#but now I'm fully awake and had breakfast and washed so there's no point going back to bed

[kirk-goes-to-gallifrey]

woke up extremely early because my supervisor scheduled a meeting

only for him to cancel half an hour before the thing 😭😭😭

[kny-agere]

Sorry! I ended up not seeing the rules, I'm really sorry about that :(

Could you then just do Little Giyuu and Caregiver Shinobu? It's a shame I didn't read the rules before, it might be the same scenario as I wrote before, but you can change it if you don't feel comfortable!

I already did a request similar to this (you can read it here) so I changed the plot idea a bit. I hope that’s ok!! Still a hurt Tomioka but Shinobu already knows he regresses.

★彡☆彡★彡

It was a quiet day at the Butterfly Mansion which of course meant something had to go wrong. Other than a few broken bones and side effects from blood arts they hadn’t had to deal with any major injuries until Tomioka came into the building with half his ribs broken and a dozen smaller cuts scattered over his chest.

At first he was too focused on his breathing while Shinobu was busy wiping away blood and preparing medicine for either to exchange a proper greeting. She got lost in the motions of wrapping his injuries and wiping ointment over the wounds. When he was laid down on a cot she switched to stitching up the largest of his cuts. None of the gashes are life threatening but a few are long and deep enough that he had lost a bit of blood. The younger girls were quick to help out, bringing in fluids and sweets to replenish him.

Unfortunately with the internal injuries there’s much else she can do other than get him comfortable. She handed him some painkillers and offered to prepare a stronger concoction if it was deemed necessary. Kocho also propped him up carefully and placed an icepack over his abdomen. It was early in the morning, or maybe late at night, so the minute he was stable the woman mumbled a tired goodbye and stepped out of the door. They had still only exchanged a handful of words, but Tomioka needed the sleep too and they’d have plenty of time to chat while he spent the next month or so healing. Aoi would be able to handle things for a few hours and Shinobu desperately needed sleep. She was at the point where each blink was lasting longer and longer. With less patients she had immersed herself in research instead, which often kept her up later than medical work did. Tomioka hadn’t asked for her to stay (he was too focused on the throbbing pain radiating from his chest) so she took it as an opportunity to find time for herself.

Shinobu didn’t even bother to get changed first. She simply let her hair out of its tight updo and fell into her bed. The mattress was maybe the softest thing she’d ever felt and in a quick few minutes she was asleep.

—-

Though Shinobu only got a few extra hours of rest she feels refreshed by the time it’s actually morning. The woman takes a moment to change her clothes and wash her hair so she can start the day fully refreshed. None of the younger girls have come to grab her which means things outside must be going smoothly. She takes that knowledge as a reason to wake slowly as she attempts to rid the bags under her eyes for the time being.

Once she’s more presentable she sets off first to Giyuu’s room. His condition won’t have changed much but now she can give her coworker a more proper greeting. (Though he should be used to a bit of rudeness from the woman by now.) Along the way she grabs breakfast for herself to enjoy alongside Tomioka.

Shinobu announces herself with a gentle knock and though she hears no acknowledgement enters the room. She wouldn’t be surprised to see the older hashira asleep or just a bit dazed from the combination of adrenaline and painkillers.

He seems to be awake though. It’s hard to tell from his position as Tomioka has attempted to curl onto his side (mostly unsuccessfully, only his face truly faces away from her) but his back and shoulders twitch with little motions that she’s grown to know.

“It’s too late to hide your injuries Tomioka-san I already know you made a fool of yourself last night.” She’s not cruel enough to poke his tender sides so instead she jams a finger into the back of his neck. When she’s not even greeted with a flat look the woman frowns. “Hey did someone put something in your medicine?” She leans over to poke his cheek and touches the tears on his face.

“Oh baby what’s wrong?” Shinobu pulls the man to face her. The shadows under his eyes seem worse than usual and there are clear tear tracks under his eyes.

Giyuu just grunts and Kocho knows she’ll have to play a guessing game. Taking a moment to pepper kisses across his face she thinks back to their meeting. “Was I too rough with you last night?” He shakes his head no. “Is the pain too much? Do you want some alone time?” Both are no’s.

“Did I leave too early yesterday?” Tomioka finally nods affirmatively and relaxes into Shinobu’s arms. He can’t quite gather the words to express himself but the woman is quick to soothe him anyways. “I’m sorry baby we can hang out now ok? That must’ve been hard getting hurt and then being left alone.” She rubs gentle fingers over his back. With Tomioka hurt she can’t properly cradle him but she gets as close as possible. “We’ll cuddle and play lots today.” The cooing and reassurance slowly dries Giyuu’s tears until he’s falling asleep again.

[thatoneweebsworld]

ITWOM Here We Go Boys Pt. 2

I decided a sequel was in order. I was going to write it before the weekend, then over the weekend. It's Monday now. I'm writing this. I'm picking up almost right after part 1. There will be a part 3 at some point, I just thought this would be cute idk

Mimi awakens to quite an odd situation. Her surroundings are wet, warm, and soft. Even though her eyes are wide open, she can't see anything. "Where..." she whispers to herself as she tries to figure out her location. It then hits her like a ton of bricks just what happened. The haze of just waking up fades to conscious relaxation. "Christopher, you awake yet?" she calls, accompanied by a few gentle taps and rubs. A sudden stirring up above her, a slight jump in the heart rate thumping overhead, and finally a soft hum and pressure answer her. "You woke me up, doll." Mimi still cannot get enough of the deep-set voice of her new giant acquaintance. In an attempt to not irritate her host Mimi starts gently rubbing circles in front of her into the stomach wall. The purring resonating around her only heightens her desire to stay put. "Let me guess," Christopher's voice mumbles. The only reason Mimi can understand him is because she is inside. "You want breakfast, don't you?" She stalls for a moment by pushing a little but then decides yes, she is hungry. "It would be nice, yes..."

"Alright then. Do you want me to let you out now or once its ready? You'll probably want to get washed up." Mimi contemplates her options for a moment. While she does want to get rather clean before sharing a meal with her indulgent host, something about staying put and feeling him moving about the kitchen is also intriguing. "I... I think I want to be let out for now. We can definitely do this again later, I promise. You sure seem to enjoy it~" She gently pats the membrane in front of her and just for one more moment leans into it. "You don't seem so sure about that. I can get everything prepped and then let you out before I start doing the actual cooking." With that Mimi very contentedly curls up into the folds facing the outside. "That sounds absolutely perfect." A gently pressure on her back reassures her even more that her presence is welcomed. The peaceful situation is quickly upset by Christopher's standing up from his previously seated position in which he passed out the previous night. Being jostled certainly disorients the human but she doesn't truly mind, in fact the sensation brings back fond memories of a bounce house she went to as a kid. As the giant busied himself with the task of making breakfast Mimi finally starts to fully wake up. She had never gotten quite as good of sleep as she did last night. In fact, with how soundly she slept Mimi makes a mental note to get rid of the dart on her leg. She was told to never go anywhere without it, but the way Christopher treated her dispersed all of her initial fears. Unlike a ton of other humans from where she came from, her first experiences with giants have been overwhelmingly positive. Nothing but calmness spread through her mind.

That is, until the lovely gentle pressure returns. "I'm going to let you out now, doll."

"Mimi."

"Oh, right. Mimi. Bad habit." If anything this was the part of the process Mimi has been fearing the most. At her currently small state, the process is almost mundane for Christopher. He gently presses his arm into his torso and encourages the contents upward. As soon as Mimi catches in his throat she attempts to aid Christopher by pulling herself up as best she can. This results in her slipping back down. "Dammit Mimi hold still. It's easier for me to just do it." He tries again and this time Mimi stays dead still, harboring a tiny bit of fear that he wouldn't be able to get her out. Such intrusive thoughts are then quickly squandered by visible light. One more upward push and splash, Mimi lands in water. "Oh. I didn't mean to do that." Mimi looks up at the giant from the water and realizes he had intended to put her in his hands. She had slipped through the gap between his chin and wrists. "It's ok, don't worry. That was... easier than I expected." Christopher then turns on warm water from the bathroom sink and places a tiny pair of containers next to her. "You probably recognize these. You can just leave your clothes in here for now." Mimi listens intently to the giant's instructions, silently inspecting his facial features. Somehow how such a smug build, his words came off as genuine. "Oh, I actually have a change in my bag. Would you mind grabbing them since I'm already wet?" She points over the edge of the sink as best she can into the other room. Once settled, Mimi can't help but marvel a little at how much Christopher seemed to know about humans. The horror stories she had heard in the past were all lies then, right? She figures that it might make for good breakfast conversation. Until then, Mimi simply makes the most of what she does know. 'Humans are totally overrated.'

[celestialvexation-arch]

Hey, Godfather, Anon here. I'm sorry it took so long. Work and school have been so difficult as well as test week has Fallin upon me, but I hope you guys like this chapter

Chapter 3 - Touch

Tommy sat against the wall, never taking his eyes off the door. He refused to even close his eyes, afraid of whatever knocked back at him coming up the stairs waiting for him on the other side. He wasn't sure how long he had been awake, just that it was dark out, and now it was bright

He had longed placed Pugs in her cage, occasionally reaching a hand in to pet her for comfort which resulted in him not allowing her to sleep as well in the end he just removed her from the cage and placed her on his lap so she would be easier to access

Tommy finally looked away from the door, leaning his head back he closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion wash over him

I want to go home

A fleeting thought pushed past him subconsciously, his hand finding Pugs soft fur and brushing his finger against her

There is no home anymore

The sick reality made him gasp he turned to look at the window, watching the sunlight brighten the room

This IS his new reality, a home unfamiliar to him with a man whom he could barely recall from memories

Tears threatened to fall, but a soft knock on the door caused him to jump the exhaustion and despair he once felt was gone, and it was quickly replaced with fear and dread

He slowly arose from where he had been sitting his back firmly pressed against the wall holding on the Pugs too afraid to let her go his breathing quicken he glanced back at the window wondering how far down it was from this room to the ground

“Tommy? Are you awake?”

Tommy looked back at the door despite now knowing who was on the other side. Now, his unease lingered

“I was wondering if you wanted to join me for breakfast? I even have something for Pugs just in case you wanted to feed them”

Tommy looked down at Pugs who was already grumpy from lack of sleep plus he is sure from hunger he paced around the room for a minute trying to decide what his options where he could ignore Hal and whatever type of relationship he was trying to get out of Tommy and wait until nightfall to get something to eat but that would mean whatever was down there would also be waiting for him 

A low whistle caused Tommy stop his pacing and glance down at his dear pet the look she gave Tommy pulled at his heartstrings he knew what he had to do even if it meant feeling uncomfortable for a couple of hours as long as his Pugs was fed and happy then he could keep going

With a sigh he placed Pugs back in her cage but not before placing a kiss on her furry head he turned to the door and gently unlocked it opening the door just slightly to peak out only to be startled by Hal still standing there despite knowing Tommy took a while to make his decision

Hal perked up upon seeing Tommy

“You had me going for a second there, so are you going to join me?”

Tommy looked back at Pugs, then back at Hal, he nodded, opening the door fully, and followed Hal downstairs

Now that it was the brighter Tommy was able to see things more clearly the green wallpaper was faded and old clearly passed its prime the paintings ranged from unsettling to confusing the wood the surrounded the house seemed dated and cracked 

All in all, this place was still unnerving

“I noticed you went out of your room yesterday"

Tommy was snapped back to the conversation. Now more alert, he remembered the lettuce he had dropped and panic overtook him. Was Hal mad he went out of the room yesterday? Was he upset that he had dropped food and made a mess?

“I don't mind you coming in and out of the room at night to grab a snack but… it's just… I…”

Tommy eyed the back of Hals head, trying to figure out what point he was trying to make the other sighed, shaking his head

“Nevermind it's nothing”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, and now, curious about what Hal was going to say, he reached his hand to Hal but quickly pulled back

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just a warning to not snack at night… or maybe

As if on cue Tommy's thoughts halted when his eyes caught sight of the door, he stood frozen in place as the memory flashed in his head 

Hal must have noticed Tommy's frozen state because he also looked at the door confused he looked back at Tommy

“If you want, you could step out and explore, but after breakfast, ok?”

Tommy looked at Hal as if he had just said the most outlandish thing. Outside? What is he talking about?

