doorstep Alex had his arms wrapped around their waists, nearly sending the bag in Kasey’s hand to the floor.

Natalie chuckled, “Seems like we got a dog after all,” she said before tilting her head up and placing a kiss on Alex’s cheek. She took the bag from Kasey and wandered off into the direction of their bathroom.

The older boy’s arms had never left Kasey’s waist, holding him tight and littering the blonde’s face with kisses. “You know, I was going to defend you, babe, about the whole dog thing,” Kasey snorted before tilting his head to lock lips with the shorter, “but you’re practically licking my face, so I’m not sure I will.”

Alex had his puppy eyes mastered though, which didn’t necessarily help him in the process of being perceived less like a dog, but definitely played for him when trying to get someone onto his side. He saw that it worked as Kasey nearly melted into a puddle right in front of him, but shaking out of his state a second after.

“Don’t use that against me. I can’t help myself when you look at me like that and you know it.”

Alex’s eyes turned from almost watery-sad - honestly how did he do that?! - to mischievous in a second, tilting his head and asking, “And what are you going to do about it, love?”

Both of them knew Kasey was defenceless against his boyfriend, but still, one could try, so he put on his goalie face and answered, “Believe me, you don’t want to find out.”

With a deadpan expression that made a smile break straight through the taller one’s mask, Alex just chuckled into Kasey’s shoulder. With a fake offended expression, the blonde looked from his boyfriend to Natalie who had just come back into the living room.

She laughed, probably knowing exactly what had happened.

“Imagine being afraid of you, babe.”

Kasey turned back to Alex, the frown still on his lips. Instead of comfort or an apology, the man still snuggled into his shoulder added a smug, “You see?”

Before Kasey had even begun to complain about his ungrateful partners for his effort, or anything like that a spark had lit in Natalie’s eyes. No one had any time to question that either because she just walked forward taking Alex free hand dramatically, “I see only you.”

After a few seconds of hesitance Alex registered what was going on. Their girlfriend was still holding his hand waiting for a reply.

The red head took a breath and let it out with a chuckle, “Oh, Natalie. See only me.” Kasey groaned as Alex detached himself from his boyfriend and walked into the middle of the room where he was being pulled by Natalie. Kasey decided to go to the bathroom, to try out the new things they had bought, but as he heard his girlfriend's soft voice he froze in his tracks.

"Only you, you're the only thing I'll see forever; In my eyes in my words and in everything I do; Nothing else but you; Ever" her singing echoed through their apartment and looking at Alex, the blonde apparently wasn't the only one whose knees got weak upon hearing that.

While Kasey chose to sit down to deal with that problem, blazing up dreamily at his girlfriend, hoping she'd continue, Alex took a different approach.

The gears in his brain could almost be seen clicking into place before, "And there's nothing for me but Natalie-a; Every sight that I see is Natalie-a"

And if Kasey was fine before, able to think for himself, now he wasn't. It was overwhelming in the best way and he never wanted it to stop. He'd heard Nat sing before, even that song since it's one of her favourites, but hearing Alex sing alongside her was an out-of-this-world feeling. Everything about them was perfect. The way their voices sounded together, the way they fit together so perfectly. He had never doubted they weren't meant to be, but this was proof. It had to be. Since the first moment Nat and Kasey had met, she'd been saying how cool it would be to sing this as a duet with someone. She had never expected Kasey to, they both knew he didn't like singing, but he could see the loving spark in her eyes as with every line of the song, she fell more in love with the red head. Who could blame her, honestly.

Alex had never properly sung for them, only hummed songs while cleaning. But right now, he sang with such ease, knowing almost all the lyrics, and it seemed like he didn't even try.

Alex knew no one would judge him for his singing voice and Kasey could hear the feeling of just letting go and singing without thinking about how it sounds just about how it feels in his boyfriend's voice. He loved it more than anything.

Kasey didn't sing, but he liked listening; to get to experience how talented his lovers really are, to feel the music flow through him as he was filled up with love until he could do nothing more but stare. He didn't even realise they had sung through the whole song, with only minor swallowed lyrics on Alex part, until he snapped out of his dream like daze and heard the last note of the song echo through their apartment. They were both smiling at each other and then turned to him, a bit flushed and he couldn't help bit kiss them both hard.

After they broke the kiss he shot Nat a knowing smile, who was still beaming with joy.

"8 out of 10," she suddenly said, turning both heads back in her direction.

"What?", apparently Alex was just as confused as Kasey.

So, she repeated, "8 out of 10. You have an incredible voice babe and your acting was on point, but the lyrics weren't all there, so this begs for a rewatch," she stated, walking over to their couch, popping down and smiling up at her boyfriends expectantly.

And who were they to deny her her favourite musical after a moment like that.

[crimsonxblaze]

snooze in

hitsuhina week 2021: @hitsuhina-week (belated) gift exchange 

rating: k for: @canariie author’s note: hello! i’m so sorry this is so late, but i hope you enjoy this domestic fluff piece! i haven’t written hitsuhina in years but i still adore them as much as ever, so i hope this is as in character as possible. 

The rays of the bright morning sun kiss his sleeping figure, urging him to return to consciousness. A soft groan escapes his lips as he forces his eyes to open, slightly disoriented by the sudden waking. He blinks a few times, his vision soon clearing as he stares up at the ceiling. It doesn’t take long for him to finally comprehend his surroundings. 

He can hear the soft snores of her next to him, alongside the incredible warmth snuggled against his side. His arm feels a little sore after supporting most of her weight, but he doesn’t dare move. Instead, he twists his head only slightly to look down at her, coming face to face with a mop of dark brown tresses. 

It appears she’s only shifted closer to him during the night, remaining glued to his side as he feels one of her legs stretched on top of him. He doesn’t really mind though; having Momo wrapped up in his arms is his favourite place to be.

But as he glances at the clock hanging on the wall facing their bed, he knows he cannot stay here much longer. There is far too much paperwork he still has to complete thanks to Matsumoto’s regular indolence, and Ise has sent each division notices about overdue documents needing to be completed. 

Toshiro lets out a soft grumble in irritation at the thought. 

He really doesn’t want to leave Momo here alone in bed when it’s supposed to be their day off. He knows she’ll understand his reasons for departing so soon, she always does. But for once, he’d like to neglect his duties if it meant he could have a few more minutes with her. 

A quick glance at the clock again tells him that his time is up, and there’s no room for further delay. Perhaps if he finished this fast enough, he could return to Momo’s warm arms. 

With that thought in mind, Toshiro gathers up the resolve to leave the cocoon of warmth he’d been engulfed in. He glances around for a way to move without waking her, only to find that she’s snuggled even closer into his side. 

Toshiro smiles to himself a bit. 

Five years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined she’d be such a clingy sleeper. They may have slept in the same room as children while living with their grandma, but that was different. Obaa-san had always opted to sleep in the middle as she let them cuddle against her. 

Since then, they’d never shared the same sleeping quarters until Momo had asked to move in with him. That first night had been admittedly quite awkward. Toshiro hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries by accidentally taking over her side of the bed (he’d been told by obaa-san before that he was a bit of a blanket hog), so he had placed a pillow in between them while Momo was getting ready.

He could remember her reaction to it very clearly, her expression shifting from shock to disappointment, to slight hurt, and he hadn’t known how to remedy it. 

“Toshiro-kun?” she’d asked, unmoving from the door as she stared at the set up of their bed.

“Yeah? What’s wrong, Momo?” he asked, a bit hesitant. 

She turned to look at him, biting her lip. 

“Are we sleeping with that pillow in the middle tonight?”

He scratched the back of his neck, taken aback by her disappointed reaction. He’d thought that she was aware of his blanket problem, or maybe a bit uncomfortable with sharing the bed so soon since they hadn’t for a long while now. But apparently not.

“I thought it would be more convenient for you, but I can remove it.”

She frowned, “Convenient? Why?”

“Are you not uncomfortable with sharing the bed already?”

“I was the one who asked to move in with you, Toshiro-kun. I wouldn’t have asked if I were uncomfortable with sleeping with you,” she explained, the hurt dissipating into understanding. 

“Both ways,” she muttered under her breath, so softly that anyone else with untrained hearing wouldn’t have heard. But he had, and the tips of his ears turned red at the thought. They hadn’t reached that stage yet, but he could foresee it happening in the near future. 

