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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years ago

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“You have saved us,” says the dignitary warmly, signalling to the gathered attendants behind them, “and so for the Voltron Team, we have assembled a gift!” They move to the side, and four attendants come forward holding a truly giant box.

Shiro grimaces. “Oh, thank you, but there’s no need —”

“Hell yeah!” Lance says, rushing over to open the box before anyone can stop him. “Presents!”

Keith shares a look with Pidge, who shrugs. Presents are presents. Keith certainly wouldn’t mind a present.

“Double hell yeah!” Lance whoops in delight, voice muffled from where he’s dug so deep into the box that only half of him is visible. “It’s candy!”

The dignitary looks a little embarrassed. “It is perhaps a little childish, but we thought —”

They don’t have time to finish their sentence before the rest of the team cheers, rushing over to join Lance and dig through the box of goodies. Only Shiro hangs back, shaking his head in fond amusement and thanking the dignitary like a Real Adult™️.

(He’s 100% going to wait for them to fall asleep and then stash all the stuff he wants, Keith is sure of it. He’ll probably even sneak into their rooms to steal what they already have, because Shiro is a sugar fiend. He used to eat Keith’s halloween candy. Keith had to set a trap to keep it safe.)

“Do you think we could eat some now?” Lance whispers, grin lighting up his face.

Pidge shakes her head. “No, the atmosphere here isn’t breathable for us, remember? We’ll have to wait until we get back.”

There’s a millisecond of a pause after she speaks, and then Lance’s hand flies up to his visor.

“Dibs on first pick!”

Keith is quick to follow, calling second, and then Allura, and then Hunk and Pidge tie. They quickly play rock-paper-scissors to find out who has to be last while Shiro wraps up with the diplomacy stuff.

Hunk loses. He looks very grouchy about it. Keith tries not too look too smug about his place in line.

Allura is strong enough to lift the box back to the lions on her own once they’re finally finished, and argues that as a fee she should get extra candy if they can’t divide their prizes evenly. Since she has been trained in debating since she could talk, she wins that fight. It doesn’t take away from any of the excitement. None of them can wait to get back to the castle.

The second their lions touch down, they’re all racing down the hangars and to the kitchen, where they all sit in their seats at the table, vibrating in excitement, cheering when Allura finally dumps the box out onto the table. They each then take their turn picking whatever looks the most appetizing, from candies that look like gummies to boxes of treats that look more like pastries. They’re done so fast you would think they were a pack of piranhas devouring a manatee, or something. All of them rip into several of their treats immediately.

“Hey, this pastry thing kinda tastes like gingerbread cookies!”

“Oh my God, I think this is chocolate! Green chocolate. But chocolate!”

“This tastes almost like candied juniberry petals!”

Keith is particularly fond of a tube of jelly-like substance that’s so sour it kind of burns off his tastebuds. He’s also very fond of the face Shiro makes when he tries it. Interestingly enough, a lot of them are making strange faces — the thing about alien candies is that they have no idea what to expect, so they end up trading a lot of things that they picked that they hate but someone else seems to love, for some reason.

“Gross!” Lance exclaims, pouting at a pack of something that looks almost exactly like gummi bears. “Aw, man. Of course blue candy in space doesn’t taste like blue. Tastes like cough syrup. Yuck.”

Keith had nothing against cough syrup. “Let me try.”

Lance happily digs out all the blue gummis from the bag, handing them to Keith, who pops them in his mouth. He then glances over at Lance, raising an eyebrow.

“These do not taste like cough syrup, you dork.”

“They do so!”

“They do not.”

Lance scowls, but his brown eyes are bright with mischief.

“Well, then, what do they taste like?”

“I dunno. Not cough syrup.”

Lance rolls his eyes, lips quirked in a small smile. Keith can’t help but smile back. “Well, you can have all my blue stuff then, weirdo. I don’t particularly enjoy the taste of NyQuil.”

Keith shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

———

All of them do what they can to make their candies last. Pidge, to absolutely no one’s surprise, runs out first. Keith is decently certain that if you were to chemically test her blood it would be fifty percent sugar and fifty percent caffeine. Lance runs out next, though, probably because he’s dumping all his blue candies on Keith — every movie night, he crawls over whoever he’s sat next to in order to hand Keith the blue candies he comes across. Eventually he cuts out the middle man and just curls up next to Keith every night, handing him the candy directly. It’s nice, except Lance is always freezing, so he hogs the blankets. And sometimes he complains about being cold so much that Keith has to grab his hands and warm them up so he’s finally quiet, or shove his toes under his thighs. Eventually that turns into Lance curling up into Keith instead of just next to him, leaning into his side and shoving his icy fingers under Keith’s shirt, “so your freaky furnace tendencies at least have a purpose, oven boy.”