Without warning Hal walked towards the door undoing each lock fear raced through Tommy's body he hadn't realized he was backing away until his body hit the wall he wanted to yell at Hal to stop plead with the older man anything to make him stop but nothing came from his mouth

When the door was pulled open instead of a dark dingy room like Tommy had expected, instead, it was bright and colorful. The smell of fresh grass coated his nose

It was a door that led outside. It was a back door

Tommy stood gobsmacked he stared blankly at the table slowly sitting at the wooden chair

“I think there is a lake not too far from here. You could also check that out later as well”

Hal turned towards Tommy shutting the door not bothering to do every lock he noticed how pale Tommy looked and walked over to him he hesitated placing a hand on the others shoulder but last minute decided against it instead choosing to fetch the breakfast

Tommy hadn't registered the breakfast in front of him until Hal spoke, seemingly snapped, put off his trance he finally stared at his food, but all he felt was nausea, his breathing quick

The breakfast was arranged in a smiley face. Tommy would have no problem with this if it wasn't for the fact that no one but his mother would ever make his breakfast like this

Flashes of her eyes staring back at him caused Tommy to stand up from his chair knocking it over the nausea was stronger than ever he gagged rushing to the trash can he pushed the lid off and threw up the acid from his stomach he let out choked sobs as tears fell

He felt hands on him and words being said but he couldn't hear anything but he knew who it was once he couldn't throw up anymore he quickly turned to look at Hal and pushed him away but his foot slipped on something causing him to fall back and slam against the wooden cabinet he slid down breaking down to tears 

I wish I was dead

I wish I had died with them

I don't want to be here

I want them back

All these thoughts piled on top of each other overlapping with one another more choked sobs escaped him he soon was embraced by Hal much to Tommy's displeasure Hal was too warm too rough not at all like his father or mother who where soft gentle and welcoming

Despite this, Tommy dug his hands in Hal's button-up shirt, gripping it for dear life. Soon, his ears finally began to tune in to the words Hal was saying to him

“It's Ok Tommy, you ok come on breath with me can you do that for me?”

Tommy nodded following Hals example taking a deep breath then breathing out both him and Hal repeated this step four times until the world stopped spinning for Tommy until he no longer felt like dying until all he saw was Hal

“There we go… Good job, buddy, you did so good!”

Hal reached his hand to Tommy's face, gently wiping away the tears

“God I'm so sorry, Tommy. I thought… damn it! I should have known”

Hal looked at the now discarded breakfast on the table, pain, worry, and guilt etched on his face. Tommy had never seen the man look so… Helpless

Then again, he is sure Hal hadn't seen him so broken until now

Without warning Hal gently scooped Tommy up from the kitchen floor and carried him to the couch Tommy taken aback by the sudden change in gravity clung to Hal even tighter only to finally look up at the man when he was placed on the couch

“Rest forget about breakfast. I'll bring you a blanket, and I'll bring something to eat while I'm out… I'm so sorry Tommy”

Tommy looked away from Hal instead of choosing to nuzzle deeper in the couch, but he quickly grabbed Hal's sleeve, stopping the older man from leaving

“...P-Pugs…”

It was strange hearing his own voice it had been a while since he knew what he sounded like 

He misses it

Hal let out a soft sigh, something in his eyes expressed worry, fear , understanding and… frustration?

“I'll be sure to leave something for Pugs just please rest”

And with that Hal walked out of the “living room” if Tommy could really call it that but he was in no mood to analyze the space he was in turning on his side and fell in to a light slumber as he was in the space of sleep and awake he heard the sounds of steps slow and careful making its way to Tommy the other nit thinking too much about it knowing it must have been Hal but as his conscious mind drifted Tommy felt something cool against his cheek almost grazing it whether it's a blessing or not Tommy fell in to old set of nightmares

WOW. this was a lot to take in and i'm sorry for not getting to it sooner 😭😭😭

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Kate Bishop x Reader Not Who You Think I Am Part 5

Summary: Kate has to go out of town for business, and asks an old friend to watch out for Tracksuit Mafia while she's gone.

The sunlight pouring into the bedroom from the window paired with distant voices coming from the living room. Brought you out of your deep slumber you turned over hands reaching for Kate, but finding nothing but an empty space. Your eyes shot open as you sat up looking around the room for your girlfriend. She wasn't there but being fully awake you were able to make out the voices a little better. One of them definitely belonged to Kate which washed away all of your worry, only for it to return instantly. When you realized you didn't recognize the other voice talking to her. Dread filled your entire body with your mind thinking of the worst. Did Fisk go back on the deal?

You jumped out of bed making a beeline for the closed door yanking it open. "Get away from-" You started to shout storming into the dining room , but the sight made you halt in your tracks.

Kate was seated at the table with a plate of waffles in front of her. Waffles you knew she didn't make herself, and there were no leftovers from yesterday either. She whirled around in her chair mid-bite at the sound of your voice. "Babe hey you're awake what's wrong?" she asked her voice a little muffled. The expression on your face told her you were in distress, and you were still in your pajamas. Which wouldn’t have been such a big deal if you actually wore real pajamas to bed last night. You were in a pair of short purple cotton shorts, and a sports bra. She didn't mind last night when you climbed into bed with barely anything on, and wouldn’t have minded so much now. If it wasn't for the fact she had company over.

You went to step out from behind the little corner keeping you from view of the kitchen. "I thought I heard someone else in here. Who made those waffles?" Kate shot out of her chair to block your path.

"Woah um can you go get dress first please? She asked nervously running a hand through her hair.

"Kate is someone else in here?" You questioned her with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah and you can meet her as soon as you go put on some actual clothes." Kate responded moving her head in whatever direction yours went.

"Oh come on Kate Bishop don't be so awkward its not like I haven't seen it all before." An unfamiliar voice said coming from the kitchen.

"Yelena shut up before I toss the hot sauce gift box out the window" Kate yelled. The mysterious stranger let out a sharp gasp at her response. "You will do no such thing."

You didn't need to hear anymore without a word you turned back around and went back into room. Whoever was in the kitchen hardly sounded like a threat. You threw on a pair black joggers and plain purple shirt before going back out. This time the mysterious stranger was seated at the table with her own plate of waffles. There was another plate placed in front of an empty chair. You took a seat in the chair assuming it was meant for you. Kate bent down wrapping her arms around your neck from behind. She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek moving her lips up to your ear.

"This is Yelena Belova she's an old friend. I would've introduced you sooner but she's a bit of a drifter" Kate whispered.

"Hey Yelena did you make the waffles?" You asked her looking down at the fluffy breakfast pastries that were way too defined to be box-made.

"You know I did Kate Bishop would burn down the entire building trying to do all this" Yelena answered.

"Hey I'm right here" Kate protested lifting her head up from your shoulder. "Babe I can cook a little bit you know."

"I know but she has a point these were made for scratch" You said. Kate frowned and was ready to argue, but you pecked her lips before she could. "It doesn't mean I love you any less besides box-made food is delicious too."

Kate beamed at that and released her hold on you in order to plop down into the chair next to yours. She watched as you poured an unnecessary amount of syrup on the waffles before digging in. It was going to kill her to have to be so far away the next couple of days. But unfortunately a multi-million dollar company couldn't run itself, and there plans for the Bishop Security to go international. Which meant she had to travel abroad to communicate with future clients and partners. It was a last minute decision that her team just made her aware of this morning around five. After getting off the call Kate sent a quick text to Yelena asking her to come over if she was in town.

"Awww Katie-bear its so nice seeing be all domestic and stuff. It just proves my point that you're just one giant softie with a bow and arrow" Yelena said out of nowhere.

Kate's eyes widened as you finally pulled yourself out of your food spell at Yelena's comment. "How exactly did you two know each other?"

Yelena knew you knew about Kate being a hero and Avenger in training, so she really didn't understand why the dark haired girl was making a frantic waving motion for her to shut up. But then again Kate could be weird sometimes so the blonde lied. "We took archery classes together since like what high school?" she said smoothly.

Kate let out a sigh of relief that Yelena caught on. "Technically eighth grade and yeah we met in archery club. Yelena was always second best and hated it" she finished.

"And your pretty girlfriend likes to act like she's this invincible badass, just because she got a couple of trophies" Yelena told you leaning forward.

"Well I mean she is pretty badass did you see what she did to the bell-tower at the college."

"I'll give you that not everyone can bring down a building with one arrow even if it was old" Yelena argeed.

The rest of the morning went by with no more hiccups. You and Yelena seemed to get along just fine with the blonde being able to keep up with the fake history. Between her and Kate effortless you didn't catch a single lie, and considering you had know her for just about her entire life is what made even more impressive. Kate made a mental note to one day get Yelena to give her a class in deception. Not to use on you but for the field one day when she did join the Avengers officially.

Eventually you had to call it and head in for your afternoon class. You showered, threw on some more appropriate clothing and left with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder.

"Bye y/n it was nice meeting you next time I taste your cooking." Yelena called out from the window waving goodbye. You returned the wave as you got into your car pulling off a few seconds later. Kate had her back to Yelena washing the dishes, so she didn't see the grin fall from her face. The second she pulled her body back into the apartment, and turned around crossing her arms over chest. "So why are we lying to your girlfriend? Not cool Kate Bishop I actually do like her, and you're going to lose brownie points with me. If you don't start talking now."

Kate's body went rigid at the harsh tone in Yelena's voice. She hadn't heard the blonde sound so serious since last year when she confronted her looking for Clint. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed a dead look to match the tone. She finished drying the last plate before wiping her hands and turning around. Kate braced both of her hands on the counter. "She knows about me being partners with Clint and everything, but she doesn't know about the Tracksuit Mafia being back in the city. They kidnapped me and Lucky a few weeks ago when I was out walking him. I only got away because of a mistake the leader made, and I didn't tell her about any of this because I don't want her to worry or be scared."

"She seems pretty capable" Yelena pointed out.

"She is but still this is my mess and I don't want her involved Yelena. Which is why I didn't want her to know how we really met, or why you're really here" Kate said.

"Oh yeah why am I here?"

I'm going out of town for a few days and I want you to keep a look for the Tracksuit Mafia, especially the leader. She wears a wolf mask and has a sword" Kate informed her.

"I'm not a babysitter Bishop" Yelena stated blatantly.

Kate pushed off the counter to walk over to the blonde. She reached out to take her hands in her own. "I know you're not but this would be a huge favor for me, and I would forever be in your debt." She said giving her hands a light squeeze. "Please Yelena you're the only one I trust to do this" Kate added for extra measure.

Yelena just stared at her eyes flicking back and forth between her face and their linked hands. "Fine I will do it but never threaten my hot sauce again" she finally said.

Kate pulled her into a bone-crushing hug against her wishes and struggles repeating thank you over and over again.

A Day Later

The only good thing about Kate being out on the country for the next three days was you didn't have to sneak around her anymore. It was easy to get whatever task Wilson gave you done and back home without explanation. Not to mention you were moving at a faster pace hoping that it was possible to finish everything up in the couple of days. So once Kate did return it would be like a fresh start not having to worry about bumping into anymore while doing Fisk's dirty work.

Tonight the job was simple wiping some of the Tracksuit Mafia's files from the police's database for good. You didn't need to break into the police station to do it. A police chief home computer would get the job done, because if there was one thing you knew for sure. These guys tended to take their work home with them which meant accessing their account. Fisk supplied with a list of all police officers in the city and which ones were currently under his payroll. It brought a sickening feeling to your stomach knowing so many of them couldn't be trusted, but alas it wasn't your problem. At least not right now maybe when all of this was over you could tip off the right people.

One of the officers under the chief you picked did his job making his boss was too busy to be home on time tonight. So you slipped into his house through an unlocked window. It was quiet and empty you walked around until you finally came across brown oak double doors. No doubt leading the cliche home office you opened the doors and went in. On the inside was a standard size room with black carpet and walls painted black as well. The left side was dedicated to his career filled with various medals and certificates proving he was a good man and earned his position. On the right side was a long and wide built in counter system with a few drawers. Multiple bottles of liquor along with a fancy shot glass set rested on top of the counter. A giant patriot of the chief posing in his best blues hung on the wall above it. In the center was his desk with a bookcase behind it filled with classics, binders, and other mystery books.

You pulled your sword over your head to rest it on the edge of the desk. Bringing it along wasn't really necessary tonight but it was safety measure just in case. You pushed the rolling office chair to the side, and hunched over the desktop computer. The screen came to life with a single shake of the mouse. Obviously he wasn't the paranoid type considering he was already logged in. You spent the next five minutes getting through all of the police system's online security aided by the passwords. The dirty cop provided you with, and after that it was just installing a deadly virus into the system that would clean out the system. Targeting any information and case files on the Tracksuit Mafia.

You were just wrapping it all up when a creaking noise came from the entrance to the office. Your head snapped up at the sound eyes scanning the room for any movement. Unfortunately though all the lights were off and all you could see was darkness. You left the lights off on purpose not wanting one of his neighbors to see them, and discover his driveway still empty. The only light you had was the one illuminating from the computer. It wasn't much and didn't do anything to help you identify what made the noise. Minutes went by and nothing else happened no more noises, or any moving shadows. You figured it was probably a pet you didn't know about like a cat, or even a rat.