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding, Momo,” he apologised sincerely, “I should have asked you first.”

She smiled at him, shaking her head as she moved over to the bed. Momo lifted the pillow dividing the bed and placed it above hers, climbing into the bed. 

“It’s alright, Toshiro-kun. But now that’s out of the way, I can do this.”

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting but certainly not Momo boldly wrapping her arms around him to cuddle as she tangled their legs together. Toshiro had noticed that since the beginning of their relationship, maybe a little while before that, she’d grown somewhat bolder. It was a refreshing development, seeing the usually so polite and shy Momo grow more confident in herself again. 

This confidence included taking a lot of initiative in their relationship, much to his surprise. He was usually the more direct one of the two, but Momo had switched their positions and swept him off his feet. He wasn’t complaining though. 

Toshiro would never admit it out loud, but Matsumoto had been right. If Momo hadn’t made the first move, he wouldn’t have made one to begin with. He hadn’t wanted to burden her with his feelings, not since she was still recovering from Aizen’s betrayal. All he’d wanted was to ensure she was safe and happy, even if it wasn’t with him. 

Yet as luck would have it, she’d found both with him.

And he would spend his long years of living ensuring that she always would.

When he woke up the next morning, he’d found Momo still snuggled in his arms, as though she hadn’t moved the entire night. It was then that he began to realise that he’d been an idiot for thinking she would be uncomfortable. All this time, she’d wanted the same thing as he: to fall asleep and wake up in each other’s arms. 

It’s unfortunate that this morning however, Momo would be subjected to an empty bed as he’s forced to attend to work duties early on. That is, if he’s even able to wriggle out of her hold. 

One of her arms spread across his chest has tightened around him, leaving him unable to slide out without prying her hands off him. Instead, he decides to work on freeing his legs first. Perhaps that will cause her to roll over just a little. 

With much effort, Toshiro begins his escape. Fortunately for him, Momo isn’t applying as much pressure with her leg as she had been, allowing him to slide one of his legs away. He awkwardly tries to slide his other leg away, his right foot already brushing the edges of the wooden floor. 

He’s only managed to free both his legs from under her when the hand across his chest grips onto his shirt, giving him pause. Toshiro looks down to see her tugging him back, the leg sprawled over him moving beneath the sheets to find his freed legs. Her eyes are still closed but she seems intent on keeping him in bed. 

“Where are you going, Shiro-chan?” he hears her sleepily ask, her voice croaky from hours of misuse. She grips tighter on his shirt, trying to pull him closer to her. 

“I have to finish off some paperwork, Momo,” he tells her gently, although without resisting her effort to pull him back. After all, how can he resist her?

Momo still doesn’t open her eyes, instead shaking her head. She shifts closer to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. The scent of peaches wafts strongly against his nose, a scent he’s strongly acquainted with home. 

The more she acts like this, the more his resolve to step out of bed dwindles. 

“Rangiku-san can do it,” she mumbles, her warm breath fanning against his neck.

He hums softly, bending his head down to press a soft kiss against the top of her head. 

“It’s because of her that I have to do it myself.”

Momo buries her face against him even more, shaking her head. She swiftly locks her legs around him, catching him off guard with her iron grip. It’s not often that he experiences her being so possessive, but he quite enjoys the experience. 

“Stay with me, Shiro-chan,” she says, squeezing his side. 

“Momo, I-”

“Please?” 

He can just imagine the pout she’s sporting without even seeing her face, and immediately his resolve disappears. It’s not as though he’d been putting up much of a fight anyway. Ise and the paperwork can wait, there are more important matters for him to attend to.

With that in mind, he surrenders completely to Momo’s warmth. 

Toshiro pushes himself back into the bed, shifting to get comfortable again. He turns a little on his side, allowing himself to scoop her into his arms as he holds her tight against him. Now that he’s much taller, Momo feels so petite in his arms. 

Momo squeezes him as he rests his chin on top of her, sighing. He closes his eyes. 

Matsumoto can take care of the work just as she should’ve. This is where he’s supposed to be.

His whole body relaxes. Toshiro’s breath simultaneously evens out with Momo’s and the pair soon surrender to the welcome embrace of a morning slumber. 

//

As though it’s déjà vu, the sun's rays shine brightly against her eyelids. It pulls her from the depths of her peaceful sleep, forcing her back into reality. With great effort, she flicks an eye open, wincing at the bright light before she opens the other. She blinks furiously, trying to readjust to her surroundings.

Her body feels awfully heavy, both from hours of oversleeping and the strong arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Momo looks down to see Toshiro’s arm clutching her waist, and she smiles to herself. 

Normally neither are too touchy in public, but once they’re alone and away from prying eyes, she can become particularly clingy. But she’s not the only one. Over the years they’ve spent together as lovers, she’s come to learn that her Toshiro really enjoys placing her arm around her waist. 

He’s also especially fond of spooning her in bed, with him as the big spoon as he keeps her enveloped in his arms. They hadn’t exactly spooned last night, but she can just tell that neither had separated from each other’s side despite the sheer size of their bed. 

Momo’s gaze shifts from his arm to look right at his face, her smile growing fonder. His peaceful look is something she’s only privy to, especially when he’s known to always glare or look somewhat grumpy to his subordinates. But during sleep is when he finds true peace, allowing himself to be fully vulnerable under her watchful eye. 

She knows that she could probably stare at his face all day if she could, but he’s particularly sensitive to her gazes. Sometimes she’ll just be staring at him from afar, and suddenly his eyes will snap to hers with a brow raised. 

Though interestingly enough, he hasn’t seemed to notice her staring yet. Surely he should be awake by now?

“Are you enjoying yourself, Momo?”

His husky voice, ridden with hours of sleep, startles her that she almost jumps in surprise. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but she can see the faintest curl of the sides of his lips. 

She pouts, lightly pushing his shoulder. “How long have you been awake?”

He opens a turquoise eye to look at her. 

“Long enough.”

Momo reaches forward to gently caress the side of his face, watching as he nuzzles his cheek against her palm. 

“I did though.”

“Hmm?”

“I enjoyed looking at your sleeping face, Shiro-chan,” she admits, her gaze never leaving him. 

He raises a brow, cheeks beginning to flush a little pink. 

“You did?”

Momo nods, smiling at him. “You’re very relaxed and peaceful when you sleep.” She lightly traces the dip between his eyebrows. “There are also no wrinkles,” she teases.

“I don’t have wrinkles.”

She raises a brow, her eyes twinkling in mischief. “Are you sure you don’t? You do tend to frown a lot.”

“You can blame Matsumoto for that.”

At the mention of Rangiku’s name, Momo’s eyes widen. She can vaguely recall having woken up earlier this morning actually, but she remembers Rangiku’s name being spoken clearly.

She tears her gaze away to look at their wall clock, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

Toshiro moves slightly to sit up, looking at her. “What’s wrong, Momo?”

She looks at him, her eyes still wide. Oh no. It’s already two o’clock, far later than either of them have ever slept before. Not to mention that she’d seen the notice Ise had given his division on Friday about the overdue paperwork that needed to be completed and submitted by three o’clock on Sunday. 

It was highly unlikely that Rangiku had done it herself, leaving Toshiro in charge of the matter. But he had been here with her this whole time, sleeping.

Momo bites her lower lip in guilt. 

“It’s already two…”

He raises a brow, nodding slowly. “It is.”

“Toshiro-kun, don’t you remember? You had those stacks of paperwork you needed to submit by three today. I’m not too sure Nanao-san will be too happy about the delay.”

Toshiro doesn’t reply immediately, opting to gaze at her silently for a few moments. It slightly bothers her, the way his expression doesn’t change as he stares, and how he hasn’t said anything yet. Is she the only one who sees the issue here?

Then suddenly, he shakes his head as he lets out a soft chuckle. 

Momo blinks, confused.

“Toshiro-kun?”

“Did you really think I didn’t remember?”

She frowns. “I know you wouldn’t, but I don’t understand why you’re still here then if that’s the case.”

He reaches out to lightly ruffle her already messy morning hair, catching her off guard. Why is he acting so nonchalant about this?

“That’s because of you.”

“Me?”

He nods. “Yes, you.”

Momo scrunches her nose, pointing to herself. “I don’t understand how I could be the reason when I’ve been asleep this whole time.”

“No, you woke up earlier when I did.”

“I did?”