Keith is a little bit embarrassed to admit that he did not get the hint at all, even a little bit, and Hunk had to pull him aside to explain that Lance was running his hands under cold water before every movie night to have an excuse to put them on Keith. Lance was not, in fact, nearly as scared of horror movies as he pretended to be, either. Nor does he ever comment on the body heat or muscles of anyone else whose space he commandeers, even though Lance rarely ever keeps his hands to himself.

Look, Keith never claimed to be the most socially graceful person on the planet. Er, the universe. How the hell was he supposed to know that Lance liked him, too? Why couldn’t Lance just say something like a normal person?

(Keith is aware that he didn’t say anything either, thanks, but in his defense, he’s not the one who claims to be a casanova, so. That’s on Lance and Keith will die on that hill.)

It doesn’t take long after Pidge and Lance run out of candy for the complaining to finally begin. For a while Lance pouted at Keith until Keith gave in (no it never took long, yes Keith is embarrassed about it, shut up) and gave him some of his candy, but soon enough Keith ran out, too, and then Hunk and Allura, and then they were all sad and snackless. Instead of waiting for another planet to gift them a giant box of goodies, this time, they hit up a space mall (different from last time, since they were banned for life) and went into a candy-shopping frenzy. They used up all their funds picking up every piece of candy they saw off the shelves, and Keith barely convinced Lance to stay out of the fountain this time. (And he means barely. Lance is very good at getting his way, and he’s also become very good at manipulating Keith now that he knows that Keith is possibly a little bit down bad for him. But luckily he’s down bad for Keith, too, so Keith managed to use that to his advantage for once.)

New candy, same drill — Lance opens his bags and immediately starts digging around for the blue stuff, dumping it all into Keith’s lap. Keith happily throws a hard blue candy into his mouth, expecting the tart flavour that Lance hates so much that he makes Keith brush his teeth before kissing him so he won’t have to taste it.

Except this time, there’s no cough syrup (not) flavour — it’s sweet and mild, almost berry-like. Keith raises an eyebrow and eats another one, a gummi this time, but it’s got the same flavour. Huh. Maybe the weird blue flavour was specific to the planet that gifted them the candy originally.

Keith looks as slyly as he can over to Lance. Lance is totally oblivious, curled up under Keith’s arm, passing the blue candies Keith’s way without even looking at them.

Keith grins. Hell yeah. He’s about to score half of Lance’s candy for life. Boyfriend status be damned.

He keeps up the charade for years. No matter what planet they get their candy from, the blue candy never has the strange cough syrup flavour — it really was specific to that one planet. It varies a little from region to region, but mostly any blue candy is something vaguely fruity, often very sweet and mild. They’re delicious, and Keith knows Lance would like them just as much as any other candy he likes.

But, hey. A man is entitled to some secrets, Keith thinks. Besides, Lance makes a face almost every time he picks out a blue candy, handing it to Keith without even pausing to consider. How would he ever know?

———

One day, on a supply stop in a region they’ve never been to before, every single bag of candy available is blue.

Lance pouts. “This sector hates me.”

“I don’t think they’ve targeted you personally, babe,” Keith says, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“It feels like they are! How am I supposed to survive until the next supply run when all my candy tastes like cough syrup?”

“Well, I mean, you don’t have to eat the cough syrup candy.”

Lance scoffs. “What am I supposed to do? Not have any snacks for when I’m too lazy to go get real food?”

“That’s an option, yeah.”

“As if. I’m just going to suffer, I guess.”

As Lance huffily picks out a variety of blue candy, Keith starts to sweat. Oh, no. If Lance is going to force himself to eat what he thinks is going to be cough syrup candy, then he is going to find out the truth.

Keith is about to either have his ass kicked or be sleeping on the common room couch for the next six months. He’s not sure how Lance will ensure that Keith doesn’t just go and find a random bunk to sleep in, but he knows his boyfriend, and ‘Lance’ and ‘impossible’ don’t often exist in the same realm.

Keith is fucked.

“You know, Shiro has a secret stash,” Keith tries as Lance approaches the cashier. “You could probably get some non-blue candy from him.”

Lance flips a dismissive hand. “I definitely will, but who knows how long that will last? I’ll just have to live with it. Plus, maybe my tastebuds have evolved, or something, and I don’t hate them anymore.”

“Yeah,” Keith says weakly, mourning the sleep he is going to lose. “Maybe.”

———

Keith waits in tense anticipation until the next movie night, when they all settle in with their candy and put on some strange flick that they’re all going to talk over anyway. He writes his own obituary in his head as he watches Lance tear open the bag, reach in, and reluctantly pop a candy in his mouth. He chews for a moment, then freezes, looking slowly over to Keith.

“Dearest love of my life,” he says, and Keith knows he’s fucked. “This candy, ever so strangely, tastes of fruit and joy and not cough syrup flavoured misery.”

Keith clears his throat. “That’s — uh, that’s weird, babe. Maybe this region makes blue candy differently.”