Your attention returned to the task at hand, and that was when the intruder struck. Whoever it was managed to slip behind you without you seeing them. The person grabbed you by the neck and pushed your head down slamming your face into the desk. You felt your nose break blood gushing out of it as you were yanked backward with enough force your body crashed into the bookcase. The nose break had to be karma for breaking Kate's in your showdown with her. The intruder stood within the light of the computer giving you a glimpse of what they looked like. Unfortunately you couldn't make out a face because they were wearing a mask with night vision goggles installed, and was dressed in a black leather suit from head to toe. You saw the person bring their foot up, and managed to roll to the right. Just in time as they brought their foot down hard right where you were just a second ago.

The intruder planted their foot in your chest knocking you onto your back. As you tried to stand, and you let out a frustrated growl not use to being so outmatched before. Who exactly was this person? Why were they here, and most importantly who in the hell sent them. You waited until they were perched over you fist raised, before fighting back. You caught the fist in your hand moving your grip to their wrist and braced a foot in their chest. The assailant attempted to pull away but you held on moving your body to the side bringing them with you dropping them to the floor. Even that didn't cause the person to falter once they were free of your grip. They kicked out slamming their foot into your knee causing you to grit your teeth in pain. You rolled away to your feet and went for your sword. Your hand grabbed the hilt of it before you were pushed back. You stumbled but held onto the sword pulling it free from the scabbard.

"So what's up with the wolf mask?" The intruder asked speaking for the first time. Something about their voice sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it as the two of you circled each other.

"I don't really know I just really like wolves I guess" You answered wiping away some of the blood on your face.

"Personally I feel like you should've went for something a bit more fragile. Like a bug you know because frankly I'm not impressed" The stranger replied jumping forward.

You flinched taking a few steps back "oh please you snuck on me, and no offense I can barely see you."

"I'm sorry I didn't realize this was supposed to be a fair fight." With that a crackling noise filled the air as they pulled out an electric baton from behind.

"I guess I'll just have to adapt then" You whispered tightening your grip on your sword. This couldn't go on to long you were on a strict time limit. "Let's go"

The intruder made the first move going low aiming her baton at your thigh. You dodged it easily, took the sword in your right hand, freeing up the left one. In order to ball it into a fist and swung catching them in the chin with a fierce uppercut. Their head snapped back as they stumbled a little bit you whirled around bringing your foot up to kick them in the chest. It landed throwing them backward to the floor you brought your sword up ready to bring it down on. The electric baton that was laying flat on the floor. But just as you brought the sword down one of their legs shot up and kicked at your wrists from the side. Knocking the sword from free from your grip it flew to the side skidding to a stop in a dark corner of the room.

As you went to retrieved you were tripped falling to one knee. At that point you were on the defense blocking a flurry of punches and kicks, while staying aware of the electric baton. The whole time your opponent was forcing you to backwards further away from your sword. Eventually the fight was taken to the living room where you finally managed to catch their arm under your own. You twisted getting a cry of pain, and the electric baton clattered to the floor. You kicked it away with your foot, but before you could celebrate the disarm. A projectile was shot out of nowhere attaching itself to your neck sending a jolt of of electricity through your body. Your whole body tensed up as you hissed in pain, and dropped.

A roundhouse kick to the face put you on your back. This time you weren't quick to get back up as when you tried your head spun with dizziness. The intruder stepped over your body to go search for the electric baton. "You put a good fight but you never stood a chance you know. I'm just better." They said making their way back over to you.

It was then the sound of jiggling doorknob made both of freeze in place. The chief was finally home and it didn't matter who was the good guy, or the bad guy. Both of you would be put in comprising positions if discovered in his home. You pushed your way to your feet and stumbled back to the office for your sword. Your opponent let you go and instead went in the opposite direction to leave the way they came. You located your sword placed into back in the scabbard, and slipped upstairs as quiet as a mouse. By the time the door opened, and the chief had entered his home. You had managed to slip back out the window to disappear into the night.

The ride home was exhausting as your body was still feeling some of the hits from the fight. The urge to stop back and ask Fisk if he sent the assassin or whoever was strong. But you held off since the job was complete, and it really didn't make any sense. While you were pretty expendable you were still his best chance at getting all this cleaned up. Because if replacing you was an option he would've done it a long time ago. Why do it while you were in the middle of critical mission for him. Some of those files could be linked to him which is why he was so adamant that vanished from existence tonight. It wouldn't do you any good to dwell on too much tonight. All you wanted to do was soak your sore body in some hot water, face time Kate for a while, and go to bed.

It was nights like these you really hated leaving on the fifth floor. "Lucky boy let's go time for one more walk" You called out to the dog as you entered the apartment. Hitting the light switch to the living room when you walked past. You froze in your tracks at the sight of the intruder from your home standing by the window. Okay now you were positive it was Fisk who sent them. "Alright you have five seconds to take that stupid mask off, and explain how you get in here-" You threatened stalking forward sword secure in your right hand.

But when the person did as you asked the shock of it made you stop again and drop to your knees. It was Yelena who pulled the mask off hair braided back instead of hanging loosely over on her shoulders. "Now go on y/n finish your pathetic threats while you're at it. Why don't you explain to me exactly what the hell you were doing in that chief's house. Also why do you look like the Tracksuit leader Kate warned to me too look out for and protect you from?"

You couldn't find your voice to answer, mock or threaten her anymore. Because when she revealed why she was there in that house trying to take you down. You knew right then it was over. Yelena walked over to look down at you her face twisted in anger.

"Does Kate Bishop know who you really are?"

Tag List: @danveration @yelenabelovasgf @romanoffomixam @xxromanoffxx @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mellowladyangel @shayzulia @musicinourlips @natashasilverfox @jokertgkk @catswag22 @be-missed @lizlil @kacka84 @sapphic-girl @screechcat

[watermelonlovershigh]

Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old

This was requested by this anon.

AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)

Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.

Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.

If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.

"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.

"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.

"Sweets." she says innocently.

"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.

"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.

"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.

This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.

When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.

It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.

He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.

Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.

After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.

Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."

"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger.  Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.

"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.

After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.

"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.

As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"

10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.

"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.

"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.

"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.

When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.

About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"

"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.

By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.

At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.

Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.

About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.

Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."

She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.

"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.

Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.

Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.

"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.

Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when  he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.

Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.

As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.

Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."

The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.

"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.

"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.

Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

[prosaic-bun]

Sal Vindagnyr odds and ends

Pairing: Kaeya x Mc x Albedo

Novelette

Genre: Fluff - Angst (just a little) - Post 1 year timeskip

Author Notes: I'm aware - and it's pretty much confirmed by the number of notes, that some 'transition chapters' are not as exciting. I just wanna reassure everyone, i have a very precise idea of what i wanna tell with this fanfic. If you are still reading my updates, thank you for trusting me to carry out the story <3

Trigger Warning: Brooding

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 (You are here) - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

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Chapter 4

2.3k words

The trio stayed on the top of the Headquarters until the sun fully came out, more and more mondstadians getting outdoors. Soon the hustle bustle of the city reached their ears.

«It’s still early so we have time for breakfast. However we should go meet the Acting Grand Master after we are done eating. Just so we can check in with her since you are now awake.» Kaeya expressed.

«May I bathe before meeting other people? I’d feel more comfortable.» Mc inquired while rubbing away the last remnants of dried tears from his eyes. «Sure, we’ll have water heated up for you.» Albedo stated.

«What would you like to eat? I can start making it while we wait for the bath to be ready?» Kaeya asked. «Something easy on the stomach like some apples and a salad?» Mc noted.

Kaeya smiled gently at Mc before nodding and leaving the rooftop of the Headquarters of the Knights of Favonius. «There is a common room on the third floor, at the opposite of your room. You can come find us there to eat. Your bath will be ready afterwards.» Albedo detailed, making sure Mc would be able to find them without worries. After a few minutes passed basking in the morning light alone, Mc joined the two knights on the third floor. The trio ate in silence and after the last bite, Mc thanked the Cavalry Captain for the light meal. Kaeya was glad the traveler shared with him their Satisfying Salad recipe.

Mc excused himself to go wash himself, bringing with him the knights of favonius uniform Albedo previously fetched for him. The nymph undressed and eased himself into the tub. The warm water of the bath was just the thing to sooth his body after it had to withstand such intense temperature.

Mc took a mere ten minutes to clean himself and two more to dry his body. The standard Favonius uniform didn’t fit perfectly, but it was ok for now. The black long-sleeve shirt and horse riding pants were the good length, but Mc noticed his hips bone poking out of his skin. The time he spent hibernating in a block of ice really weakened his body. At some point it had no other choice than to break down his adipose tissue and muscle fibers to sustain the energy demand of his preservating sleeping state. At least, with the belt being part of the uniform, Mc could somehow make everything hang on his body. The boots were the best part as they weren’t too bulky, pretty light and really well made. He didn’t find any usefulness to the leather shoulder pads or the vambraces so he decided to leave them on the sturdy birch vanity. After all he didn’t need the armor, only knew clothes he could wear to go meet his benefactor. Mc was then escorted by his two favourite knights to the Acting Grand Master’s office on the first floor. Kaeya knocked twice and was soon greeted by Lisa who opened the door before him. Of course Jean was already working, a pile of documents on her desk, but she had managed to enjoy the early morning company of the librarian.

Kaeya introduced Mc to the two women. The nymph was asked to explain the event that led to him being imprisoned in Dragonspine and later found in Albedo’s workshop. The Sal Vindagnyr denizen explained everything. He started with the fall of the Skyfrost Nail and its impact on the mountain. He then moved on to recount how his life was many thousand of years ago, adding more details to his story. Mc told the monstadians how being a nymph placed him in a special position within the Priest inner circle. Back then nymphæ had a propensity to do biddings involving celestial matters. If the cataclysm didn’t happen; at his 25th spring on this land, Mc would have fully taken on his Iatromantis fonctions and would have become an initiate.

«So you are a nymph? I never would have guessed I would meet such a mystical being. It is said your kind was particularly good in a form of alchemy not so far from the art of Khemia.» Albedo breathed out.

Mc chuckled at his bewildered expression. «It’s not like my knowledge rivals the one of the elders. I’m pretty young by Nymphæ standards.»

«If i may, what exactly do you mean by latromantis fonctions?» Jean asked. «It’s a specific name for descendants of nymphæ bloodline that practice celestial, spiritual and magical duties. You could say we were occupying the role of shaman or pontiff in our community.» Mc explained.

«So you must understand how Celestia interacts with this world? I’ve read Teyvat’s earlier civilisations had ways to communicate with the floating island in the sky?» Lisa insisted, hardly concealing her scholarly interest in the man that was seated before her. «Hum it’s hard to say. Celestia is like a figurative black box. You can see the inputs and outputs embroiled in Celestia, but we are left to speculate on what algorithmes manage the celestial realm. For instance there are ways to act if you want to earn the blessings and favors of the Gods. You may interact with the multitude of the Irminsul Tree ramifications or maybe embark on journeys to feed on your aspirations. In any of their forms they somehow tie us to the very fabric of this world. Hence, interacting with them sends inputs that pass through Celestia and return to us in some kind of outputs, signs to decode or more tangible blessings like pieces of advice. On my part, I was tasked with studying the stars, the many cycles observable in nature and understanding interrelations twixt every component of the ecosystem of Teyvat. Us, the heavenly body, the great tree Axis Mundi, nature, the abyss, the dark sea and the dome, we are all connected; a closed microcosm evading every formal definition.» Mc extrapolated. «The dome?» Albedo repeated, asking for clarifications.

«Yet another mystery. The appellation dome is the closest thing scholars were able to present to explain the firmament that either traps us on Teyvat or protects Teyvat from the outside. I couldn’t say which is the case. It is commonly referred to as the fake sky» Mc continued. «I’ve heard of theories before, which are presenting the sky as fake.» Lisa mumbled. «It’s more ambivalent than that actually. Although we can guess there is some kind of dome and the sky itself might look fabricated, it still has an impact on the lives of the people of Teyvat. In my opinion it is too rigid to be natural per se especially in comparison to other natural cycles. But like I said, I never got to be initiated into my formal functions. I was only a novice.» Lisa and Albedo were left pensive while Jean and Kaeya were looking at Mc with wide eyes. «That sums up how my life went up until what it feels like yesterday. However, if it’s not too much I’d like to know more about the world today.» Mc pleaded The Mondstadian took turns reciting the early history of Mondstadt and the many challenges they faced. In all the details, the concept of archons was the one that caught the attention of Mc the most. But it was nothing to the stupor Mc felt when he learned about the cataclysm 500 years ago from present day. «So you're telling me some kind of intangible seats opened up in Celestia and were filled by the gods, leader of 7 nations, and only Khaenri'ah was a country that escaped from the rule of those archons?» Mc restated. «We knew of such a country. I remember mentions of the pride of humankind... But there were no survivors of the cataclysm that unleashed calamities upon Teyvat?»