Toshiro nods, “I tried to get up to do that paperwork but then someone refused to let me go.”

She blinks at the revelation, frowning.

“I don’t remember that.”

“I don’t expect you to.” 

He shrugs, sitting up more to rest his back against the headrest.

“But you did pull me back to bed and told me to stay with you. You also said that Matsumoto would do the paperwork.”

Ah, that must be why she remembers Rangiku’s name. She’d uttered it out loud earlier this morning, as a protest against Toshiro leaving her side according to him. 

The truth makes her blush in slight embarrassment. She knows she can be clingy, but never to this extent. Momo only hopes that he hadn’t minded it. It’s her fault now that Toshiro couldn’t do his work. 

But before she can look down and allow herself to take all the blame, Toshiro’s hand comes to gently tilt her chin up to look at him. She blinks, staring into his eyes in confusion, but his eyes are warm.

He rubs her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t blame yourself, Momo.”

“But I-”

He shakes his head before she can fully protest.

“I wasn’t putting up much of a fight either. I didn’t exactly want to spend my Sunday morning doing paperwork Matsumoto should’ve done when I could be staying in bed with you, so I’m glad you asked me to stay.”

Toshiro leans forward to press a soft kiss against her forehead, Momo closing her eyes at the contact. His lips are warm to the touch, far less chapped than anyone would initially expect. They’re soft and supple and feel especially good against her own. 

“I don’t think Rangiku-san’s finished it. She probably forgot.”

He cracks a smile as he pulls away, nodding in agreement. “I don’t expect her to have remembered it either. But it doesn’t matter. The paperwork is Matsumoto’s responsibility first and foremost, not mine.”

She scrunches her nose when she realises his train of thought, lightly swatting his shoulder. 

“Shiro-chan, that’s rude.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? It’s been decades but she still hasn’t changed.”

Momo can’t find room to argue when it’s true. As a lieutenant, completion of a majority of the division’s paperwork fell under their job description, not the captain’s. While lots of captains and lieutenants tried to divide the work between them, oftentimes the captain became too distracted with other responsibilities that the burden fell on their vice’s shoulders instead. 

Luckily for her, Shinji was pretty good at multitasking. He often tried to lessen the load on Momo by doing as much as he could, which she was grateful for. On the other hand, Rangiku had never been known to enjoy paperwork or administrational duties like she had. Rather, she had a particular tendency to drink large amounts of sake when she could, leaving her unable to complete her duties. 

As a result, Toshiro had often been burdened by doing everything himself. Momo tried to pop by and help him a couple of times, but he was stubbornly against her help. He’d argued that she did enough paperwork on her own already, he wasn’t about to let her do some more. 

Even still, she could see how much it drained him sometimes. Rangiku had been getting better at doing it over the years, but she still had her habits. 

“Mm, I suppose so,” she admits quietly, sitting up next to him to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“So a day for sleeping in with you shouldn’t be a problem. Kyoraku won’t mind.”

She nods in agreement. Kyoraku was a lot less strict than Yamamoto had been, while Nanao had become his stricter right hand. 

“I think we should do this again.”

“Do what again?”

Momo smiles at him, “Sleep in again. We’ve never woken up this late before.”

Toshiro muses to himself quietly, before letting out a soft hum. They are both quite early birds, though Momo liked to sleep in a little more whenever she had her days off. 

“Alright then.”

She grins, wrapping her arms around one of his. “How about we also stay in bed the whole day today?”

“The whole day?”

“You don’t have anything planned today do you?” She raises a brow at him, only to be met by a shake of the head. 

“Not that I recall, no.”

“Good,” Momo smiles. “Then yes, we can stay in bed the whole day today. It’s called a Lazy Sunday, Shiro-chan.”

“What about food? Don’t we need to eat?”

“I can ask someone to get us food. Are you hungry right now?”

Toshiro shakes his head, “Not at the moment. But I think you are.”

At that, her stomach begins to let out a low growl, yearning for food to quench its hunger. Momo’s hands immediately fly to cover her stomach in embarrassment, her cheeks burning up.

He only looks at her with a slight smirk, to which she pouts as she swats him away. 

“I may be a little hungry.”

“That doesn’t sound like a little.”

She huffs, “Okay maybe not. But I’ll go ask someone to get us food first.”

Before Momo can call out however, he places a hand over hers. She looks at him with a brow raised. 

“How about we go get something to eat together, and go back to bed when we’re done?”

Truthfully she doesn’t want to leave the bed at all, but the longer she sits here, the louder her stomach cries. It continues to prod her for food and she doesn’t want to reach the point where her stomach starts to ache from hunger.

Momo sighs in reluctance. “I guess we’ll have to.”

Toshiro eyes her in amusement. “We’ll come straight back here after, Momo. Don’t worry.”

He begins to open the covers, slipping out of the bed in one fluid movement. Toshiro extends a hand out to help her get up, grasping her hand tightly to keep her steady. 

“And then we can have our Lazy Sunday?”

He nods, kissing her temple. “And then we can have our Lazy Sunday.”

Momo grins to herself, squeezing his hand tight. Today is looking to be a really good day. 

[marjansmarwani]

I’m far away, but I am right there 

1.6k || ao3

While TK is fighting the wildfire Carlos does his best not to worry. Mostly, he fails. Fortunately for him, he has someone on his side too. ---- Missing moment (I'd like to think) from 2x03

A slightly belated gift for the wonderful @lonestarbabe! I originally was working on something completely different, but I wanted to give you something with some Mya. I hope you enjoy it 💕

Beta’d by @officereyes and title courtesy of @firefighterstrand 

----------------

The weeks-long battle against the San Angelo fire continues at this hour, with officials now saying the blaze has consumed more than 180,000 acres with less than 5% containment. 

They had the news on again. 

Carlos did his best to ignore it, willing himself to focus solely on his paperwork and nothing else. 

Response teams are exhausted, most of them having been in this fight for days now in dangerous and inhospitable conditions, grabbing what little rest they can, here on the front lines of this inferno. 

But it was hard when all his brain wanted to do was worry about TK. His boyfriend was 200 miles from home on the front lines of the worst wildfire in Texas history, and tidbits of information like that were not helpful in lessening his worry.

At first he told himself it would be fine, it would just be a day or two before they’d have the fires under control. But as one day stretched into several and then became a week, it became harder with each passing breath to not focus solely on this fear. He wondered if this is how his past boyfriends had felt about his job. Secretly he doubted it; not because of the lack of risks, but because of their lack of investment. But if they had ever felt even an inkling of this, he was sorry he had put them through that. 

Distantly someone made a smartass comment about the coverage and Carlos clenched his jaw in an effort to not bite their head off. He was writing with just a little bit more force than usual when the chair beside his desk was suddenly filled as his partner plopped down next to him, eyebrows raised: “you look like a walking tension headache.” 

“With observation skills like that it’s a wonder you haven’t made detective yet.” 

Mya raised an eyebrow at his tone and his words, “and so pleasant too.” 

Carlos put down his pen and sighed, running a hand down his face before turning to face her, “I’m sorry, I’m just a little…”

“Tense? Worried? Acting like a dick?” Mya provided helpfully. 

“Yes, yes, and I’m sorry,” Carlos replied, glancing over his shoulder at the news footage still running, “I just hate thinking about it. I hate that he’s facing that,” he gestured to news currently showing what seemed to be just acres of flames and a permanently smoke-filled sky, “and there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

Mya’s expression softened as she leaned closer, “I hate to break it to you Carlos, but you’re human. Those feelings come with the territory. Especially when you’re in love.” 

That caught Carlos’s attention. He had returned to his paperwork, but now he faltered in his writing, pen pausing on the form he was filling out, freezing before he slowly looked up to meet his partner’s knowing and marginally smug expression. He shook his head, “I’m not...I never said…” 

Now Mya scoffed, “Please. Like it’s not painfully obvious to everyone but the two of you.” 

She looked at him expectantly, but Carlos was quiet after her words and her knowing grin shifted into a frown, “That’s not a bad thing, Carlos. You two love each other. In most universes, we call that a good thing.”

Carlos was quiet again before he turned to look at her, “yeah, I know.”

She waited but he didn’t elaborate. “And?” she prompted, “I feel like there’s a but.” 

“But,” he agreed, “I just never really thought about it before, you know?” 

She still looked puzzled but when he glanced at the news again, something seemed to click in her mind: “You’ve never said it to him.” 