Slowly and carefully, Lance sets the bag on a side table, then turns to Keith, smiling sweetly. He reaches over and lays a gentle hand on Keith’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over Keith’s cheekbone. He leans in closely.

“I am going to ask you a question, star of my skies, and please know that I know all seventeen of your tells, so I will know immediately if you lie.” He pauses for a moment, and Keith takes in the full power of Lance’s crazy-eyes.

He hears various people snickering in the background. It’s so wonderful to know how much the team cares about him, the rat bastards.

“Have you been eating my fucking blue candy for four years knowing damn well there’s nothing wrong with them?”

Briefly Keith considers faking a heart attack.

“Perhaps,” Keith says, because he’s already accepted his grave. Gig’s up. Past him is a dumbass, Lance knows all, etc, etc.

To his shock, instead of immediately dragging him to the training room to whoop his ass, or even verbally tearing him a new asshole, Lance’s chin begins to tremble. And then his eyes start to water.

“You — you really did that to me? You tricked me?”

Keith feels like a bucket of cold water was dumped on his head. “Wait, Lance —”

Lance pulls away a little, sniffing. “You could have asked, you know. I love you a lot. I would’ve shared with you.”

Keith is going to go back in time and whoop his own ass. Seriously. Or maybe get someone to whoop it for him, because he is a monster.

“Lance, baby, I’m sorry,” he says desperately, grabbing onto Lance’s hand. “That was mean, okay? I’m sorry. I’ll never do that again. You can have as much of my candy as you want for the rest of our lives. I swear. And all the candy I steal from Shiro, too.”

“Hey,” Shiro says, but Keith ignores him, eyes only on Lance.

He glances over at Keith hesitantly. “Really? For the rest of our lives? You promise?”

Keith holds a hand to his heart. “With the team as my witness.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Lance’s face clears, all traces of tears completely gone.

“Great!” he chirps, tucking himself back under Keith’s arm and turning back to the movie. “Serves you right.”

Keith blinks. Hey. Wait a second. “Did I just get manipulated?”

“Yes,” Lance says easily. He pats Keith’s knee reassuringly. “I’ve known about the blue candies the whole time, babe. You crack your knuckles when you think you’re being sneaky.”

Keith’s mouth opens, then closes again. The snickering he heard from the rest of the team turns into outright laughter.

“It’s okay, babe,” Lance says again, but this time his voice is teasing. “I’ll let you keep the blue ones.”

———

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midwestmade29 · 10 months ago

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Prequel Request 💻

To Anonymous: Your idea was so cute! I loved coming up with the little moments that were shared between Christian, Adam, and Adam’s little sister. The summer part was fun to write too 😉 I hope I did your request justice🤞🏻Thanks so much for sending it in 🖤

Word count: 2,405 Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Disclaimers: Broken bone, losing virginity, sexual intercourse. Read at your own discretion.

Original Anonymous Request: “Sis! I need a prequel to the last fic! Anyway we can get something with the little moments with Adam, the Reader, and Christian as they all grew up as well as moments with The Reader and Christian that summer that they were all over each other when she was home from college?”

You'll find my original story that inspired this request here 🙂

School had just let out for the summer and your mother took you, your older brother Adam, and his best friend Christian to get ice cream and celebrate. You practically salivated all over the counter while you watched each worker scoop out the delicious dairy onto cones and into bowls. “What the heck is that monstrosity? That looks disgusting!” Christian said to you with a scrunched-up face. His words didn’t faze you though, and you happily dug into your sweet treat covered in gummy bears, sprinkles, cookie pieces and chocolate syrup. With your mouth full, you asked Christian if he wanted a bite and his response was a fake gag.

That same summer was when the 3 of you were outside riding your bikes, showing off different tricks each of you could do. You tried to one up your big brother and his best friend by attempting a trick you’d never done before, but it backfired immediately when you overturned your bike forcing it to land on your wrist and break it in 2 places! Adam carried you all the way home to your mom and Christian took care of your bike. Your mom rushed you to the emergency room to get x-rays, sighing in relief when the doctor said surgery wasn’t needed. Your wrist hurt, that’s for sure, but you were more focused on what color cast you were going to get to pay much attention to it! When you got home late that night, Adam was already fast asleep, and you weren’t too far behind. You were about to plop down on your bed when you noticed a Lex Luger and a Sting wrestling figure resting up against your pillow with 2 notes taped to their chests:

Dear sis, Sorry about your wrist! I hope it heals super-fast! Hopefully good old Lex can help cheer you up some. Love ya, Adam P.S.-You’re going to look so tough with your new cast!

To Y/N, You better be more careful next time! I’m letting you borrow Sting, but I want him back the minute your wrist is healed. -Christian P.S.- I’m glad you’re okay. Can’t wait to sign your cast.