Albedo and Kaeya exchanged a look. Lisa came to their rescue and pointed out the similarities between Sal Vindagnyr and Khaenri’ah, meaning people could have survived the cataclysm as Mc was an example of such a survivor.

After the heavy topics of conversation, Jean asked what were Mc’s plans for the time being. The nymph didn’t have a clear answer. «I don’t know the etiquette of Mondstadt, but if you would look after me while I get a hold of myself and investigate what you call Dragonspine, I'd be more than content.»

Jean reassured the nymph; he was no longer a nameless sojourner plus he was more than welcome to take part in the way of life of the Knights of Favonius.

And it was that easy. In the next few weeks, the last two weeks' routine morphed seamlessly around Mc no longer being bedridden. At the crack of dawn Mc accompanied Noelle for her basic strength and endurance training, meaning 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats and running two laps around Mondstadt. Well, since the Sal Vindagnyr denizen was still recuperating, he settled to do less repetitions and only walked from the gate of Mondstadt to the end of the bridge and back. By the end of a month he was able to do a hundred repetitions for each exercise and run one lap around Mondstadt while the Favonius Maid did two. Mc would then help Noelle clean up the 3rd floor of the Headquarters.

In the forenoon, Barbara would pass by to prepare healing brew with the talented nymph. When she inquired how he knew so much about medicinal plants, he simply stated that he studied it for most of his life. Before lunch time, Rosaria would often pass by to remind Barbara of her Deaconess duties. Barbara was always surprised to see the odd sister be so lenient on this precise church task. Rosaria would take this opportunity to pry on Mc and ask him questions.

Kaeya usually passed by for lunchtime and whisk Rosaria away if her questions were too blunt. Kaeya always apologized to Mc for his friend's behaviors, but the nymph didn’t take offence to how Rosaria treated him, meaning as a potential threat. Without completely knowing where she was coming from, Mc could accept that not everyone was going to accept him easily. The Cavalry Captain and the nymph would usually go to the common kitchen of the Headquarters and eat the meal together. Sometimes Kaeya would shake things up and take Mc to eat somewhere outside on a bench inside the walls of the city.

In the afternoon, the nymph would join Lisa in the library. The librarian would teach him about current Teyvat, modern history and they would have deep conversations while having afternoon tea. From time to time they were joined with Jean who came to see her girlfriend, but also assessed Mc’s general condition and state of mind.

When evening turn around, Mc would pass time with Albedo to hone his alchemical skills. For the time being Mc and Sucrose were on par and worked effortlessly together. The nymph had a different perception of how alchemy should feel, less constricted to the rigorous rules the mondstadian alchemist trio were used to. So even if Albedo as Chief Alchemist was leaps and bounds ahead of Mc, the nymph found ways to pump new blood into the small workshop whenever they would be stuck before particularly complicated alchemical dilemmas. Albedo was also stunned each time Mc would share bits and pieces of the knowledge he knew from Sal Vindagnyr oral tradition. Sometimes a story, sometimes a song and at other times miscellaneous empirical facts; the way Mc would dispense his knowledge would leave Albedo suspended at the lips of the nymph.

At the end of the day, Mc would spend quiet time in the library in the company of Noelle. While the maid studied or journaled, the nymph would read novels, mostly fiction. He particularly enjoyed The Fox in the Dandelion Sea and was pleased with Breeze Amidst the Forest. Mc thought the last one - a collection of ballads, needed more contemporary editions, that he would devour only if such compilation existed. The latest book he read was The Legend of Vennessa and it prompted numerous discussions with the Favonius Maid. When asked why she wanted to become a knight, Noelle replied that since the Order of the Knights of Favonius is the strongest shield that Mondstadt has, she wanted to make sure to participate in the effort and help Mondstadian to stay carefree. That was her ambition, a contract she made with herself.

The only exception to this daily routine was on sundays. Mc would shut the curtains and hang a note on his room door asking to be left undisturbed. From dawn until dusk, Mc would never be caught outside of his room. Sure the knights were surprised and a little intrigued, but it didn’t affect them in the sligthless so they obliged. For some, the time happened to elapse more slowly, a little spark missing in their day was it at lunchtime or during the evening.

The Sun day - Hēméra Hēlíou, was the moment Mc dealt with his rancor and bitterness. Meditating, crying or laying in a catatonic state on the floor of his room were activities Mc felt appropriate to approach his resentment toward the day of sun worship. Was he revengeful against Celestia? That he didn’t know, but he still had the loss of his people nagging him from millennias apart. So on Sunday, Mc wouldn’t tolerate the slightest ray of sunshine to touch him or even reflect in the slightest on the green lozenges that freckled his skin. Photosynthesis on that nocuous day? He didn’t think so.

Aside from Sunday, Mc allowed himself to cry in two circumstances, in the dead of night or in the baths, completely separating his life in two. The problem with compartmentalizing grief is that at one point it leaks through the box it was placed in. Even though Mc didn’t want his grief to have repercussions in his daily life, emotions negative or positive don’t disappear at will.

Cc. @creatorofstars

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Disaster.

JAVIER PEÑA. ┃ NARCOS.

❝ words: about 1.8k

❝ warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids, language, soft Javi.

❝ summary: Never let Javier do the laundry.

❝ a / n: This is a writing for Javier that has four years or more, but I translated it to English. Dialogues are in spanish, but this work also contains the translations. As always, I hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ❤.

Gif credits to the author.

MASTERLIST. ⎢ MULTIFANDOM TAG LIST.

The sunbeams through the curtains disturb your peaceful sleep, rolling tangled in the soft sheets to toss an arm over Javier's chest. But it falls over the cold mattress. Growling still not awake at all, you palm his empty side of the bed. Sitting up on your left arm, you glance through the door to the living room. No noise outside his dorm that makes you know he's still at his house. Lying on your back and tilting your head with a puff escaping your lips, your eyes land on a hand-written note on his nightstand waiting for you to be read. Kissing your lips, you stretch an arm to grab it. “Te quiero hablar sobre algo más tarde, me esperas, ¿sí? Te amo, pendeja”.

The first time he called you like that was the day you met him —or more precisely, the day you almost ran over him. You remember him with both hands on the hood of your car, screaming at you “¿qué pasó, pendeja? A caso, ¿no me vió?” You were focused on texting your boss, but when you raised your eyes and made eye contact both you and him fell for each other, a fact that surprised you when his partner told you he was a perro; every night with a different woman.

A goofy smile curves your lips, feeling yet the kisses Javier spread last night all over your skin, just hoping he has left some coffee for you when you decide to get up. Directing your steps to his wardrobe, fully naked, you pick one of his t-shirts impregnated with his heavenly smell to wear it. You don't have anything planned for today other than enjoying your free day and wait for him to come back, so when you see the mess his house is in your opinion, you settle on cleaning it.

After having breakfast como Dios manda, you start for the living room. Except for the documents and the archives from his job, you pick up all the trash around, before sweeping the floor and dust the furniture. Once it is done, you continue with the laundry. God, this man has clothes thrown throughout the house. Putting them inside the basket, you bring them to the kitchen, but you have to leave aside your task when you find the washing machine already occupied. You're starting to tremble. Javier is a disaster, and you don't need to be a genius to realize it. So, when you see a red shirt inside, mixed with your white clothes, you pray for everything you know.

Opening the small door, you confirm your suspicion.

“¡PUTA MADRE! ¡NO JODAS! ¡HUEVÓN MALPARIO'!”

(Shit! Son of a bitch!)

Music in Spanish sounds all around the house, with the kitchen as the epicenter. You're cooking something for dinner, wearing a short chiffon dress —that makes your legs stand out and that used to be white, now is some kind of pink—, stalling till Javier comes back. Oh, he's going to pay for what happened.

“¿Mi amor?” The front door gets closed while hearing his voice calling you. “¡Ya regresé! ¿Dónde te metis— whoa, whoa, whoa…”

(¿My dear? I'm back! Where are you?)

Your boyfriend stops in his tracks as his mouth drops to the floor. Taking off his aviator sunglasses, you find him ogling you with eyes widened. He gulps to wet his sore throat while licking his bottom lip.

“A ver, a ver… voltéate”. He whispers waving his index finger doing circle moves.

(Let's see, turn around).

In silence, you obey his petition in slow motion so he can delight with the views, drawing a gunny grimace on your face. When you face him again, he is crossing himself thanking God. Raising both eyebrows, you take some steps closer swinging your hips to provoke him a little more, having so much fun.

“¿Sí te gusta mi vestido, hm?”

(Do you like my dress, hm?)

He just nods his chin fascinated, not being able to speak.

“Está bonito, ¿verdad? Pero… pues más bonito estaba cuando era blanco”. You reply, lifting both arms at the sides of your body.

(It's beautiful, isn't it? But... It was perfect when it was white).

“¿Cómo así, mi amor?”

(What do you mean, my love?)

Javier doesn't understand what's going on when you practically drag him through the kitchen to the clothesline outside, pointing at your white clothes, now of a strange pink discolored, he has to swallow a giggle. Pressing his lips together, he scratches the bridge of his nose doing his best to not laugh.

“A ver, cuéntame el chiste. Así me río yo también”.

(Tell me the joke. So I can laugh too).

“¡No me estoy riendo!” He feigns to be offended raising his hands to his chest.

(I'm not laughing!)

“Seguro… ¿No es esa tu camisa favorita?” You ask making a soft and brief move with your chin.

(Sure... Isn't that your favorite shirt?)

Putting his brown eyes on the piece of clothing he's wearing, he doesn't have a chance to reply when you ruin it and all its buttons by a strong pull, making them fall to the floor. A proud grin curves your lips up, while Javier tries to babble something. But the response to your action is better than you could think.

Crashing his lips on yours, his fingers move faster than you can assimilate to undoing his belt and the zip of his jeans, as he devours your mouth hungry like a stray dog. His tongue fights yours in a battle for dominance, pulling down his clothes before forcing you to turn and face the counter. Javier ruins your thong as easily as you have ruined his shirt, causing you to moan when he obligates you to spread your legs for him.

Bending over the counter and sticking out your ass, hearing him jerking off his delicious cock, your boyfriend digs his hardness as deep as he can into your soaked cunt. You cry out his name inevitably. Javier spits an animalistic groaning onto your ear. It doesn't matter how many times you two have fuck, you always need a second to adjust to his length, but this time he doesn't give you the opportunity. Not losing time, he grabs your throat with his right hand whilst the other presses your body to the counter from behind. Javier rocks his hips furiously, back and forth, running out of air. Soon, your moans and your whinings fill the kitchen, as the dry noise his pelvis produces when it crashes your limits.

“Si querías coger… solo tenías que decirlo”. He hisses lost in the pleasure, thrusting you harder with every move.

(If you wanted to fuck, you just had to ask for it).

It's not like he's mad at you, it's more like he is trying to compensate you for what he has done. He knows to perfection how to worship your body, how to make you feel loved and desired; but he also knows to perfection that you prefer him to be rougher than gentle —pulling your hair, choking you, biting your neck, making you beg.

“Ah, Javi…”

“Sí te gusta que te… coja, ¿no?”

(Do you like how I fuck you, right?)

“Sí, sí… Más rápido, por favor… por favor”.

(Yes, yes... Faster, please... please).

Your right-hand wraps his wrist, securing a little more the grip on your throat before guiding his other to your legs, straight to your throbbing clit.

“Tan ansiosa, tan necesitada mi gatita”.

(So anxious, so needy my kitten).

His forefinger caresses your finger so softly that he could kill you, quite the opposite of his waist.

“Qué rico…” You gasp enraptured, arching your back and tilting your head to reach his lips.

The fight of your tongues continues, drinking each other's pleasing growls, while the pace of his finger increases too close to the orgasm.

“No pares… no pares, por favor”. You beg onto his mouth, trailing his lips after over your jawline down to your neck.

(Don't stop... don't stop, please).

Nailing his teeth causing you to whimper loudly, your legs start to tremble as Javier digs his twitching hardness into you once and once, not letting you breathe for a second and pushing you to the edge. You can't help but scream his name, just like he loves, feeling the tickles exploding within your belly and letting yourself go. Your boyfriend only needs some more pushes straight to your g-spot to come inside you with a delighted howl drown against your neck. His warm seed mixed with your wetness makes him sigh breathless, collapsing over your back as you need to rest your arms over the counter till recovering.

“Me vuelves loco, mujer”. Javier mumbles, placing gentle kisses on your shoulder before caressing it with the tip of his nose.

(You drive me crazy).

Slowly pulling himself out of your overstimulated cunt, stealing you a disappointed whining for the sudden emptiness, he puts on his clothes as you turn around to face him.