Carlos peeled his eyes away from the new footage to meet hers once again, “No,” he agreed quietly, “I haven’t.”    

“And now you’re doing your pessimist thing and wondering if maybe you won’t have the chance now.” 

“I am not a pessimist,” Carlos objected hotly before deflating, “but yes. I mean, Mya, he’s on the front lines of the worst wildfire in Texas history. And he’s an incredible danger magnet. I’m just…” 

“Worried,” Mya finished, and Carlos nodded. “Got any advice for that?” he asked in what he hoped was a joking tone, but judging by her expression, he failed. 

“Trust him.” 

He looked at her sharply and she shrugged, “What? You two are the type of couple I use to remind myself love does exist and it’s not all a con by the wedding industry. I don’t really think the universe will pull you two apart just yet. TK is good at what he does, don’t forget that.” 

“I know he is, but…” 

Mya scowled at him and picked up one of the paperclips on his desk to flick at him. He swatted it away and gave her a look of indignation, “what was that for?” 

“For being a pessimist again. Stop it. There’s no use dwelling on the worst. Have a little faith, Carlos.” 

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be the one telling me off for being a pessimist.”

“Neither did I, but here we are. I don’t like it either, so you better get out of this funk ASAP.” 

Carlos rolled his eyes but was distracted by the sound of his phone vibrating on his desk. Mya followed his gaze to it as he picked it up, “Is that him?” 

He shook his head as he read the message, frown deepening, “no, it’s his mom.” 

“You’re texting his mom? And you’re having doubts about your feelings for him?” 

“I never said I was having doubts about my feelings,” Carlos countered, “and it’s practical. He doesn’t get a lot of time to make calls so we keep each other updated when one of us hears from him.” 

“What does he have to say? Are they wrapping up?” 

“No,” Carlos said grimly, setting down his phone, “his dad is missing in action.” 

“What?”

“Apparently he was doing an aerial search and his helicopter went down, inside the active burn zone.”

“Shit.”

The two partners sat in silence for a few moments before Carlos finally asked the question echoing in his mind, “what are the chances TK doesn’t end up going after him, even though he was told to stand down?” 

“Little to none.” 

Carlos sighed, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose, “that’s what I thought.” 

“Hey,” Mya said bracingly, leaning forward, “don’t forget what we just said. Your boy’s smart and good at what he does. And he has something pretty special to come home to. He’s not going to do anything stupid. Well, nothing really stupid,” she amended when Carlos gave her a skeptical look, “he’s going to be fine, and back before you know it.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Carlos replied quietly, “you have no idea how much I hope you’re right.” 

Mya gave him a sad smile, leaning across his desk to place a comforting hand on his arm, “Lucky for you, I usually am.”

Despite everything, he smiled, “Yeah,” he agreed, “you usually are.” 

“I am so glad to know you have finally admitted my brilliance,” she quipped with a grin, “but that also means you should believe me when I say that it’s going to be fine. You just need to believe in him, and trust him.”

Carlos was quiet again for a few moments before he responded, voice thick with emotion, “I do,” he told her, “I do believe in him and trust him. More than anyone else.” 

“Then all that’s left for you to do is wait, and be ready to be there for him when he gets home.” 

Carlos turned his head, glancing at the news coverage again. It still looked like hell on earth, and he still hated the thought of TK anywhere near it, but Mya was right. About so many things. He did love TK, and he intended to tell him. But that would have to wait for when he came home, and Carlos would be ready for him. For whatever he needed. 

“Thank you,” he told Mya, “really.” 

Mya smiled at him: a sweet and sincere thing. She rose from the chair beside his desk, squeezing his arm as she moved away, “Anything for you two. I’m rooting for you, you know. Can’t have my favorite couple falling apart on my watch.” 

“Are you shipping us?”

“Who isn’t?” 

With that, she turned to leave and Carlos called after her, “Just wait until you find that someone. I am never going to give you a moment of peace so you’ll know exactly how it feels.” 

“That is a risk I am willing to take,” Mya called over her shoulder. 

Carlos rolled his eyes at her, still smiling at her antics until his gaze caught the phone in his hand once again and he could feel the fear rise up again. He knew Mya was right, TK was good at what he did. That didn’t quell the fear; the enormous weight of knowing someone you loved was in need of help that you couldn’t provide. It made him feel helpless, and Carlos Reyes did not like feeling helpless. 

Mya was right about something else too, he thought as he put his phone down and forced his focus back to the task at hand. His boyfriend would come back home. And when he did, he would need someone to lean on. Carlos fully intended to be that something, but until then he just needed to trust TK. 

In so many ways trust and love were the same thing; so as long as he loved him, he could trust him too.  

[sinsatmidnight]

Cream

Pairing - Irene (Bae Joohyun) x Male Reader

Words - 2293

Sins - Smut, clothed sex, mutual masturbation

So it’s probably past Irene’s birthday already in all time zones, going by KST I’m about 13-14 hours late to post this during March 29, but a belated happy birthday to Bae Joohyun anyway! So I decided to write two works of her as a birthday special. The first is here, and the second is a female reader insert with a different plot that also ties in with the birthday theme, but that one will be up later as I rushed to finish at least one ASAP. I’m of course, still working on other works as well!

Birthday gifts. They’re one of the hardest things to find in the world. At least, they are if you care about the reaction of the person receiving it. And when that person is the love of your life, you care a lot. Of course, they’re hard enough to get for most people. When your girlfriend is a businesswoman rich enough to buy damn near anything she could possibly want, it just gets harder.

Two whole months before her birthday, you started looking for gifts. Weeks of trawling online shopping websites and apps gave you nothing. And so, you went out. Went into malls and shops and listened to recommendations from people selling shoes, dresses, gems and more. Didn’t find anything that felt right. About a week before a birthday, you finally settled on something. You would have to personally make the gift for her.

Which explains why you were in the kitchen baking a red velvet cake on the morning of your girlfriend’s birthday. You knew that her favourite type of cake was red velvet and you spent a lot of timing poring over online recipes to select what would hopefully be the best one. Will she like it? You certainly hope so.

You lived together but she was out working, so you had the house to yourself. You were done by lunch, so you spent some time after lunch getting some chores done, cleaning the house and such. And then you prepared dinner and packed it up for your girlfriend, Irene. She had earlier told you that she would be working late. And that is why you packed the cake in a box and bringing along with the food for dinner, dropped by her company to surprise her.

You eventually arrive at her company, navigating your way through the offices and workspaces. You find the rest of her entirely female team working outside her office. You know them well and have met them on many occasions. You gently knock a couple times on a desk. The four young women look up from their computers.

“Oh, you’re here for Irene? She’s in her office.”

“Sorry ladies, can I borrow her for about forty-five minutes? It’s her birthday, I baked her a cake and she hasn’t had dinner.”

The four of them shoo you towards Irene’s office. “Yeah, we know. Go, we won’t disturb you for a bit, don’t worry!”

“Thanks girls.”

You walk over to Irene’s office and knock on the door.

“Is that you Joy? Come in.” You hear your girlfriend’s voice, a little muffled by the door, mistaking you for one of her subordinates outside. You open the door and walk in, closing it shut behind you. You stand at the door, looking at Irene reading some sort of document with her back to you.

You’ve always wondered you have been lucky enough to have such a wonderful woman as your girlfriend. Irene turns heads. All heads. She’s not tall but knows how to make her legs look long and the word most people use to describe her face is ‘goddess’. Large eyes, fair skin, long sharp nose, long smooth dark hair. The fact that she’s a tough as nails businesswoman who’s very sweet in private only adds to her charm.

Irene’s dressed simply today, just a simple long-sleeved white shirt and short pink skirt plus heels of the same colour today. The skirt has a slit at the side that shows you more of those smooth thighs you enjoy caressing so much, a detail which you appreciate. But she’s gorgeous no matter what she wears, and even when she’s wearing nothing at all.

“Joy, do you have the- “

Irene’s voice stops short as she realises that her boyfriend has just walked in. Her mouth opens a little in surprise, but she recovers quickly and a smile graces those incredibly kissable red lips of hers.

“What are you doing here, baby?”

You raise the bag that contains the food you prepared for her. “Hi, bae. I brought dinner.” You call her “bae” as an affectionate nickname, but mostly because it’s a play on her surname of “Bae”. You’re the only person in the world she allows to call her that. And only in private.