“Come on guys, don’t fight! You two are best friends! Now hug and make up, right now.” You demanded. You stood in the middle of Adam and Christian while they had their backs turned towards each other. They had been arguing over petty stuff for the last 45 minutes, and you were getting tired of hearing them go back and forth. Even though you were the youngest out of the 3 of you, you were wise beyond your years! You surprised them both with your next words, “Seriously, will the stuff you two are fighting about even matter tomorrow? Stop being dummies! You’re best friends, not enemies so act like it!” Christian stayed disgruntled with his arms crossed, refusing to be the first to say sorry, but Adam’s stance softened when he turned around and looked at you. “Wow, you opened your mouth and mom came out there for a second Y/N! But you’re right. This fight was stupid and I’m sorry Christian. Friends?” he asked while extending his hand to his best friend. Christian didn’t budge or shake Adam’s hand until you kicked him in the shin, forcing him out of the stupor he was in. Through gritted teeth he shook Adam’s hand and agreed, “Friends.”

Christian’s feelings towards you were strictly platonic when you were kids, or so you thought. The older the two of you got, the more his feelings for you started to change. It was odd when he started being nice to you, and definitely strange when you noticed he was talking to you more than he was Adam. You just chalked it up to him sucking up to you so you would help him with his homework! You still remember the disappointed look on his face when you told him that you would be gone for nearly 2 months because you were going to be a counselor at a summer camp. “Really? 6 weeks? That won’t leave you much summer break when you get back. Are you sure you have to go?” Christian murmured. “Of course, I have to go, silly! It’s a great opportunity for me. It’s not like I won’t be having fun while I’m there too! There’s plenty of activities to do and I get to mentor kids,” you said full of excitement. You thought Christian’s next question was bizarre, even for his weird ass. “Is it a girl’s only camp?” You didn’t even bother responding to such a ridiculous question! Instead, you rolled your eyes and made your way towards your front door, Christian following behind you like a lost puppy.

2 more years passed, you were certainly all grown up now! You were looking forward heading off to college in the fall, and the summer ahead was just prolonging your independence and your desire to explore new surroundings. One night, your mother had baked cookies and you sat at the kitchen counter devouring them. Laughter filled the air, and the conversation flowed! Out of nowhere, your mom brought up Christian, “You know that boy has it bad for you, Y/N! It’s so obvious!” The horrified look on your face made her laugh! “Christian?! As in Adam’s best friend, Christian? The one who has teased me my whole life and been a thorn in my side? There’s no way mom!” your words came out a little faster than you meant them to, and the more you spoke on the matter, you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince your mother- or yourself that Christian didn’t have feelings for you. Your mother’s words were soft as she explained herself farther, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Y/N. The boy is smitten! He asks me about you all the time, you know? The two of you are old enough now to explore any…feelings that might be there. Better to discuss things now before it’s too late and you’re off to college.” That same night while you were lying in your bed, sleep evaded you while you continuously went over the conversation you had earlier with your mother. Her words didn’t seem so silly the more you thought about them, and they helped you realize something that you had suppressed deep inside of you for several years, you had feelings for Christian.

“Why wasn’t I supposed to tell Adam we were meeting here, Y/N? What’s going on?” Christian asked you as he slid into the corner booth. Seeing Christian in this new light made you feel shy, even a little awkward. The conversation you had planned in your head wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought it would be! “Because if he knew the reason why I asked you to come, you’d probably end up with a broken nose and he’d lock me in my room until summer is over!” you teased. Christian looked over his shoulder, making sure the coast was clear before speaking frantically, “Okay, spill it Y/N! You’ve got me worried that my best friend might try and kill me for talking to his sister. What the heck is going on?!” That night you confessed your feelings for Christian, laying everything on the table at your local diner. You practically handed the boy your heart on a silver platter! When he didn’t respond right away, you felt yourself sink a little in the booth and your cheeks felt like they were bright red. When he finally spoke, all your worry and doubt washed away. “Was I that obvious?” he asked sheepishly. “I thought I hid my feelings pretty well. Man, your mom doesn’t miss anything does she? Anyway, I’m crazy about you Y/N! I have been for a long time. What do you say? Do you want to see where the summer takes us and really give a relationship a try?” You were beaming from his words, eagerly responding, “Yes, of course! I want nothing more, Christian.”

Your mom helped you and Christian stay off Adam’s mind and out of his sight as your relationship continued to blossom. She made you promise her that you would tell your brother soon about you and Christian dating, but you hadn’t found the right time to break the news to him yet. Even though it felt wrong sneaking around behind your brother’s back, you were enjoying spending all your time with his best friend and getting him all to yourself! You and Christian shared your first kiss in the warm summer rain when it started to down pour while the two of you were at a concert in a local park. The kiss was something you had dreamed about ever since you could remember, and it turned out to be incredibly sweet and romantic. Most of the summer days were spent poolside to escape the heat. Christian definitely approved of your skimpy bikini while your older brother did not. Your favorite activity was one the two of you did almost every night as long as Adam was asleep or had other plans separate from yours. Christian always brought the blanket and made quick work of spreading it out on the ground so both of you could lay on it and look at the stars. You two shared several meaningful conversations, often talking about your childhood but also looking ahead and making plans for the future.