“Te ves bien bonita, así toda hecha un desastre”. His perfect and charming smile gives you goosebumps, leaning forward to you to pepper your lips with so much tenderness.

(You look beautiful just like that, messy).

“Qué chistoso”. You chuckle placing both hands on his neck.

(Very funny).

“¿Arrunche en la tina?”

(Cuddles in the bathtub?)

“Por favor”. You just reply before he lifts you on his arms in the most purest bridal style, making you laugh lively and satisfied.

(Please).

In barely a couple of minutes, your bodies are covered by warm water, relaxing every inch of them and making the tension disappear. Javier is lying back on your chest, smoking with both eyes closed as your fingertips gently roam his chest. You have missed him too much today, being something rare for you to not spend your days off together, but he has been through so much work lately.

“¿De qué me querías hablar?”

(What you wanted to tell me?)

“¿Hm…?” Expelling the smoke through his nostrils, Javier raises his chocolate eyes towards yours.

“La nota”. You add referring to the piece of paper you found this morning on his nightstand.

(The note).

“Pensé en que vinieras a vivir conmigo”.

(I was thinking that you could come to live with me).

That's it. No doubts. No questions.

“¿Vivir juntos? ¿Acá?”

(Live together? Here?)

“Sí, acá”. Javier says puckering his lips, moving his mustache funnily. “¿Qué tiene de malo, pues?”

(Yeah, here. What's wrong?)

“Nada, nada… Está bien, me parece chévere”.

(Nothing, it's okay, I like it).

“¿Te parece chévere?” He scoffs sitting up, turning his head towards yours.

(Do you —just— like it?)

“Sí, ¿qué pasó?”

(Yeah, what's up?)

“Pensé que… no sé… que estarías feliz”.

(I thought... I don't know... You'd be happy).

Raising your eyebrows not believing what he's saying, you roll your eyes moving your arms around his neck to push him back again.

“No seas pendejo, Javi… Estoy más que feliz”.

(Don't be an idiot, Javi... I'm more than happy).

Embracing him tightly to your chest, you sink your nose into his neck taking a deep breath from his scent, almost dizzying you.

“Mírate… de perro callejero a perro casero”. You chuckle close to his ear, biting softly his earlobe.

(Look at you... from stray dog to domesticated dog).

“Pendeja…”

[jay-and-dean]

Yet another thing to celebrate

Dean x reader

Summary (I used the requester’s words) :  Reader’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, which generally sucks because everyone is either skint or celebrating Christmas.

Warnings : Fluffy fluff with a little fluff whipped cream on top. Very implied smut.

Wordcount : 3.6k

Note : This is my fic for @girl-next-door-writes Secret Santa (I reaaally hope you like it lovely, merry Christmas and happy birthday) hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr​ on @spnsecretsantaficexchange​.

I also made my participation to the amazing @acklesterritory​‘s celebration challenge, in the fic, my prompt was “I saw that, you just checked me out”, it’s bold in the fic.

The song refered to is She’s always a woman, by Billie Joel.

The text dividers are from the great @firefly-graphics​

Jay’s Masterlist

          Christmas…

           Before you even open your eyes, you sigh, grabbing the soft pillow in your fist and nuzzling on its softness in a sleepy grunt.

You don’t hate this day, but it often makes you a little sad despite your will to enjoy it fully. It is your birthday. December 24, the busiest day in the country, damn, in the whole West. And even if you are not the kind to want the full attention on you, to be spoiled or anything, you just wish sometimes that, for once, you could have a proper birthday.

           When you were a teen, you more than once even dared dreaming of a party you could throw, but Christmas is about family and basically about everyone. Not you.

           You dream of a little birthday party with friends, some drinks, music, maybe dancing a little... But it would be impossible unless you do it way before or way after, and it wouldn't really be the same...

           This year is different though.

           This winter, even if the celebration of your birth was totally forgotten, you don’t need anything more than what you have now. And what you have is Dean Winchester. Nothing is more important than that, nothing can make you happier.

           In fact, nothing can really make you feel any other way than blessed after this summer. After Dean kissed you on that hunt, after you two had sex in the Impala on your way home ; after later he asked you to stay in his bed for the night that other evening you both ended up naked. And finally, after he asked you to stay in his room for good a few weeks later, and started calling you his girlfriend.

           You smile thinking of waking up next to him and move your feet to find his behind you. But when you don’t, you turn and rub your eyes before opening them.

           Empty. Your shared bed is empty.

“Dean ?” is the first word you say, but the room stays cruelly silent.

Of course… It’s Christmas. He must be busy, like everyone is always on that day… The sting on your heart comes back... You have woken up with the man you love every single morning for the last few months, but not today.

           That is how lame your birthday can be.

           After staying in bed almost one hour, trying to shake that blues off by thinking of how blessed you are, you finally are about to get up and face that stolen day, but the door opens slowly.

           You close your eyes, not really knowing why, maybe just to avoid having to find an explanation for not getting up before if you were awake. The bed moves under Dean’s weight as he crawls on it slowly but you don’t move, even when he clumsily crushes your arm a little while hovering you.

“Happy birthday Baby” he whispers with his coffee breath close to your face. “Have you decided to skip today ? It’s almost noon.”

“Mh…” you hum, lifting your arms to reach his neck, desperate to feel his skin. “Thank you.”

You hesitate a second, wanting to ask him why he got up without you today, why he didn’t wake you with kisses and sweet words like he often does, but you don’t say anything, grateful enough that he got tired of you not being with him and came to get you.

           He lets a part of his weight fall on you, making you huff and laugh softly. His scruff scratches your shoulder, the rough fabric of his jeans is uncomfortable and his belt is digging to your hip but you wouldn't change a thing.

           Your hand goes to his neck and massages it softly, he hums, and you feel his body softly relax. You always know just how to calm him, how to make him fall back asleep after a nightmare, how to make his muscles calm after the roughest hunts. But after less than a minute, he grunts, sitting up.

"No, no" he shakes his head. "You're not making me skip that day with you ! Get up Baby."

He grabs your shoulders and playfully shake them, not realizing that even his kidding strength is huge.

"Geeet uuuup" he chuckles when your whole body is shaken and your laugh sounds funny because of it.

           The warm water runs along your hair and down your spine, and a soft steam fills the bathroom. For sure, that was a great late breakfast, with pancakes Dean had made for you, and his little stolen kisses.

           He is really making this day better.

           Maybe you can forget about your birthday now, and just enjoy Christmas like a normal person. You are loved, and you are happy, you don't need anything else.

           Washing your hair, you smile thinking of the tree the boys have bought, so big that they struggled to carry it up the stairs. You chuckle at thinking of Dean grumbling about the thorns covering Baby's seats. They even bought bags mysterious decorations and fairy lights they never let you see. The library now smells like Christmas tree.

           We're celebrating this year, Dean said. And in the years you have known the Winchesters, you indeed never saw them put so much effort in a holiday.

           A lot of things keep surprising you.

           Sam once told you that his brother had changed a lot since he was with you, making you worry more than anything else. You never wanted Dean to change, you love Dean just the way he is... Then you understood what Sammy was saying...

           You understood in the little things. Like Dean's new love for late mornings in bed, like him drinking a little less, being a little less reckless during hunts, humming in the shower, letting go more in bed, allowing himself to give up the constant control he has on himself... And in his will to celebrate Christmas. Dean is not different, he is just happier.

           Your eyes get a little wet with joy at the thought while your rub your body with the delicious smelling foam.

           Forget your birthday, if Dean's happiness demands this day to be the Christmas he didn't have as a kid, the Christmas he is finally allowing himself to want, then you are honored to help him make it perfect.

           You step out of the shower and your eyes meet the big mirror. In the middle of it, written with a big finger on the thick steam : "I love you Y/n".

           Your choice is made : This will be Christmas. This will be anything to make that man as lucky as you are.

"How can I help ?" you say, entering the kitchen where Dean is apparently trying to make cookies, wearing this apron he only puts on for great occasions.

"I'm making cookies men like in Shrek" he says pointing to the not-so-bad gingerbread biscuits he already cooked with his finger covered in dough.

           You come behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, forehead on his back, just feeling his breathing for a second. Dean doesn't stop what he is doing because he is used to you tenderly and randomly holding him, his clean fingers only come to gently caress your arm for a second before he shapes another cookie, chuckling when he adds a tiny penis to the little guy.

"I love you too" you murmur, nose grazing his back to bath in his smell.

He hums.

"We will eat dinner pretty early, I hope you're hungry" he says, looking at his watch. "I want to enjoy some time with my girl after."

You smile, getting on your tiptoes to kiss the uncovered skin of his neck above the collar of his flannel. He wants a lazy evening, making love like you do, or maybe try a kinky thing ; what is sure is you will gladly give him what he wants.

           Time goes by sweetly as you watch this deadly warrior check the turkey while his equally legendary warrior brother prepares another round of eggnog for the three of you. They move around like busy bees in the room and it's a perfect show.

           You sit on the counter, talking about silly things, sometimes doing something to help, when your boyfriend lets you. You keep sipping from the sugary drink, and watching the beauty of Dean just be before your eyes. Unaware of how perfect he is in his every moves, he just works with his strong arms and skilled hands.

           Your eyes linger a little along his thick thighs, and you bend your head to the side to enjoy the exquisite sight of the sensual curve of his butt.

"I saw that, you just checked me out" he says in a smile without even turning around.

"And ?" you let out in a chuckle. "What are you going to do about that ?"

At your surprise, he starts to rock his hips from right to left slowly in clumsy funny moves of his butt, like he wanted to sexy dance for you without stopping what he is doing, earning an eye roll from his brother when his hip hits him on his way.

           Christmas is already perfect.

           The table is beautiful. Different courses in pretty plates you didn't know the guys had filling it like you have only seen in the movies. There is way too much food for three people but you are so happy that your beloved Winchester can eat like they want for Christmas eve.

           Everything is pretty, the giant messy tree has real bright decorations on it and there are even a few presents at its feet, wrapped messily in colorful papers.

           But their most impressive work is the light in the room, changing the place completely. Almost none of the artificial lights of the bunker is on, and a subdued ambiance with fairy lights and candles make it look even more magical than it usually is.

"When did you find the time to do all that ?" you smile with unintended wetness in your enthralled eyes. "It looks... enchanted in here."

"You stayed in bed until noon" Dean says in a light chuckle, pulling a chair for you and putting a kiss on your cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"It's perfect, Deanie" you turn your head so his next kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. "Merry Christmas guys."

Sam sits, rubbing his hands at the sight of the turkey, and starts reminding his brother of an old memory of a past Christmas you listen with all your focus. Everything that can make you know more about their life always catches your full attention. You are, after all, their biggest fan.

           The story is about a Christmas when Dean was a teen. He had spent the night between 23th and 24th December with a girl and was really late to come back to the motel. Sam thought maybe he wouldn't be back for diner, he had already taken the cereals out of the closet when Dean showed up carrying the whole cooked Turkey he had stolen from the girl's parents.

           You look at your boyfriend with all the love in the world and bend to give him a kiss on the forearm while he cuts a piece of this not stolen meat for you.

"Her parents were dicks, and I couldn't let you starve, dad would have killed me" Dean chuckles, filling your plate.

           But you know the story must be really different from just that, Dean never brags about how great he was with Sam.

           You let out a little moan, tasting the food and Dean’s face is lit by a wide proud grin.

“It’s good ?” he asks before he even tastes, an excited hope in his eyes.

“Delischious” you answer with your mouth full, a hand before it.

           And indeed, everything is perfect. Dean, as much as Sam can playfully denies it, is a great cook. He has no technique, no cooking education, but what he has is a real love for food and comfort, a great experience on mixing things and tasting that gives him a perfect intuition. And, above all, the strong selfless will of saying "I love you" with food like some people have.

           Sitting on the floor next to the tree, you hold against you the red flannel Dean finally agreed to give you, and the books Sam bought for you. Your head is leaning lovingly on your lover's shoulder while he looks, exited, at the vinyl records he got, humming his favorite songs.

           You crawl between his thighs and rest your back on his chest, your head back, temple grazing his scruff.

"Best Christmas ever" you smile, feeling his lips graze your cheek. "So what is the program of a Winchester Christmas after that ?"

You close your eyelid and take a deep breath of Dean's scent, expecting a sexy proposition.

"We're going somewhere" he smiles, and, when you open your eyes, you see Sam put on his coat.

"Now ?" you frown, a little confused. "Where ?"

Dean gets up, putting you on your feet with his strong arm, and takes his coat and yours from Sam's hands.

"I'm not telling you. Take your jacket and get in the car."

           He is silent on the road despite all your questions.

           You listen to the car's purring and look outside to try to guess where they are taking you. The white snow covers the sides of the road with a very thin and delicate layer, the headlights are hit with little swirling snowflakes, and no clue betrays their surprise.