Irene walks over to you and glances at the large box you’re carrying. “And that?”

“It’s cake, don’t tell me you forgot it’s your birthday today!”

“Oh, where did you buy it from? There’s no branding on the box.”

You grin and pass the box into Irene’s hands. “I didn’t buy it. I baked it this morning.” Irene’s face brightens. “You baked it?” She opens the box and looks inside. “And it’s red velvet cake too.” She doesn’t say anymore, but you can tell that she’s happy.

You bring the food over to a glass coffee table at a seating area that Irene uses when hosting guests in her office. Irene follows you and sits down on a red couch as you unpack all the food. She goes for the cake first though, taking a few bites of it. As she eats, you stand behind the couch and lean over, massaging her shoulders. Irene sighs in contentment.

“Long day?”

She nods as your fingers squeeze her shoulder muscles. You can feel her relaxing under your hands.

“What about you?”

“Just baking and cooking. A bit of this and that. Nothing too bad. Nothing compared to you, I’m sure.”

“Working in the house can be tiring too. The cake’s really good, by the way. But it’s missing a little something.”

“Like what?” Feedback was good, you could take it and make something better for her next time. Irene turns her head to the side, half-facing you. “I think it could use some cream.”

You furrow your brow at this. There was already a healthy amount of cream on the surface of the cake. “But there’s already-ah.” Irene chose that moment to have one of her hands reach out to one of your hands, guide it off her shoulder and bring it to her mouth. You were completely distracted and didn’t resist, barely noticing that it happened.

And then Irene starts to slide one of your fingers in and out of her warm and wet mouth, her tongue brushing against the underside of it every time it slides in. You watch for a good thirty seconds or so before she then turns to face you fully and stands up. There is a dark glint in her eyes. You know this look. You watch her undo the top three buttons of her shirt, giving you glimpses of the lacy white bra she’s wearing today.

Oh, you know what kind of cream she wants from you now. You can feel yourself start to harden down below.

Irene wordlessly reaches out with one hand, grabs your collar and pulls you in to smash her lips against yours. Her tongue pushes past any resistance from your lips, overpowering your tongue in moments. Her kiss is sweet; the taste of the red velvet cake you baked lingers on her tongue and in her mouth.

Still joined at the mouth, you climb over the couch, stepping on it as you make your way to be on the same side as Irene. Once there, one of your hands reflexively finds its way to a butt cheek and squeezes it while you wrap your other arm around her waist. Irene moans softly into your kiss. When you finally break the kiss, Irene and you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. And then she wraps her arms around your neck, holding onto your shoulders, hugging you close and whispers into your ear.

“Let’s make this quick; I still need to have dinner and work after this.”

“The door’s not locked.” You try to pull away to go to the door and lock it but Irene holds you back.

“I don’t care. Now.”

You nod and Irene wraps her legs around your waist as you carry her over to a mostly empty table at the side of the room. You sit her down on it and her legs release their grip on your waist. One of your hands runs up along her legs and sneaks inside her skirt between her thighs.

As your fingers caress her smooth inner thighs, Irene has one of her hands massage the growing bulge in your pants for a bit before she unzips them and has her hand slip inside your pants. Your fingers reach the lacy fabric of the G-string thong she’s wearing, her fingers find purchase on the waistband of your underwear. Irene’s always loved wearing G-string underwear, they make her feel sexy and in her own words, “she loves the feeling of something between her ass cheeks”.

You slip your fingers around the thin barrier of the thong and into Irene’s slick pussy, she shivers and bites her lower lip. Her fingers respond in kind, and they pull down the cloth that kept your erection imprisoned. Irene starts to stroke your cock with one hand, gentle and slow for now. Your thumb gently teases Irene’s clitoris and your other hands journeys into her partially unbuttoned shirt, diving beneath the bra to find a hardened nipple. You roll it between two fingers even as another two fingers bend and wriggle down below.

Irene starts increasing the speed of her handjob, stroking ever faster, urged on by your hands. On your part, you start to piston your fingers into her dripping core as best as you can within the confines of her tight skirt. Irene can’t hold back and starts to moan louder; you frantically send your hand from her breast over to cover her mouth to muffle her. Her subordinates are working just outside; you prefer to keep it quiet.

After a good minute or so of muffled moaning into your hand, Irene uses her free hand to pull yours off her mouth. She stares at you with a dark lust clouding her face. “Fuck me.”

You scramble to oblige. Your fingers leave Irene’s pussy, drawing a soft mewl of desire from her, and they grab hold of her panties to pull them down her legs. Once they reach the ankles, Irene has one heeled foot slip out of them and she leaves the underwear dangling from the other ankle. She unclasps her skirt to loosen it and make it easier to hike it up her thighs to give your cock access to her wet cunt.

You pull Irene closer to you, sitting her on the edge of the table, spread her legs as widely as you possibly can with her skirt still on, and then you slide your cock inside of her. Irene’s tight, wet pussy is a familiar feeling, but it only gets better the more you’re inside her.

Your hips start to piston and your cock pounds as deep as you can manage into Irene’s pussy. One of Irene’s most sensitive spots is her neck, so you bury your face into her neck and take in the scent of her perfume. You taste the slight bit of sweat that has formed on her skin. Your licking and nibbling has Irene loudly groaning again so your mouth kisses its way up her neck until you find her lips and muffle her mouth with yours.

You can feel your climax approaching but Irene’s comes first as she suddenly goes still, and her nails threaten to tear your shirt as her fingers clench around your shoulders. The warm rush of Irene’s juices flowing around your cock combined with her pussy walls constricting your cock sends you over the edge and you also unload a few spurts into her without warning, mixing your cum with hers.

The two of you take a few moments to recover, each peppering the other with soft kisses all over the other’s skin as you do so. When you finally pull out, Irene slides herself off the edge of the table to get on her knees and starts to clean your cock by sucking it clean of your mixed cum.

“There’s not much cream here.” Irene pouts cutely after she finishes with your shaft.

You can only chuckle at that as you slip your spent cock back into your pants. “Happy birthday, Joohyun.”

Irene flashes you a wide smile as she gets back to her feet and slips her thong back on. “Thank you, for everything that you do, baby. You should go home and rest…” She leans and breathes into your ear. “…you also owe me more cream tonight, I’m not satisfied.”

You help Irene button her shirt and give her a peck on the cheek and whisper back. “I feed you cream for skincare and food nearly every night, when will you ever be satisfied?” You step back and wave goodbye to her. “Make sure you have your dinner before you go back to work, okay? I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You turn back for a last look at Irene as you reach the door and her lips mouth the word ‘Never’ very slyly at you. You laugh and push the door open. And walk straight into all four of Irene’s subordinates standing outside the room with very flush faces. You intuitively gather that they’ve been listening in.

“Good night everyone, don’t work too late tonight. I’ll be off now.” To spare both you and the ladies awkwardness, you quickly excuse yourself and walk hurriedly to the elevator.

Once you are alone in the elevator, your thoughts turn to home. Looks like you’ll be giving Irene an additional birthday gift of cream tonight. It turns out that you didn’t need to look very far to find the perfect birthday gift for your girlfriend.

[a-box-of-scraps]

IronDad LGBTQ+ Fic Recs

Happy Pride Month everyone! I hadn’t planned on making this (hence the belated posting), but with everything that’s been going on, I just really needed to put something positive into the world. I tried to link all the author tumblrs I could find, but please let me know if I missed anyone!

1-5k Words

cut from his strings by macabre (trans Peter)

In which Peter’s dysphoria makes eating easier said than done. Ouch ouch ouch. My poor heart. Peter’s battle to find peace in his own skin hurts, but in an unapologetic and truthful way. Seeing Tony help him with recovery makes the pain worth it.

Dudes in Distress by @boww-tiez (gay Peter)

In which Peter’s coming out doesn’t exactly go to plan; cue Tony making it better. Peter’s so adorable in this! His nervousness about telling Tony he’s gay and regret over some of his past experiences is really well written. Brilliant relationship dynamic. Ten out of ten for fluffiness.

general relativity by macabre (Peter likes boys)

In which Tony worries about what big secret his adopted son could be trying so hard to keep from him. Another beautifully written fic from macabre, who always portrays Peter and Tony’s relationship with genuine emotional depth. This is one of those go-to fics I reread whenever I’m feeling down.

no cops at pride, just spiderman by @tempestaurora (bi Peter and bi Tony)

In which Peter convinces Tony to attend Pride parade with him. This one has so many cute moments (it’s officially canon that Peter’s crushing on Bucky), but it’s also very touching when Tony talks about his experiences being in the LGBT community during the 1980s and 90s. Respect to authors who can incorporate social activism into their writing so smoothly.