One night, things were heating up between you and Christian as you made out underneath the blanket of stars. This spot near the pond just behind your house had become your favorite place, almost a sanctuary of peace and serenity for you and Christian. But the more his hands roamed freely on your body, leaving you a panting mess whenever he would break a kiss to come up for air, it turned into a place full of passion and desire. Christian knew you were a virgin and he never made you feel embarrassed of it or ashamed, and never forcing you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. You had talked about taking that next step in your relationship in recent conversations, but you were hesitant. You knew it wouldn’t be Christian’s first time, him giving up that part of him a long time ago, but you still wanted it to be special for him too. “What if I’m no good at it?” you asked while your hands covered your face. Christian slowly removed them so he could look into your eyes, his words full of sincerity as he reassured you, “Giving yourself to me in that way is a gift and it’s something I don’t take lightly. No matter when- or if it happens- I know it will be beautiful. I will do my best to make sure it’s special for the both of us.”

A week later, you made your final decision about having sex with Christian or not. When you told him you were ready, he nearly took you right then and there on your front porch! The very next night, Christian took you by the hand and led you to your favorite spot. You couldn’t believe your eyes when he parted the final tree branches, revealing a strand of lights that were strung from the tree over to the old swing. A lantern illuminated the familiar blanket on the ground that was now adorned with a few small pillows and a second blanket. The only noise that could be heard were the rustling leaves on the trees in the soft summer breeze and the sound of nature carrying on quietly all around you. Once you were comfortable on the blanket, Christian checked in with you one final time before proceeding any further, “Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N? It’s completely fine if you’ve changed your mind. I’d be more than happy to lay here with you and look at the stars.” You gave him the green light to continue, and he took his time removing your clothes. He kissed every inch of newly exposed skin as he went along, making sure to savor every part of you. You watched as he opened the condom with his teeth before sliding it down his hard length and positioning himself in between your legs. He warned you gently that it was going to hurt at first, but after a while the discomfort would go away.

You held your breath as he inched himself inside of you, gasping when his full length was all the way in. “A-are you okay, Y/N? If it’s too much, p-please tell me and I’ll stop,” Christian said breathlessly as his slowed his movements. “No, please don’t stop. K-keep going!” you reassured him. With each thrust of his hips, the discomfort started to dissipate and was replaced with pleasure as Christian’s tip hit all the right spots. Your fingers dug into his back as waves of pure bliss crashed over your body, your tight walls squeezing around Christian and milking him of everything he had to give you. His name fell from your lips when you came, your juices coating the condom allowing Christian to slide in and out with ease. With a few final grunts, Christian found his release too, his body still pinning you against the blanket as he tried to steady his breathing. He planted tender kisses on your lips between each breath and you couldn’t help but smile. “How are you doing sweetheart? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” his words were a mere whisper as he looked into your eyes, studying your face for any kind of sign that you were okay. You couldn’t help but to burst out into a fit of giggles when you asked Christian, “That. Was. Incredible! When can we do it again?”

That wasn’t the last time the two of you had sex that summer. Your appetite for Christian was insatiable, and he was more than willing to try and cure your hunger. If you could’ve stayed in the bubble you and Christian had created around yourselves, you certainly would have. Unfortunately, September was rapidly approaching, bringing you closer to the difficult decision that you knew each of you had to make. Little did you know at the time just how much the end of summer decision was going to alter the course of your relationship afterwards.

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petalsgluedtophone · 4 months ago

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Rose Redbandit

Organization: Port Mafia

Ability: Crystal Clear

Makes all evidence of her crimes trail and point to someone else, putting the blame on them instead of her.

Age: 26

Height: 5'4

Birthday: October 24th

Likes: Vanilla cake, knives, red and black clothes, gummy bears, corn flakes

Dislikes: White, revenge, sodium

Divider made by @themouthofsaturne <- Credit goes to them

RULES

-> No NSFW asks

-> In character I use "quotation marks"

-> Out of character I don't use quotation marks or I use ooc:

-> This is a BSD oc account

-> Same owner as @paintedgrilledcheese

#bsd #bsd oc #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #Rose

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exouniverse · 10 months ago

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Three Little Words

Pairing: taehyung x gn reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Warnings: canon context and time with Tae being enlisted, but no signs of major angst otherwise

Summary: A happy birthday for Tae only required three simple words and your presence, whether you were physically together or apart.

Word count: 1.3K+

A/N: This one turned out small, but I couldn’t let myself continue or I would ruin it lol I found myself surrendering too much to the angst at some point and I really am trying not to for this project. I know it’s not on the specific date again, but bear with me, I’ll get them right at some point hahaha. Happy (late) birthday, Tae!