           Sam is smiling, looking out the window. You know they have been planning something, and you know you will love it. Maybe they will show you a place they used to go when they were kids, maybe take you to a special place where you can see the stars so clearly, like this time last summer.

"Come on Dean" you say, kneeling on Baby's back seat to wrap your arms around him from behind, going down a little to feel his firm chest though his shirt under your palms. "Tell me."

"You can't wait just five minutes" he tries to grunt, but it sounds more like a chuckle.

           You fall silent, not letting go of him, holding him like the precious treasure he is, occasionally smelling his hair, kissing his shoulder and tracing the contours of his ear. You just can't stop touching him, and since that talk you had after sex once, you know how much he loves it.

"Aw" Sam mocks you like he often does. "You two are so cute."

"Fuck yeah we are" Dean groans, turning right to a one way road.

"You know Christmas is already perfect" you smile. "You don't have to surprise me again."

"Yeah, I know" he says, parking in front of a bar. "But, it's not only Christmas today."

           You look around, confused. The guys open the door, letting the freezing cold enter the Impala, and get out in a perfect sync. You follow them, lifting your eyes to the colorful neon lights reflecting in the snowy night. Around on the parking lot, more cars than you would have expected are parked, and you wonder who would spend Christmas eve in a bar like this one.

           But before you can wonder why they would have taken you there, to this bar you never heard off, your boyfriend's hand wraps around your waist and he guides you inside, pushing the heavy doors.

           The first thing that hits you is the perfect warmth of the inside. The temperature is perfect but not only : the music is smooth like honey, it's this kind of blues that is paradoxically happy and comforting, it smells like wood and whiskey ; and above all, here too, there is something about the light that feels like a hug.

           The second thing that hits you is the welcoming familiar face of Garth smiling to you.

"Garth ?" you frown and feel Dean's lips graze your ear. "Happy birthday Baby."

He lets go of you to walk to the people there at the bar, arms open to greet them, letting you stunned.

           You are recognizing all you friends there, still in their Christmas clothes, walking to you to hug you and bring you drinks and for a few seconds, your body just stays still.

           No one is missing, not one person. And, even if you don't have hundreds of friends since you joined the hunter life, you have never seen a room so full of love.

"Let me take your coat" Jody says, seeing you froze to the spot.

"I... You're here for me ? Th-they planned all that ?" you stammer with some watery emotions filling your eyes.

"Dean did" Jody smiles. "We followed."

             You're sipping from that delicious drink the bartender made according to your tastes, unable to take that smile off of your face. Donna, a little tipsy in her pretty outfit, is telling sexy jokes with a full dimpled smile, making Sam chuckle and Charlie high-five her, spilling a little of her drink on you.

           From the corner of your eye, you look at him.

           He is bending on the pool table with a smirk, his beer next to him. From here, you can't hear what he is saying to the other players, but it seems a little cocky. After only a few seconds staring at him, it's like he felt it and he looks up, giving you the cutest wink.

           And you blush. Because even after all you have lived together, even after the kinky experiences, the intimate moments, after seeing him cry, yell, suffer or come... A wink is still enough to turn you to a blushing mess.

           All evening, he has been keeping his distance just a little. Not avoiding you at all but not clinging to you, to let you enjoy your friends, to let you have the full experience of a birthday party like you dreamed of since you were a teen.

           A birthday with loud silly discussions, a lot of drinks, inventing silly tipsy games with your best friends, trading your clothes in the bathroom, catching up as much as dancing with each other... And you never felt loved that much.

           Dean's love is the sun in the middle of your world, but now you can also see the stars, and it is probably the best night of your life so far.

           He managed to do something you never could for years and all your friends agreed with his crazy plan. They all had an early Christmas diner to be able to drive here, offer you too many drinks and be there for you. They all made it about you and you're both incredibly grateful and emotional. And since most of them will come sleep at the bunker -and eat all the leftovers with you tomorrow- you don't have to care about the time.

           Suddenly, a music note catches your ear.

           You know that note by heart. It is the first note of your favorite love song, it is the firsts notes of what Dean hums in your ear sometimes when he holds you after making love to you, pushing your hair on the side to see your sweaty bliss face.

           You turn you head and meet green eyes, closer than you expected.

"Hey" he says, taking your hand.

"Hey" you smile.

He tugs gently at your arm, pulling you away from the bar to wrap his arms around your waist.

           You have missed him. Of course he was here, but after everything he has done for you, you really have missed holding him, smelling his skin and kissing his lips.

           He starts to sway his hips really slightly, humming the love words of the song, and you throw your arms around his neck, looking up at his perfect face.

"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes..." he whispers the lyrics, fingers grazing the skin of your neck.

And for the hundredth time today, your eyes fill with happy tears while his fingertips go down on your back to hold your waist again.

"Are you having fun ?" he asks low, one hand stroking your lower back tenderly, thumb pushing your shirt up discreetly to feel your skin.

"It's the best night of my life" you give him your most sincere smile. "Dean... You are really incredible, you know that ?"

"Yeah" he nods, hiding his shyness in a kiss on your lips.

"I really was ready to chose Christmas, you know ?" you state, swaying your hips slowly with him, forgetting the rest of the world in your bubble of love.

His plumb lips gently raise on the corner, and he lets go of you to search his pocket.

"I didn't have to choose between hunter life and happy life thanks to you, so I'll make sure you never have to choose between your birthday and Christmas" he murmurs in your ear, before kissing your temple.

His hand reach yours and he opens it to put a little thing on your palm.

"What do you say we had yet another thing to celebrate on that day ?" his breath tickles  your neck and you look down to your hand, discovering a little golden ring with a tiny blue stone in the middle of your shaking palm.

"Dean ?"

"Marry me Baby ?"

FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

Tags : @parinarain​​ @mogaruke​​ @masterof-agony​​ @rainflowermoon @tftumblin​​ @deans-baby-momma​​ @roonyxx​​ @thefaithfulwriter​​ @vicariouslythruspn​​ @emeow1496​​ @daryldixonandfrogs​​ @holylulusworld​​  @cocklesbelli @sandlee44​​ @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx​​ @stormchasingchick32​​ @akshi8278​​ @magssteenkamp​​ @sister-winchesters99​​ @neii3n​​  @lyss-dw79​​ @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​​ @mrspeacem1nusone​​ @stylesismyhubs​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @jawritter​​ @peridottea91​​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​​ @vicmc624​​ @teresa-67​​ @jessie-michael​​ @doctor-hp-mcu​​ @hawkerz12​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @hobby27​​ @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​ @suramyaa @yasreadsfics​

[atsukashii]

hi! for the event could i request: lana x bakugo katsuki + she/her pronouns + ☀️+ orange

thank you!!

life goes on like this again

✘ waking up to your boyfriend is one of the best things, although waking up to him cooking shirtless in your kitchen - yeah that takes the cake.

✘ GENRE: fluff

✘ WARNINGS: none

✘ WORD COUNT: 1.6k

✘ A/N: i got your message about changing your character to daichi, so i hope you like it!

Morning light paints the world behind your eyelids a mixture of shades of pink and orange, and once you open your eyes, the room around you isn’t much different. Early morning light gently slips through the cracks of your open blinds, turning the white walls of your room into a flux of pastel dawn colours. Trying to stay in bed for as long as possible, you turn over, pulling your sheets higher over your shoulder and cocooning yourself deeper into the warmth, more than content to just close your eyes and go back to sleep. However the lack of a presence next to you makes it borderline impossible, and soon enough you find your feet hitting the wooden floors of your apartment before you shuffle out of bed to do your morning routine.

Once you emerge from the bathroom feeling a little bit more awake, you slink down the hallway, not thinking that the noise of sizzling in the kitchen is anything abnormal. However, the second the wafting stench of something burning meets your nose do you wake up completely. With hastened steps, you walk to the kitchen, worried that your boyfriend left something on the stove before he left for work - something that would be uncharacteristic of him. But as you round the wall and step into the kitchen, a soft smile pulls at your lips.

Standing in front of your stove, shirtless, with his broad shoulders tense and looking more bronze in the warm morning light from your kitchen window - stands your boyfriend. Daichi looks like something you’ve plucked out of a dream, and whilst he hasn’t noticed you, simply standing there and appreciating him is what you plan to do; even if he’s currently glaring at whatever he’s trying to cook in the pan.

But Daichi Sawamura has eyes in the back of his head, you’re sure of it. You’re only standing there, staring at his back for only a few seconds before he’s glancing your way, his brown eyes flashing in surprise before a groan tears out of his mouth. You raise your eyebrows at his reaction.

“No no no, go back to bed, they’re not done.” Daichi complains, with pinched brows. He was concentrating really hard on whatever he was cooking, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Ignoring his protests, you smile as you wrap your arms around his toned waist and press a soft kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Are you cooking…” you start, tilting your head to see around his large frame, and into the pan sitting on the stove. The circular and flat thing in the pan gives it away straight away, making butterflies flutter inside your stomach.

“Pancakes?”

“More like cremating them,” he mutters under your breath, and you have to bite your lip to restrain yourself from giggling. You gently tap his abs with your hand and press your cheek to his back, closing your eyes and taking in the warmth that comes from being close to him.

“It’s the thought that counts, right?” You’re one hundred percent sure that your statement would have been far more convincing if your stomach hadn’t chosen that exact moment to growl in protest.

Daichi pivots on his feet, so that his side is pressed against your front and looks down at you frowning. Not at your words, you think, but the whole situation.

“No, it’s not the thought that counts because you can’t eat thoughts to sustain yourself.” Daichi replies with a pointed look. You’re trying really hard not to smile, because you can see how flustered he is about this, so instead you just tilt your head and let a sliver of one slip through.

“Daichi, really it's fine.” You promise, but your words fall on deaf ears as he finally turns to you fully, and you can tell he wants to cross his arms but can't because of your position and the fact he’s got a spatula still in one hand, so instead he just rubs his face. “I’m more surprised that you’re home. It’s a weekday after all.”

The man drops his hand from his face, his hair now a mess from him messing with it, but you think he’s never looked more handsome than in this moment.

“I wanted to take a day off to spend with my girl, and make her breakfast in bed, is that too much to ask?” He asks exasperatedly, waving the spatula around in his other hand.

“Apparently so,” you joke, quickly hip checking him away from the stove, before grabbing the pan and scooping the blackened pancake into the trash. Swiftly washing the pan, you return to the stove once more, turn on the heat and begin to cook the rest of the pancake batter. This time, it's Daichi who is standing behind you, watching over your shoulder as the butter melts in the pan, and you finally pour some batter noto the hot skillet.

“You see, this is why I wanted to cook you breakfast, because you’re always doing the work.” Your boyfriend complains in a groan, resting his forehead against your shoulder as if admitting defeat. A sweet smile pulls at your lips as you take in his gratefulness, because it’s the truth. You’re the one who cooks the meals for you both a lot, but the main reason for that is because you actively enjoy it. A fact he knows well, because he’d never stand for it if you didn’t.

“Yeah but I actually enjoy it. And please, you cook for me sometimes.” You can feel the look he gives you as he raises his head from your shoulder. “Today just isn’t a good example,” You finish, biting your lip to stop you from giggling at his antics.

“I know you enjoy it, I’d never let you cook food for me otherwise.” There ya go. “But I still feel like you do a lot around here, and I'm…” his voice trails off, and you immediately turn around to face him. His voice lacks any of the dominating confidence that he carries without knowing, and that alarms you. You don’t need to look into his eyes to see something is bothering him, but as you mentally make a checklist of his tells, you need to ask.

“Daichi, what’s this actually about?” You ask, your head tilting slightly as his eyes slink away from yours, settling on the small potted herbs resting on your windowsill.

“I was talking to one of the new recruits yesterday, and he made a passing comment after he saw the lunch you made for me.” He explains, and you nod your head encouraging him to continue. You’ve always made him a work lunch from the day you moved in seeing as he had a tendency to get intensely serious in what he was doing, and would often forget to eat. But if you made him food, he’d feel guilty if he forgot to eat it. Had you essentially guilt tripped your boyfriend into being healthy and not forgetting meals, yes, and it was worth it.

“And he mentioned that I was lucky that I have someone that does everything for me, and It made me realise how little i put into this relationship.” Daichi admits and you blink at him for a moment.

And the next, you wack him in the bicep with the plastic spatula in your hand.

“Ow!” he curses, clutching his arm, even though you both know you only tapped him. SO instead, with your free hand, you point right in his face with your index finger, and level him with your most serious glare.

“Now you listen to me Daichi Sawamura, you do not lack effort in this relationship. You are not putting in abysmal amounts. You are the love of my life, and you make me so happy by just simply being in the same room as me, and the fact that you come home to me every day, call me on your break when you're bored, or buy me flowers randomly because you know I'll love them. That is more than enough.” You argue, poking his bare chest with your finger.