Of Gods and Crushes by @tstarkapologist (bi Peter)

In which Peter has a not-so-secret crush on Thor. I was grinning like a loon the entire way through this. Tony’s the perfect combination of supportive and teasing—he’s just nailing the Embarrassing Dad (tm) role that he was born to play. (And really, who doesn’t have a crush Thor?)

Peter Parker’s Top Surgery Fund by @vivilevone (trans Peter)

In which there’s a bakesale, certain revelations are had, and an ‘anonymous’ donation is made to GoFundMe. Shout-out to Tony who’s so clueless but tries so hard. Funny and cute with just a dash of angst thrown in; hits the spot. Featuring Number One Bestie Ned and Science Bro Bruce.

Use Somebody (Someone Like You) by @rosalinesbenvolio (trans Peter)

In which Peter’s not very good at coming out despite his best efforts. What a cutie (both Peter and this fic)! A heartfelt, comedic, altogether delightful read. Peter and Tony’s relationship is genuinely sweet. Kudos to Michelle for being that best friend everyone needs.

5-15k Words

5 Times Peter Acted Like A Teenager And The 1 Time He Had To Be An Adult by @losingmymindtonight (Peter likes boys) 

In which Peter misses curfew, falls in love, gets his heart broken, and might need a few pep talks from his dad along the way. Did I mention there’s a kidnapping? Tony is *chef’s kiss* in this, especially as he helps Peter navigate through his first real breakup by providing much comfort and cuddles and encouragement. Dramatic!Teenager!Peter is my spirit animal.

Ace!Peter series by @peter-parkerson (biromantic ace Peter)

In which sometimes kids can be jerks, but luckily Peter has people there to remind him he’s not in any way broken. Sweet and soft and lovely. Featuring Tony as the ally parent every queer kid deserves and Ned as the caring, understanding, altogether wonderful boyfriend who knows there’s more to relationships than just sex.

Asexual!Peter series by @parkrstark (biromantic ace Peter and bi Tony)

In which Peter uses indecipherable metaphors, Tony becomes increasingly confused, and May’s the saint who puts up with them both. Oof. My poor, poor heart. I really just want to wrap Peter in a hug and tell him everything’s going to be okay, then buy him an ace flag cape and drag him to Pride March. Luckily Tony’s there to do all that for me.

June by @peterparkrr (gay Peter and bi Tony)

In which Tony buys a parenting book and (not so successfully) tries to get Peter to come out. I absolutely love how Tony is written in this! Even though he might still be getting the hang of this parenting thing, you can tell how deeply he cares about Peter and just wants what’s best for him. Only criticism is that it makes my face hurt from smiling so widely; the fluffiness and humor is just too good!

15-25k Words

Fragile and Composed by @theoceanismyinkwell I’m sorry the @ isn’t working it keeps saying “no blogs found” (gay Peter and bi Tony)

In which Steve gives some advice, Peter confronts some bullies, and Tony is there to deal with the fallout. Guh. This fic. Everything TheOceanIsMyInkwell writes gives me *emotions* and I love it. I love the tension between Tony and Steve as they try to move forward after Civil War. I love Peter standing up for himself and his friends. I love Tony being protective, and trying to do better for Peter when he realizes he’s missed the mark. Just gorgeous in every way.

Gay Disaster Peter Parker series by Iwillseduceyouwithmyweirdness (is it redundant to say gay Peter?)

In which, as the title suggests, Peter Parker is a gay disaster. Every work in this series does an amazing job depicting some of the very real struggles queer teens often face (particularly self-harm/mental health issues and bullying). It’s raw and painful, but at the same time offers so much hope that recovery is possible. Tony’s love and support and care for Peter makes my heart happy.

i never promised you your dream boy series by @ftmpeter (gay/trans Peter)

In which even when it feels like the universe is against him, Peter’s family and friends will always have his back. This series is wonderful in so many aspects, but the thing that really shines through for me is Tony’s characterization. He fumbles once in a while, and might not have a ton of background knowledge about LGBTQ+ issues, but he does his absolute best to learn and help Peter through day to day challenges of being trans. Perfect ally.

Lightning in a Bottle by @groo-ock (Peter likes boys)

In which Spider-Man and the Human Torch are dating, but Peter Parker and Johnny Storm definitely, definitely aren’t. Definitely not. Gruoch’s fics are always an absolute joy to read, and this one is no different. Even if you’re not a Fantastic Four fan, please give it a chance, especially if you need something fun and lighthearted right now; the humor is terrific! Exasperated Tony is icing on the cake. This poor man puts up with so many shenanigans...

Project Pride by TheSleepingOwl (gay Peter)

In which Peter doesn’t know that Tony knows he’s gay, and Tony’s an over the top helicopter dad who’s just trying his best. This one deals with some pretty heavy stuff, including Peter’s lasting trauma from being sexually abused when he was younger, but the author handles it all with dignity and respect and does it justice. A lot of parts made me laugh. Other parts had me tearing up. Other parts had me full-out sobbing. An incredible read and instant favorite.

[moonstruckaffection]

I’ve always thought you are incredibly beautiful, and are a really cool person! :) I hope you are doing amazing, and that this has been a wonderful year for you! :) You’re amazing!

Well this was sent in on December 2, 2019 so I’ll let you know it was half amazing and half shit!☺️First half was awesome bc I focused on my mental and physical health, got into exercise classes that I loved and stepped back from school for a bit for mental health and worked instead and I fucking loved it. Then I started working at a law firm and it was hell and I was done after 5 weeks and that triggered a downward spiral bc it was right after my 21st so I was drinking like 4/7 nights of the week getting absolutely plastered. I was definitely trying to avoid the fact that I was depressed bc I thought I’d I admitted it that that would make it real and I didn’t want it to be real bc my wedding was coming up in like 4 months and I wanted to be happy but that did not happen I am sorry to say.

2020 was shit for everyone obviously, but the best thing that came out of it was that my now-husband and I adopted our little sweetheart (see a few revolts down for the post) and she is the best thing to ever happen to us. She’s the one that helped me through 2020. I was also diagnosed with PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome) in July 2021 due to excessive weight gain that I thought was from depression and/or drinking even though after I stopped it didn’t go away. AND I FUCKING GOT COVID IN NOVEMBER SO THAT WAS DOPE! Had every symptom except for fever. As of late July 2021 my taste and smell still aren’t normal and I can’t have coffee, cereal, chips or peanut butter ever bc they taste like sulfur and smell horrendous. I am glad that I can at least taste and smell some. I went through parosmia at the beginning of the year though and that was terrible bc I couldn’t eat anything bc it smelled so bad and I lost 5 pounds bc I wasn’t eating anything but Saltine crackers lol.

Anyway, 2021 is better overall bc I’m on medication for PCOS so it’s better controlled, my depressive episode finally ended in March this year. AND I FUCKING GRADUATED UNDERGRAD WITH A 3.65 GPA! I didn’t have a ceremony sadly but I wanna get some pictures here soon. I also got vaccinated and went to Disney with my husband for our belated honeymoon (we got married a week before lockdowns so honeymoon got cancelled) slash college grad trip. It was hot as hell but so fun.☺️And I’m at a temp job that pays well and isn’t stressful! Overall I’m still sad about the earth dying and people being monsters but I try not to think about it so I don’t cry instantaneously.

I so appreciate this message and I hope you see it now that I’m back!