Also, I made the dividers, so please credit if you use them 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

“Happy birthday Taetae!”

Just hearing your voice through the phone after the first month apart made him feel like the happiest person in the world. It was all bittersweet, but he was okay with how things were working between the two of you. “Thank you Y/N! Ah… I miss you so much!”

“I miss you too!”

He sighed cheerfully. “How is your trip so far? I wanna hear everything.”

You noticed the eager tone in his voice, so you giggled. “You have nothing to share? It’s your special day.”

“I wanna hear your voice more than anything. Not having you around has been tough… I’ve been thinking so much about where we were a year ago.”

“A year ago?” you asked and reminisced. “Everything changed just a year ago.”

Lately, being alone together has somehow become an oddly tense situation. For you, it felt as though any step closer would cause the butterflies in your stomach to flutter away. It was exciting and, at the same time, frightening. You wondered if, after all this time knowing him, the affection you felt surpassed mere friendship and ventured into a realm of deeper connection. As for Taehyung, he found himself needing to fixate his gaze on any random object around him; otherwise, the magnetic pull towards your eyes would win, and he would spend a lifetime studying the light that danced within them.

“Do you want to listen to the demo Yoongi was working on?” You asked to break the silence.

Taehyung glanced at you with a smile and nodded his head enthusiastically, offering some strawberry gummies for you two to share. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind yet until you placed the left earphone in his ear and moved closer, accompanied by a sweet giggle. His gaze quickly shifted back to the mixing console, but the captivating music drew his attention back to you. He didn’t anticipate that you would be staring back at him, but you were almost hypnotized.

You blinked twice and giggled again. “Wha-what do you think?”

“I love it!”

The silence was not uncomfortable; both of you were just enjoying the music and editing the photo sequences of the music video you were working on.

The chaos was within both of your hearts, which could have served as background percussion to the instrumental piano music the two of you were listening to on your phone. The chaos also came with Hoseok’s call, which interrupted the music. Taehyung was too concentrated to even notice, so he kept helping you organize the video footage on the other computer. Meanwhile, you answered the call, oblivious to what your friend might have in mind to call you at this time.

“Y/N!” His voice rang through yours and Taehyung’s ears. Taehyung was still too concentrated to notice he was still listening in with your earphone, and you seemed to have forgotten as well—too concentrated on the gummies and the photo frames.

“How’s the video going?” Hoseok asked, actually uninterested in that piece of information, so you didn’t have time to answer. “Has anything happened?” he continued, his tone meddling, but you didn’t think much of it. “Tell me my plan worked and you ended up working with Taehyungie all by yourself and now the sparks are flying—“

You turned the Bluetooth off right away, but the audio only switched to the speakers on your phone. Taehyung did hear what Hoseok said from the moment he heard his name, so he was now looking at you with a sweet smile on his face.

“—your moment to tell him you like him.”

You hurried to end the call, even knowing that there was no way to erase Hoseok’s words or prevent Taehyung from hearing them. However, before you could disconnect, Taehyung gently stopped your actions by placing his hand lightly over yours.

“Y/N will call you back, Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung said out loud, leaving Hoseok speechless until he ended the call himself.

The silence was uncomfortable for you, but Taehyung was the calmest he has been since you arrived at the studio and found out you were going to work on your video without Hoseok’s help. He knows Hoseok can be playful and joke around with you, but he is sure about him never lying or exposing someone’s feelings just to play mind games.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t!” Taehyung held your hand just a little bit tighter. “I like you.”

Your heart steadied.

“I like you,” Taehyung repeated, but more to himself in case he had only said it in his mind.

“I… I like you too,” you giggled less nervously than you had done before.

Taehyung smiled fondly at the memory. “I'll never forget how nervous I was that day. I thought my heart might burst!”

His laughter faded as tender affection welled in his gaze. “Yet your smile, your sweet spirit—they gave me courage, and that moment was the best birthday present. Ahh… Hoseok hyung’s meddling ways were on the dot.”

You giggled at his unique expression, making you miss him even more. A comfortable silence fell as he reminisced. It had been the beginning of everything. Now, a year later, distance kept you physically apart, but your bond remained strong as ever.

“I really miss you so much, Y/N. But hearing your voice, remembering that day... it makes this all feel okay somehow. As long as we have each other, I can bear anything.” He sighed contentedly.

“You’ve always had me, even just as friends, and you’ll always have me; you can be sure of that. I’m here to stay.” You heard his breath getting caught through the phone, so you hurried to keep the mood light. “Wanna know what happened to someone on the staff?”

His laugh was soothing as you told him about the monkey stealing the microphone and the staff member’s snack and how you ran around trying to get it all back. Nevertheless, time seemed to fly by as you shared your anecdotes about your trip.