“And if anyone tries to tell you that you are anything less than the perfect boyfriend, you’ll have to help me hide a dead body.” Your chest heaves as you finally get all the words out. Daichi is the perfect partner in every sense of the word and the fact that some recruit made him feel less than that really pisses you off.

You’re about to ask for his number so you can beat him with your spatula before warm lips are pressed to yours with a force that almost knocks you back onto the stove. However, strong arms wrap around your waist, stopping the accident before it happens, and you drop the utensil to the floor to slip your hands into Daichi’s short dark hair. Once again you’re gasping for breath when he pulls away, but the smile stretched across his face almost has your head spinning.

“Thank you sunshine, I- I really needed that.” He whispers, placing another kiss to your brow before leaning his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” You close your own eyes, reveling in the peace of the moment, and content that he finally sees what you do.

But the smell of burning interrupts the moment and you immediately curse, turning on your boyfriend and yanking the pan with the now burnt pancake off the heat. Daichi erupts into loud, heart filled laughter from behind you, and you give up, putting the pan in the sink still with the ruined food inside before turning to your boyfriend.

“Want to go out for breakfast?” He asks through his laughter and you nod your head, grinning right along with him. It was the little things like days like today, that made you fall in love with Daichi a little deeper.

✘ EVENT STATUS : CLOSED ✘

[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

Fic: I'm holding tight cause it feels alright, my love, when I'm with you

Summary: After a long day at work, Jack and Ianto get to spend a lazy early night in.

Author’s note: I wrote this for the @torchwoodfanfests​ 2020 Bingo Fest, for the prompts ‘cold/warm’ and ‘vegetables’. The fic and my bingo card are under the cut, or if you prefer, you can read it on AO3 here!

This story was betaed by the lovely @moonlightrhosyn​, and the title is from 'When I'm With You' by Eleisha Eagle, an extremely Janto song that I recommend to anyone reading this.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1773

“Hey,” Jack was shaking his shoulder softly to wake him. Ianto groaned in protest. 

“Come on, sleeping beauty. You can go back to sleep after you’ve had something to eat. Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipping lunch.”

Ianto rolled over on the sofa where he’d fallen asleep to stretch himself awake. His spine cracked, and he relaxed back into the comfortable cushions.

“All of us missed lunch,” he protested. Jack was looking down at him with one of those warm smiles that made his eyes look soft, hands on his hips and head tilted as he took in the slightly red mark on Ianto’s cheek where the throw pillow had left an imprint. Ianto hadn’t bothered changing when they got home, he’d just taken off his jacket and his shoes and had gone straight for the sofa to nap while Jack cooked, since Jack had insisted on cooking dinner. 

Ianto had been ready to go to sleep for as long as the rift allowed, but Jack wanted to feed him before they turned in for their well-deserved rest - it had been a long 40 hours - and in order to get Ianto to agree he offered to make him some spaghetti bolognese. Damn that man for exploiting Ianto’s weaknesses. 

“Yes, we did,” Jack agreed as he reached for Ianto, who was still sprawled comfortably on the sofa, wrapped in his cosy black duvet with only his head and feet peeking out. Ianto grabbed the duvet and held it against him so Jack couldn’t pull it back. 

“But there’s no reason for us not to eat now,” Jack cajoled. He tried to pull the duvet gently away but Ianto was holding fast. 

“It’s cold,” Ianto complained, fully aware he sounded petulant. He pouted for good measure. He knew Jack’s weaknesses too, and he was not above using them to get what he wanted.

He could see the hit land when Jack’s face softened further. 

“You can bring your cocoon to the table if you want. Or I can warm you up...”

Jack’s suggestive eyebrows were exaggerated and ridiculous, and Ianto thought it probably said something about him that they ratcheted up his desire to kiss Jack by about 50% - a desire that was always already present in him to some extent these days, by the way. If Jack wasn’t so willing to receive and reciprocate Ianto’s kisses at any time and place, Ianto would bemoan the unfairness of it all. As it was, he really couldn’t complain.

And there was no reason not to indulge himself right now, Ianto thought.

He sat up, letting the duvet fall around him, reached up to grab a handful of Jack’s shirt and pulled on it to get him closer. Jack went with the movement, leaning down to let himself be kissed.

After letting him go, Ianto sighed in mock annoyance. “Fine,” he groused, pretending to be terribly put upon by having to agree to eat Jack’s delicious home-made pasta, which was also his favourite dish. “But I’m getting a sweater first. It really is freezing.”

“It’s not too cold in the kitchen,” Jack told him as Ianto grudgingly pulled the duvet all the way off and got up to go to his room. 

“Might as well change anyway,” Ianto mused, looking down at his rumpled shirt. It was already a mess from the weevil chase the previous night, not to mention their encounter and subsequent fight with the pair of blowfish that morning.

“Alright. I’ll set the table in the meantime. Don’t take too long, the food will get cold.”

Ianto nodded, and went to change.

***

Three and a half minutes later, Ianto walked into the kitchen wearing polar fleece pyjama bottoms, fuzzy slippers, and an old Star Wars t-shirt. He was carrying one of his favourite sweaters in one hand in case Jack had been wrong and the kitchen was cold, but Jack was happy to see he left it on the back of a chair as he sat down. The steam from the pots had warmed up the kitchen when he cooked, making the small room comfortably warm despite the winter chill outside.

“Hmm, that smells amazing,” Ianto commented, making Jack beam. He didn’t have time to cook very often, what with Torchwood being Torchwood, and he didn’t care to put in the work when it was just him anyway. It had been a while since he’d had someone to cook for, and he relished the opportunity.

Plus, Ianto had zero cooking skills or interest in acquiring any, and would happily live off takeaway if Jack let him.

He served them both a generous portion, aware they’d both been too busy to get more than a rushed breakfast and several servings of coffee for the past twelve hours. It wouldn’t matter for Jack, given his regenerative abilities, but he didn’t want Ianto’s immune system to suffer more than was absolutely necessary due to the demands of their job.

Jack saw Ianto made a face as he sat down, and he had to swallow a laugh, knowing exactly what was going to come out of Ianto’s mouth next.

“You put vegetables in my spaghetti bolognese,” Ianto deadpanned. “What is that?” he questioned, picking at the dish with his fork. “Broccoli? Jack, you heathen.”

Jack noticed it didn’t stop him from seasoning his plate or adding several spoonfuls of grated cheese to it.

“You need vegetables for a balanced diet,” Jack said with a grin. It was a topic they’d discussed many times. When it wasn’t Jack bringing it up by telling Ianto he needed them to stay healthy, it was Ianto complaining when Jack cooked for him and used ‘too many vegetables’. At this point it was more an inside joke than an actual complaint, though; Ianto had learned that Jack had the magical ability to make the dreaded vegetables taste good by seasoning them, so he didn’t actually mind. 

“It’s an affront to the dish,” Ianto countered, not meaning it whatsoever.

“Absolutely not, if anything, it elevates it. Besides, I roasted it in butter and garlic with the onions, you’ll like it. Trust me.”

Ianto took a big first bite with no hesitation, belying his complaints. 

He moaned shamelessly, utterly distracting Jack from his own plate for a moment.

“Alright, you were right. This is incredible.”

That made Jack grin again. 

They were too hungry and run-down from running from one crisis to another for the past two days, so they mostly ate in silence after that. 

Jack pondered getting a second serving despite being full, but decided against it. Ianto was drooping in his chair, looking like he might fall asleep over his empty plate, and truth be told Jack was feeling the exhaustion himself, despite his enhanced stamina. 

He sent Ianto to do his night routine and put the leftovers away, taking the time to wash the dishes so they wouldn’t be left in the sink if they got a work emergency and had to leave in a hurry. Who knew how long they might be away if that happened; they often stayed at the Hub when things were busy or if they were on call for the night. Thankfully, Tosh had agreed to be on call that night, diverting the rift alert to her phone in case anything showed up, so they wouldn’t have to be available until the next morning. 

An early night in where he could cook for Ianto and then go to sleep with him in the flat they unofficially shared had sounded divine to him. And it was. It was exactly what they needed to recharge.

Jack walked to the bathroom to find Ianto brushing his teeth with his eyes half-closed. He might fall asleep standing up if he didn’t go to bed soon. His hair was standing up where he’d ran his hand through it and his eyelids were losing the fight with his exhaustion and he looked sleep-soft and rumpled and all Jack wanted to do was walk him to bed and tuck him in, then slip in beside him and hold him through the night.

Jack took his own toothbrush from the glass and brushed his teeth next to him, his arm grazing against Ianto’s as they stood side by side, and Jack couldn’t help the rush of warmth and contentment at the wonderful domesticity of the moment. It had been years since he’d had a moment like this before Ianto. Glancing at the sleepy man on the counter mirror, he realised that possibly, he’d never had a moment like this before Ianto. 

Ianto knew everything about him. Not in the sense of knowing all the details; Jack had lived a long and eventful life, after all, and telling him everything would take more time than they had with their usually full schedule. But he knew all the key elements of what made Jack himself, all the painful secrets he had been forcibly, painfully made aware that he couldn’t trust people with, because they were the kind of thing that would alienate others, making them turn their backs on him, or because then they might be used against him.

(He’d been betrayed so many times.)

(You’d think he’d grow a thicker skin, that the sting of it would dull with time and experience. Not so.)

His thoughts were interrupted by Ianto finishing up and placing a kiss on his shoulder. 

“Come to bed soon,” he slurred sleepily, and just like that all of Jack’s other thoughts were banished, leaving only room for affection for this man.

“I will,” Jack answered after rinsing, and Ianto rewarded his words with a small warm smile before shuffling to the bedroom.

Jack realised he was smiling when he caught sight of his own reflection.

Ianto was already asleep when Jack joined him only a few minutes later. 

He slipped under the covers on what had become his side of the bed, scooting close to feel the warmth Ianto was radiating, and to his surprise Ianto stirred, the two of them rearranging themselves in effortless concert so that Ianto’s chest was pressed flush against Jack’s back, one arm thrown over his side to hold him close against his chest.

Jack felt Ianto’s breath on the back of his neck as he mumbled, “G’night”. Ianto’s feet brushed against his under the covers before stilling again.

“Good night,” Jack said softly, feeling cared for and safe and helplessly in love.

Warm and content as he was in Ianto’s arms, in one of the two beds they’d been sharing for the past several months, it didn’t take long for Jack to doze off.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Hewo! I know I was literally just hear but like, I like your inbox soooooooo yeh. ALSO you introduced me to my new obsession *coughAnalosleepcough* and that deserves some recognition or whatever. So uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, meep. quack quack. moo. mooove bitch get out the way. (in a john cena voice) ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT. I'm feeling very memey right now. Send help. Or send me Analosleep fics\headcanons. Whatever works to make sure I don't die. I'm sowwy I have done this (Not really tho)

oh,,,, so you want analosleep do you,,,, :3

a dangerous thing to say to an idle Me, Hewo…. a dangerous thing….

(warnings for sleep deprivation, self-deprecation specifically around feeling things/feeling sad, referenced nightmares + isolation, panic attack, happy ending ofc; tagging @emo-disaster for the fic idea + the fact that it’s their ot3 I’m legally obligated to tag ‘em)

~~

When Logan shot up in bed in the dead of night, his first instinct was to slam a hand over his mouth.

Of course, this seemed to be a poor choice on his part- it was hard to breathe through sobs when you couldn’t pull in the air through your mouth, as sobbing often demanded you do- but in reality, it was the most logical one. It was the only way to muffle his sobs; aka, it was the only way to make sure he didn’t wake up his partners. They were cuddled against him, Virgil simply curling into his side whereas Remy had their arm through over his midsection. Though both were snoring softly, Logan knew that, if he wasn’t very careful, they’d be awake soon enough. Insomnia and poor sleeping habits made both of them into very light sleepers.

Which made the whole ‘not waking them as he fell apart’ thing a little difficult.

Slowly, Logan lifted Remy’s arm off of himself, tucking it against his partner’s side. Remy stirred at the movement, and Logan immediately froze, holding his breath as well as he could until Remy seemed to have settled back down.

He pushed himself up, careful not the creak the mattress too much as he quietly jumped over Remy. He hit the ground quietly enough, the result of having pulled this move off many times for happier reasons- usually to escape Remy trying to keep him in bed all day (and often being immediately caught a moment later by Virgil) or to get out so he could make a surprise breakfast for his partners. Using it in such unpleasant circumstances was grim, but if it worked…

Logan was careful as he crept out of the bedroom, well aware of exactly where the hazards and noisy spots were. He moved towards the dresser first, claiming his glasses before moving towards his escape. The door was tricky- it always squealed halfway through opening. Even opening it as little as possible, it still whined, and Logan winced, quickly turning back towards the bed to see if either of his loves had awakened.