[catboymingi]

reconciliation - in this life and the next chap. 5

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst; soulmates & reincarnation au

word count: 4.1k

warnings: dealing with loss & hurt; language

hurt is never a requirement for improvement, but sometimes it is the spark that sets off the improvement long needed

maybe you'd feel bad about completely cutting all contact with not only mingi but also yunho, but you didn’t have the energy to. you’d collected all your things, gone back to your old phone number, and when you’d seen how often your parents had tried to call you and the dozens, hundreds of messages they’d sent begging you to let them know if you were okay and that they were sorry and that they knew they’d messed up and that they just really didn’t want to lose you again, would do anything they could to get used to the new situation, would start therapy with you, whatever it took, your decision was made. you’d go back home, a place neither of the boys knew, a place where maybe you’d be able to feel okay again. though you knew you wouldn’t, knew that the hurt, the betrayal you felt because of mingi’s words wouldn’t leave, not soon and maybe never. but you weren’t going to deal with him. you were, for the first time, trying to forget rather than remember.

at least he hadn’t kissed you, because while he was probably supposed to seeing how he was your soulmate or whatever you were glad that that hadn’t happened, were glad that it hadn’t been that… serious, emotionally, that it had been one-sided in that regard, because you felt like if he’d kissed you back it would be much harder for you, would hurt much more. but he hadn’t, of course he hadn’t. you hadn’t been who he wanted. and you never would be, something you reminded yourself of and something that strengthened your decision to leave. something that confirmed that you never wanted to see him again.

when you came back home your parents almost couldn’t believe it. it had been weeks without any sign of you, and while they hadn’t given up hope entirely they’d been close to. but now here you were, looking vastly different but it was still you, and it seemed like they had in fact realised that this was the you they’d get, that the daughter they’d known was gone, that they’d have to get to know you from the start again.

things were hard in the beginning, they were, there was a lot of anger and hurt and unresolved issues that you’d had to work through. but they had grown, you had grown, and you actually talked.

“i don’t think that you noticed that it like… it wasn’t subtle that you didn’t like me. i knew that i wasn’t who you wanted, i could tell so clearly, you didn’t like the me that you got. i could tell that you wanted me to remember, all the time, it felt like i wasn’t worth anything if i couldn’t. and i just didn’t want to have to deal with that, i didn’t want to have to see that you hated me on the daily. it didn’t matter if i was gone, you didn’t want me anyway”, you revealed during your third day back home, during another emotional talk where you spilled how you felt. and first then did they realise just how you’d felt, that you hadn’t run away to hurt them but because you were hurting. that they hadn’t been the only ones, but that you’d hidden it because you’d felt like it wouldn’t make a difference to them whether or not you were okay. they hadn’t realised that you would’ve needed them, not just the other way round.

“we’re so sorry, we are”, and both your mother and you were crying, your fathers eyes shining suspiciously, as well, “can i hug you?”

she’d never asked this before you’d left, doing it when she wanted to and then, when she noticed that it made you tense and uncomfortable every time, stopped trying. but now you’d told her that it just overwhelmed you to be touched randomly, that you just needed to be asked, that you needed some kind of… not a warning, because it wasn’t something bad, but a notice. that you needed to know that you had the option to say no.

“please hug me”, crying and shaking and wanting nothing more than to be held and rocked back and forth like a baby, and she did, pressing you tight to her chest. things were hard, things hurt, but you were glad to have the comfort of a mother’s embrace when you’d had to give up on the comfort of a friend’s embrace. when you’d had to give up on having a friend. you were glad that you weren’t alone.

your father joined in on the hug, glad to have his daughter back, because he’d finally realised that that was who you were - you were his daughter, even if you couldn’t remember. you were a family, after so many months of struggling and hurt you finally were a family again. a family that cried a lot, a family that argued, a family that had a lot to work through, but you were a family.

maybe, if you were lucky, you’d be okay again.

//

mingi had been a mess since you left. yunho had thought he’d seen him broken, but what he’d seen was nothing compared to his friend now. it was almost scary, the change in behaviour - for a few days he was completely apathetic, numb, didn’t react to life, didn’t even go to work (though he had called in sick, urged by yunho who didn’t want him to lose his job), but then suddenly he was the opposite, going to his apartment, cleaning up, throwing the trash away that had been there ever since she died, making changes even though he’d refused to do so for so many months now. the blond didn’t know what to make of it, and it was incredibly worrisome. it was impossible to tell whether or not the brunette was doing it to punish himself or if he was doing it because he’d realised that keeping the apartment in a state of fossilisation ever since her death wasn’t going to get her back. maybe he was just desperate to do something.

they were both still trying to message you, but you didn’t ever receive them. if mingi hadn’t obviously been beating himself up over his behaviour, if mingi hadn’t realised that the way he’d acted had been anything but okay, maybe his friend would be angrier at him than he was. maybe it would have ruined their friendship, actually, because no matter how much one was hurting that didn’t mean that it was okay to hurt others, yunho was convinced. but the other regretted his behaviour and wanted to make things okay, so their friendship survived, though it had become a little cooler for a while. they were working on it, though, they too were doing relationship repair.

it was odd, seeing the brunette be so outwardly energetic when the blond knew that he didn’t actually mean it. it seemed like he was either trying to distract himself or, which he hoped, trying to get back on track, trying to fix his life. yunho just hoped it would last.

//

a few weeks after returning home you’d built a life for yourself, no matter how scary it was for your parents. you’d moved into an own little apartment closer to uni, you’d been accepted for the neuropsychology degree through a belated entry exam that was excused with you having been physically unable to take it when everyone else did but that you knew was at least partly related to money changing its owner, and your parents supported you. you still visited them, and they knew where you were now, so they were able to accept that you no longer lived with them. while your relationship with them had improved a lot their house still made you feel odd, it still didn’t feel like your home, and they knew that, so instead of trying to force you to stay they helped you get a place that could feel like home to you. you felt in control of your own fate, and it made you happy. but there was one thing that was still on your mind near constantly, and you told your parents to not be worried if they wouldn’t be able to reach you for a little while because you had to get your phone fixed, a lie that you only told because you didn’t want to have to explain that you were going back to your secret number to see just how bad things were, because, despite it all, you missed the two men that had given you shelter when you’d needed it and because you wanted to see if they missed you too, if they were still thinking about you.

then, you did it. you put in the old (or new?) sim card, and restarted your phone, anxiously waiting to see what would happen. how many messages you’d have. if you’d have any messages at all. if mingi was angry, if yunho was angry, if they hated you. despite what had happened you were still hoping they’d like you. despite what had happened you were still hoping mingi might maybe actually care.

when your phone exploded with messages as soon as it had restarted you couldn’t get yourself to read the messages you most wanted to read. you couldn’t get yourself to check mingi’s chat, so you checked yunho’s instead. he, at least, was obviously worrying, telling you that he was sorry for what had happened and that he should have kept his friend from fucking up like that, that he was so incredibly sorry, that he hoped you were okay, and that, even if you never wanted to talk to either of them okay, he’d be so grateful if you could at least tell him, if you ever saw this, that you were alive, that you were okay. that he hoped you’d talk to him again, even if not to mingi, that he was angry at his friend because his behaviour was completely awful. and maybe it was because he seemed to be so sorry even though he hadn’t done anything, or maybe it was because you missed these men and while you couldn’t deal with mingi maybe you could deal with him, but you messaged him.

[y/n]: i’m fine. don’t worry about me

his reply came almost immediately, a “thank fuck”, and then, a little later, as if he was hesitating, another message.

[yunho]: i missed you

yunho and you hadn’t been that close when you left, but it still made you strangely happy to hear that he’d cared about your absence. you’d missed him, too.

[y/n]: is mingi there rn or can i call?

[yunho]: he’s at work

so you called, glad to hear the familiar voice.

“y/n? it’s really you, right?”, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“yeah, it is. sorry for ignoring you, it’s not like you’d done anything, i just… couldn’t.”

although you didn’t elaborate what you couldn’t the man knew. couldn’t deal with anything related to mingi.

“no, i get it. i’m just glad you’re okay.” he really was, it wasn’t like he could be angry at you for needing time.

“how are you holding up, yunho?”, saying his name so he’d know it was not about mingi, that you still didn’t want to hear about him.

“i’m okay, i think. a lot on my mind, but that’s kind of a given. how about you?”

“if i tell you, will you promise not to tell mingi? or, if i give you my new number. will you promise that he won’t have any way to contact me, that you won’t tell him?”

“of course. not tell him your number though, or not tell him we’re talking at all? he worries, though i still get why you don’t want to see him, i won’t make you, i won’t tell him anything you don’t want me to.”

you thought for a moment, unsure, but you weren’t like him. you didn’t want him to feel bad just because you had the power to keep him feeling bad. and knowing that you were talking to yunho wouldn’t give him the option to talk to you, even if he tried, unless there was a way to get your number without yunho’s knowledge. that was something you had to make sure couldn’t happen first.