“It’s getting late for you, isn’t it? We only have about ten minutes more, but you also must be tired,” he said with a soft sigh. As much as he dreaded ending your call, your well-being always came first for him.

You smiled as you played with the necklace he gave you a couple of months ago, a token for you to keep him close while he was away on duty. “I wanted to wait until the end. I planned today and tomorrow’s activities so I could talk to you.”

“I don’t want to keep you, jagiya, though I may be selfish and wish to hear your voice all day long.” A gentle giggle escaped him. “I suppose I’ll just have to settle for dreaming of you instead.”

You laughed with him. “Tae! But did you already call your family? Don’t spend this time only talking to me!” You deviated bashfully.

“I did; I just saved most of my time for you… you’re farther away. But promise me you’ll rest well tonight, for my sake, if not your own. Your health and happiness must come before all else, even talking to a lovesick fool like me.”

“Another lovesick fool on the other side of the world wants to keep talking. I promise I’ll rest well.”

Taehyung agreed to your request. He was more than happy to share some more minutes with you over the phone. Your promise remained, with only cheerful moments while you two were apart. Soon enough, you will be able to see him when you come back, and visits are available.

When the moment to say goodbye finally came, you were almost asleep. “See you soon, Taetae! Be safe and have a happy day.”

“Rest well, Y/N! I love you.” His send-off only managed to wake you up. You were unable to contain the laughter bubbling within you; it couldn’t have been more true to character of him to say those words so casually and all at the same time figure it out in a nervous attack that ended up the call.

Only a minute later, you saw the incoming call from him and immediately answered. “I love you too!”

#happy birthday taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts #bts fanfction #bts v #birthday fic #exouniverse

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vamqyr3 · 2 years ago

Note

Hiya I hope you are well and I hope you enjoyed your new year. Feel free to ignore this if you aren’t taking requests but could you write something where freak gaz and freak ghost use a fem reader like a toy, free for use type of thing. The way you depict those two makes my brain rot 🖤

Thank you :)

↳ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY, KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK // BABYDOLL. ♪

CW// FREE USE, NO PLOT, CHOKING, RESTRAINED, SPIT, DRY HUMPING, ECT.

NOTES// dw. Daddies home. Yeah that’s right I’m back with a little something, by little I mean this is a very fast read. (my requests are always open btw, also probs one of the nicest things anon has ever said to me xx)

Pinky angry rings lined your throat, bubbling up around the remnants of his hand prints. Your chin jutted up at odd angles, lips bloated in agony. You sat in Gaz’s lap, thighs propped up under his knee. Not even your hands knew movement, he kept you in a bear hug of a hold, thick meaty biceps to keep your breaths short. With every twitch he would clamp down at your neck, squeeze you over and warn you still like prey. You lay blooming, wholly exposed to the Englishman opposite of you. Ghost wedged a divide in your fatty legs, left you cold and wet down the seams of Gaz’s blue jeans. His hot breath was loud in your ear, a chunky hand to push you even wider.

Ghost backed into you, humping into your crotch and sending you connecting with the seat of Gaz. They were lost in pleasure, pressing hard into your pillowed skin and constricting you still. Sweet glaze mixed with his bottom half, and with every nudge he’s sending you back deliciously into the dent in Gaz’s lap.

He empties his lungs, air ringing around a smile, sliding a finger between your fatty lips. There’s heat between the friction of their bodies, hints of honey hot syrup and decadent nudges. Simon raises his fingers, catching your mouth and haphazardly scraping your tongue. You cough up slobber, slicking down the rim of your mouth and stretching your sore throat. Your gums shivered between his thumb and index, his palm now choking your cheek and squeezing your lips wide. He spat.

“Swallow,”

You did, twitching as he smiled at it. Ribboned wetness stuck tactually to your hot gums as your cracked open another wide jaw. Laying flat an agitated tongue to prove validity, you had swallowed. Whatever slick had painted the bottoms of your lips he licked at, cooling steamy skin and cleaning house. His breath is heavy, fingers back to your bulging cunt to lamely swipe. It shocks your body, hips sending a jiggle to your shoulders. Ghost smacks at your tangy nub, angry commanding you still. Gaz is leaving healthy stains in your skin, licking down the sides of your jaw and pushing up into you. You watch as Ghost spoons cold slick over his cock, lazily slipping dribbles down to the sides of his feet.

He slaps at you again, a clicking noise following the connect of his cock head to your crotch. You know better than to react, lay flat and mimic that of an object. He’s mesmerized by the sparkle of it, lucid between meaty smacks and juicy skin.