Remy remained on their side, motionless and facing away from him, but Virgil had moved, face scrunched up as he reached out for the warmth that had left when Logan did, but his eyes thankfully still closed. Logan waited in the doorway as he watched Virgil grope about, letting out a small breath of relief when he found Remy’s arm and tugged them closer. With luck, he’d assume that Remy was Logan and fall back asleep, paying no mind to the lack of a third body in their shared bed.

Feeling secure in a successful escape, Logan slipped fully out of the bedroom, padding down the hallway towards the kitchen. He wiped impatiently at the drying tear tracks on his cheeks, happy that, at the very least, his sobbing had sorted itself out.

All he had to do now was get a drink of water, wash his face, take a breath, and go back to bed, pretending like nothing happened. Because that was the truth of the matter- nothing had happened! Nothing at all! It had just been some stupid nightmare- hell, was it even bad enough to be called a nightmare? Logan really didn’t think so.

After all, it had been bland- just him, him in some void of a place, all alone. Which was fine, what did he care, the only thing that even mattered a little was the odd lingering feeling dream-him had, the feeling that earlier he hadn’t been alone, that earlier Virgil and Remy had been there, but they were gone by the time the dream started, gone because they didn’t want to be there, gone because they didn’t want to be with Logan, gone because they had left him because they didn’t want him couldn’t deal with him couldn’t be with someone they didn’t love-

Logan stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, hand coming up to his mouth again as another sob tried to bubble out- this time not to muffle himself (the kitchen was down the hall from the bedroom, he was plenty far, he hoped) so much as to stop the sobbing before it could start up again.

Because it was pointless, really, to be crying over some stupid dream that wasn’t even real, that he knew wasn’t real and therefore didn’t matter to him at all, that didn’t mean anything because it was just. a. dream.

His body, however, wasn’t getting the message, and his attempts to stop his sobs were failing. All he could manage was keeping them quiet, even as he leaned against the kitchen doorway and slid down it, hitting the floor not-so-gently as he continued to remind himself why this all was just stupid.

Stupid, pointless, not even real, just a dream, get over yourself, even if it was real you could deal with it, this is stupid, whiny, emotional, this is-

“Honey?”

Logan froze at the sound of his partner’s voice. Why were they awake? He had been so careful- and they needed their sleep, why would they have come after him-

Remy was already dropping down to crouch next to him. They looked odd like this- hair messy instead of carefully arranged, sunglasses no where in sight, wearing baggy shirt and shorts instead of their fitting jacket and jeans- but they also looked soft, so Logan didn’t mind. At least, they normally looked soft- right now, forehead creased, eyes worried, they looked unhappy, and Logan hated that.

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but a sob came out instead, and even though he slapped his hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out Remy had still heard it, their eyes only going wider in worry. They reached out, placing their hands on Logan’s shoulders. When he didn’t react, they started moving their hands over his arms, grounding, comforting, familiar.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, shh, you’re okay, I’m here, you’re safe, you’re okay, darling it’s alright, you’re alright.”

“Why are you awake?” Logan managed to ask, this time successfully stifling the sob that tried to slip out instead. There were still tears running down his face, yes, but it was dark- he could probably convince Remy it was just a trick of the light, convince them that Logan was fine, that they could go back to bed and Logan would be there soon enough, completely fine, as if nothing had happened (because, in Logan’s mind, nothing had).

“I woke up when you opened the door.” Remy answered, still running their hands over Logan’s arms soothingly. “Virgil did too. I thought you were just going to get water, but he said you looked upset.”

“I’m fine.”

Remy chuckled, but they sounded pained. “Babes, you’re crying on the kitchen floor at two am in the morning. This isn’t fine.”

“I’ll be fine.” Logan corrected. “You should- you can go back to bed, I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Then I can wait a moment so that we can go back to bed together.” Remy told him, one hand moving from Logan’s arm to cup his cheek, thumb wiping away some of his tears. “I know how you react to these things, love, and I’m not going to leave you alone to repress and ignore your problems away.”

“Go to bed, I’ll be fine.” Logan repeated, turning his head away from Remy and the hand cupping his cheek. He closed his eyes, as if pressing them shut would stop the flow of tears, would make Remy be sleeping again, would put everything back to a few minutes ago when everything- as far as his partners were aware- was fine, would make it so neither of them had to deal with him now, deal with him like this.

And that was the really ugly part of all this, the reason why he couldn’t just shake the thought, shake the stupid nightmare that wasn’t real- because it could be real, so easily, so easy that Logan was surprised it wasn’t real already, because his partners must have made some mistake when they picked him and every day that passed that they didn’t undo it was a miracle to him.

Because they were so- so feeling, Remy so lively and real and carefree, and Virgil may often be stuck in the throes of his anxiety but when he wasn’t he was so alive and bright and happy in his own way it was nearly infectious, and then there was Logan, Logan who had as many feelings as a worm and smushed them all down to the point they barely existed anyways, until all he was was stupid pointless outbursts and annoyance and waking up his partners who needed to sleep and not worry about him or his stupid fake unrealistic problems that came in the form of night time terrors and sobs he just couldn’t silence-

“-gan? Logan, I need you to breathe for me.”

Breathe? Why did he need to breathe? Wasn’t he already breathing? Why was Virgil (and when did Virgil get here?) asking him to breathe when he was already-

Oh.

He wasn’t breathing.

That was why.

He tried to do as Virgil asked, tried to take a breath in (since apparently at some point he had stopped), but it got stuck halfway up his throat, choking him instead. He bent over as he coughed, someone squeezing his hand reassuringly as he did so, Virgil still in front of him. Virgil took Logan’s free hand and pressed it against his chest.

“Breathe.” Virgil repeated, taking a deep breath as he spoke. Logan knew what he was doing- over-exaggerating his breaths so that Logan could follow them. Logan was more than grateful for the gesture.

It took a few minutes of Virgil coaching him through the breathing exercise and Remy- who Logan had finally identified as the one holding his hand- murmuring reassurances before Logan finally got his breathing under control. As soon as he did, Logan ducked his head, refusing to meet Virgil’s focused and earnest yet incredibly worried eyes any longer.

“Hey, Lo, can you look at me?”

Logan ignored Virgil’s polite ask. His boyfriend sighed before softly cupping Logan’s cheek. He didn’t force Logan to look up, however. “Can I see your pretty face, love?”

“Don’t want to.” Logan murmured, shaking his head minutely against Virgil’s palm.

“Alright.” Virgil responded easily, still cupping Logan’s cheek. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Logan said. “I’m fine.”

“You already tried that, hun.” Remy pointed out, words accusatory though his tone was only gentle. “And if I didn’t believe you before you had a panic attack, I’d definitely not believe you now.”

“I’ll be fine.” Logan said instead, well aware he was just repeating what he had told Remy earlier, hoping it would work this time. “I’ll be fine, just- you can just go back to bed, I’m sorry I woke you-”

“We’re not going back to bed until we know what’s wrong.” Virgil said, calmly but firmly. His hand remained against Logan’s cheek, thumb now rubbing a circle right beneath his eye. “And something’s pretty clearly wrong.”

“And whatever it is, you can tell us, sweetheart.” Remy added. “We won’t be angry, or upset, or anything. We just want to know what’s hurting you.”

“It’s stupid.” Logan told them bitterly.

Virgil clicked his tongue. “If it’s got you this worked up, it’s not stupid. And even if it were, I’d still want to hear it. We can’t help you til we know why you need help, starshine.”

Logan didn’t respond to that, allowing the conversation to be overtaken by silence. Remy and Virgil seemed to be alright with it, Virgil continuing to rub circles against Logan’s face and Remy continuing to ground him by squeezing his hand, neither of them showing any signs of stopping soon.

“…I had a dream.” Logan finally admitted after a good five minutes had passed, forced to accept that nothing he said would get his partners to simply give up on him (and a horribly illogical part of him spoke up too, saying this meant not escape but comfort, but Logan ignored that part). He cleared his throat. “A nightmare, actually.”

Both his partners made a noise of upset. “What was it about?” Virgil asked.

“Nothing, which is why it’s so stupid.” Logan lamented, angry at himself. “It was just me, sitting around doing nothing.”

“Is that all?” Virgil asked, gently prying, clearly unbelieving that there was nothing more to the nightmare.

“Yes!” Logan said, snapping, not at them but at the general idea of such a thing having brought him so low. “That was all- I was just there, minding my own business, alone, alone because-” Logan cut himself off, ignoring the lump that was starting to reform in his throat.

“Because what?” Remy pushed, quietly.

Logan swallowed. “Because-” He could say this, it wasn’t that hard, just the truth, “because you- you two had- you weren’t actually there I just knew that- that you had- you had left.”

Something that had just barely been fixed broke inside of Logan as he said that, and suddenly he was crying again, which really wasn’t making him feel any less stupid. Now, however, his partners were here, Virgil moving to hold Logan’s face with both his hands, gently wiping away the tears but not minding if he missed some; Remy’s grip moved from his hand to his waist, their arms wrapping around him and holding him comfortingly close.

“Shh, darling, handsome, honey-love, it’s okay, it’s alright.” Remy murmured, laying their forehead against the side of Logan’s head, a warm and real reminder that they were there. “No wonder you were upset, sweetness, I’d be upset too.”

“And it’s not stupid.” Virgil added, taking a moment to tuck Logan’s hair behind his ears so that Virgil could see his eyes. “Being left behind by people you care about is terrifying, Lo.”

“But it wasn’t real.” Logan protested, his voice raw and ugly from crying as he spoke. “It was just an illusion, a product of my mind, and you two are- you’re here, now, and not gone- yet- not gone and-”

“We’re not gone ever.” Virgil corrected. “You’re stuck with us forever.”

“I don’t know why…” Logan muttered, looking downwards, as if that would hide his comment.

“Because we love you, ya dork.” Remy said, voice light but sincere. “Because you’re cute and you make nerdy science jokes and have our favorite meals memorized even though you can’t cook and you’re the best at giving surprise cheek kisses and while it’s really stupid you’re always trying to be admirable and deal with your issues alone, which- like I said- is stupid, but sweet in theory.”

“Don’t want to bother you-”

“And you’re not.” Virgil cut him off, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re our very beloved boyfriend, Logan. If you’re hurting, we want to help you. You’re never bothering us, especially not over something like this.”

Logan didn’t speak for a moment, processing what his partners had told him. He almost wanted to come back with a lie, almost wanted to look at it and find that their words were false and empty, but he didn’t find that- it was late, they were all tired, and yet their voices were real and honest, in a way that couldn’t be faked ten minutes after awakening.

With a sigh, Logan leaned his head forward, Virgil immediately moving up so that Logan’s head hit his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“Don’t be.” Virgil told him, starting to run his fingers through Logan’s hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I was being illogical.”

“We all are sometimes, dearest.” Remy said soothingly.

Once more, silence fell upon the three of them, but it was more comfortable this time, Logan allowing himself to relax against both his partners as they held him. The nightmare was still playing in the background of his mind, but it didn’t hold as much sway over him now, the loneliness of the false memory nothing against the warmth of his reality.

“Should we relocate?” Virgil asked after a good five minutes had passed, still combing through Logan’s hair. Logan had started to lean more and more heavily against him, slowly but surely falling back into the embrace of sleep.

Logan nodded against Virgil’s shoulder, humming tiredly. Crying took too much effort.

Virgil just chuckled. “Babe, you wanna pick up our moonbeam?”

“Of course.” Remy said, quietly but happily. There was some shifting around Logan- part of which involved him removing his head from the crook of Virgil’s neck- before he was settled in Remy’s arms, his partner holding him close against their chest.

“No offense, babe, but you look worse than I do when I haven’t had my coffee.” Remy teased as they carried Logan back towards their room, Virgil following behind.

“Oh, don’t be mean to him.”

“I’m just saying!”

Logan hummed again and pushed himself closer to Remy. “Shhhh.”

“Aw, sleepy nerd.”

Virgil gently slapped their arm for that one, Remy chuckling soundlessly before leaning over and giving Virgil a kiss. “Love you too.”

Finally, they reached their bedroom once more, Virgil pulling Logan’s glasses off for him as Remy settled him down on the bed.

“And this time-” Remy  got on the bed as well, barely a second between them letting Logan go and them pulling him close against their chest once more, “you’re going to sleep until noon.”

“That’s too late.” Logan protested sleepily.

“And you’ve had a rough night.” Virgil said, climbing in behind Logan and wrapping his arms around both him and Remy. “You can have a little bit of sleeping in. As a treat.”

“That’s grammatically horrible.”

Virgil just laughed quietly and kissed the top of Logan’s head. “Go to sleep, nerd. Worry about my grammar in the morning.”

And, surrounded by the solid, real warmth of his partners who had no intentions of going anywhere, Logan did.