“you can tell him i’m fine, but i don’t know, would he be able to snoop my number from your phone?”

“i have face id.”

“then it’s fine. but don’t tell him anything else, promise.”

“of course not. promise.”

“i just hope you know that if he contacts me in any way, if i find out you gave him a way to do that, i’m blocking both of you, for real this time, i’m getting a new number and you’ll never hear from me again. i don’t want... i can’t deal with him.”

“i get it. he won’t find out anything from me. i promise, really.”

thinking for another moment, you decided that it was okay. you’d missed having friends, and he seemed like someone you could trust, so you’d just take the risk. you’d told him what would happen if he messed up.

“okay, i’ll call you again soon. from my other number. the one where you can actually reach me.”

“text me, i think mingi is coming back soon.”

“okay, will do. thank you, yunho.” you were thanking him both for the warning and for being there, for still wanting to talk to you. for seeming to still want to be your friend.

//

when mingi got home it looked like he’d caught yunho doing something, because the taller male seemed surprised that he was suddenly there.

“hey”, the brunette greeted, curious about what was going on but waiting to see if yunho would tell him.

“y/n messaged.”

oh. that explained the look on his friend’s face. especially since he already seemed to know that you hadn’t messaged him, something he couldn’t blame you for but something he still wished was different.

“is she okay?”

“yeah. starting over. she’s fine.”

that was what you’d told yunho, that you were fine, even though it was clear that what  happened still affected you. but it wasn’t his place to tell the other man that you still seemed to be heartbroken by his careless, selfish words. it wasn’t his place to tell anything more.

“i guess she still doesn’t want to talk to me.”

shaking his head, the blond asked: “does it surprise you? after what happened? i’m glad she’s fine with talking to me. don’t mess this up.”

“i miss her.”

and he knew his friend missed you. he knew. so maybe that was why his kind of cold, stern behaviour softened just a little.

“i know, but she doesn’t want to see you. she’s made it clear, if you find a way to contact her because of me she’s blocking us both, she won’t talk to either of us. this way at least you’ll know she’s okay.”

it was a poor attempt at comfort, at reassurance, but it was the best he could do. of course it hurt, but he couldn’t possibly ask of you to give in to his friend’s pleas - that you hadn’t even witnessed yourself - just because mingi wanted you to, ignoring your own wants and needs.

“i know. i just wish i hadn’t said that. i wish i hadn’t fucked up.”

he wasn’t alone in that. that was probably the biggest thing he had in common with you right now, the wish that he’d never said what he’d said, the wish that he’d never tried to use you to forget his pain. it had only caused both of you all the more pain, and while it was his own fault you deserved much better than that. you really did.

“i know.”

yunho wished he could tell mingi that maybe one day you’d forgive him, or at least talk to him again, but he didn’t know, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up. so he just told him that he knew, because he did. there was nothing more to say. especially not when the blond’s phone buzzed again and a pained expression appeared on mingi’s face.

he’d been trying to get back on track, half ignoring his pain, half using it as a fuel to get out of the valley he’d been in since her death and that he’d not even really left when he got closer to you, hoping that he’d one day be able to show you that he was better now, that he wasn’t going to hurt you again. that the feelings he had were for you, not a desperate attempt to get her back, the memories he’d made with her. that he liked you, genuinely, and that he was willing to restart, if he had to. he just wished this realisation had come sooner, before he’d possibly ruined the one chance he had. because now he was better, he was on his way to being okay, but it didn’t matter to you anymore. at least one thing he’d learned, though - his motivation for doing things might start out being someone else, but he couldn’t let himself reverse all the progress he’d made just because things didn’t turn out how he wished. he couldn’t fall back into the depression he’d fought so hard to get out of just because you weren’t there to see that he was doing better. he couldn’t let your attention, or lack thereof, determine his well-being. though it was hard, it was hard to not just give up. and, weirdly enough, his motivation for not falling back into the deep pit he’d found himself in for months was knowing that you’d probably think he was pathetic if he did that just because you weren’t there, that you’d probably see it as a poor attempt to get you back rather than him wanting to change who he was for himself and for those around him that would continue to be hurt by his behaviour.

“reply to her. i’ll go take a shower.” because while he would be okay, it still hurt. still would for a while, no doubt.

//

you’d found that talking to yunho was nice, that it hurt much less than expected. he tried to not bring mingi up, something you were grateful for, instead asking about your life and if you were excited to start university and all those things. you were glad to have a friend, glad to have someone that wasn’t your family to talk to, someone that already knew the entire tragic backstory (or as much of it as you remembered), so you didn’t have to explain it all to him - the thing you dreaded most about starting your education. you were excited to get to know new people, but having to explain why you got to take a late entrance exam, why you were treated differently, was not something you were looking forward to.

now, however, you tried to focus on the friend you already had. yunho talked a lot with you, about his work, about your life, about how you were doing. he asked about your family and seemed genuinely glad to hear that the relationship had improved a lot, joking that you could always find refuge at his place if possible. it was then that you found out that mingi had half moved out by now, still staying at his friend’s place quite some but slowly easing himself into moving back into his own apartment. that was all you knew about the brunette, besides some casual comments about yunho planning to watch a movie with him that day or similar. he never told you anything big, he acted like mingi wasn’t a mutual acquaintance - he didn’t avoid talking about him at all costs, but neither did he tell you what mingi was up to. it just didn’t matter to you, or so you pretended, and the blond was willing to play along.

after about a week of contact with yunho and no attempt at contact from mingi you decided you could meet up with him, though you asked him to first tell mingi when he came back so that his friend wouldn’t get the idea to follow him. of course he agreed, because he was considerate and caring, because he didn’t want you to hurt and it was obvious that seeing mingi right now would hurt.

you agreed on going to a park, because a café would feel somewhat like a date and you just wanted to hang out casually, you wanted to walk around because you were quite certain that you’d have a lot of pent up nervous energy and walking would help with that, at least.

and now you were waiting for the next day, when you’d see yunho again.

//

mingi wasn’t stupid. even though he acted in incredibly stupid ways sometimes he knew that yunho was texting you a lot, that he was getting along great with you, and though he really shouldn’t feel this way because it’d been him who’d messed up, who’d ruined the potential chance he’d had with you, he felt somewhat… jealous. he was jealous that his best friend got to spend time with the girl he had actually fallen for, though it had taken him too long to realise and though the thought still made his heart hurt because it felt like betrayal to her, and that he wasn’t even allowed to know how you were doing, what you were up to. you were obviously holding up okay, because yunho never seemed too worried when he was texting you, and sometimes mingi would hope you’d call while he was there so he could at least get to hear your voice through the thin walls of yunho’s apartment if he put you on speaker, or hear his friend’s end of the conversation if he didn’t. he missed you, and he hated that he had no one but himself to blame for the fact that he couldn’t talk to you.

and when yunho told him he’d be busy that day with appointments mingi knew he wasn’t actually busy with appointments, because if he were he wouldn’t constantly be texting. he felt pathetic for it, but he was still jealous, and he wanted to see you. he wanted nothing more than to see your face, even if he wasn’t going to talk to you. and, though he knew he really shouldn’t do it, the thought of following yunho - or rather, checking for his location because his friend never turned the location setting off and mingi had more than once told him that it was easy for creepy stalkers to know just what he was doing without needing to put any effort into it; now he was going to be the creepy stalker, oh how the tables had turned - just wouldn’t leave his mind. he tried to ignore it, he really did, because he didn’t want to be creepy, he didn’t want to act even worse than he already had, but he also wanted to see your face. he didn’t have any reminder of you, not even a picture, and he was scared that he was going to forget what you looked like. and, even though it by far wasn’t his main motivation anymore, the soulmate thing was still at the back of his head, telling him that fate had intended for the two of you to be together and that he had to fight for you. and it was because of that that he thought that it couldn’t hurt if he just went to the park, too, just looked at you for a moment and left again. you’d never have to know. or so he thought.

but he’d forgotten about his height, about his build that had improved - he was near impossible to miss even when he wasn’t doing anything. and fate wouldn’t just let him be near you and not make you get a weird, familiar feeling, a feeling of being watched. so, naturally, when he had just sneaked the first glance at you and was fighting with himself over whether or not he should leave right now - logic told him yes, but his heart that was longing to talk to you told him no -, you turned around, eyes wide when you recognised just who was staring at you.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”