Ghost adjusts to a sloppy rhythm, sloshing about your innards and scraping up the good bits. You could only assume what heaven Gaz was in, now steadily adjusting to nip at your chest. It rolls in his red palm, the thick of his bicep supporting what puffs over and spills out. He still won’t let you move, toys shouldn’t move. You writhe between his heavy touches. Gaz is greedy, a horny lost man feeling at your tiny body and twisting you for fun. The disgusting noises stop, Gaz shifts in odd discomfort. Ghost seems to be confused by it, angrily snapping your joints up to bend at your knees. His torso squeezes over yours, choking you down and refusing resilience.

there’s a tipping point slowly bubbling over, Ghost is lost babbling and bullying your curved gummy walls. It’s red hot, way too much, Gaz is humping into you, going dumb and pushing you deep back into Ghost. His gritty fingertips squeeze the ends of your sore nipple, churning it in his hand, moving with the sway of Ghosts hipbone.

They switch, Ghost finds leverage in the things behind your head, Gaz rings your plush thighs and play with his catch. He thinks in fractures, lost in throws of white hot and loaded fuzzed up noise. He can now pull your knees farther back ignore your agitated cracks, jut into you higher. His touch no longer holds the same weight as before. He chases his own high, uses whatever curve of you he needs, renders you useless aside from sex and heat. You wonder, would they swap? Would Gaz fuck the rest of Ghost back into you? Stare at him bubble out of you? Let it glaze his knuckles and smear it over you? Grossly miss your lips pushing it back into your quivering mouth?

He’s too much, too much to big, to fast, to hot. It’s hurts so good, he’s hard and thick. You can hear your pulse shoot from eat to ear, he’s fucks like he’s out for blood. You worry he’s fucked you to an orgasm, you worry he wouldn’t stop. It catches in your teeth, biting down and holding your breath still to cut whines. He finds it funny, glistening teeth crook a mean smile and he’s stuffing his face to your cracked lip, biting down soon after. They won’t stop, not till they’re both good and spent.

The only thing you see is white, it’s sensitive, vibrating from your ankles to your eyelids. The way he fucks, you know there’s salty brine darkening wet spots in Gaz. He’s chasing some glorious purpose, purring into your scalp to the opposite of Ghost. You’ll be good and done when it’s all over, sore and achy for more no less.

“Squeeze,”

He punctuates it with an angry hit to your skin, it ripples between his nails and he twists it between them. And you do, sucking him back Into you with a healthy, greedy, grip. Gaz could cum in his pants just from this, needy and slobbering, he just might. They tag team you. They send your body in opposing odd angles and mash into you with an unwavering brow. Gaz was the first to go, surely ruining his good work jeans and crushing it all into you. He’s oh so numb, he’s shaky and sweaty to the touch. Baked plum under the sex and heat of Ghosts ever apparent rut. Ghost must have followed soon after, spent a load down your stomach and left creamy tangy strings down your thighs. He goes hiccuping grunts as he does it. Sees streaky light in his eye sockets and pulls you ever closer, chasing impossible heights inside of you. Gaz plays with your sides, clicking your legs together and watching it fall in strands down over your full abdomen.

And you were right, you were good and spent.

#pervert!gaz #pervert!writing #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz modern warfare #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x ghost

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kodaswrld · 2 months ago

Note

can you make a version of tje dni banner here thag says "account" instead of "blog"?

https://www.tumblr.com/kodaswrld/761652496273997824/1-gummyworm-dividers-3-2-gummy-candy-themed?source=share

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totallynots8tan · 2 years ago

Text

Heroes of Olympus & related characters as things my loved ones have said

Leo: I am organized. Just in a very chaotic way.

Hazel: In a divided country be the glue

Nico: Kay, I’m going to go summon the dead

Will: ok, have fun

Magnus: Oh no! My finger fell off!”

Boob pocket

-Piper

Piper: Hazel, you can campaign for your uterus!”

Leo: Do I need to?

Nico: No

Leo: I know I don’t need to but should I?

Nico: No

Leo: I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve exercised bad judgement before

Nico: I have a dagger and I will stab you.

Percy: Haven’t you ever noticed that gummy bears like to cook burritos?

Nico: It’s better to be miserable and be right then to just be miserable

Hazel (when she lived in New Orleans): It’s a lot easier to wake up when you’re promised beignets

Leo, when Piper tried to explain what a period is: So your butt doesn’t bleed?

Piper to Annabeth: Ok, I’ll be *fruity* and you be fabulous

Frank, while playing musical chairs: Why is your seat so warm?

Leo: why is Jason’s seat so cold?!

Connor Stoll: *collapses on the floor dramatically*

Travis (referring to his ass): It’s one of my best features

Katie Gardner: well it’s better than your face

Piper to Frank: I may or may not have just flashed your street.

Leo, with zero prompting: People should make edible staples

Badass in a frilly dress

-Annabeth

Annabeth or Malcom: I used a lot of self restraint , and this is what I got ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖⁱˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ three ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵗᵃˡˡ

Leo to Percy: Tell me about your bromance, dude (referring to Grover, Percy’s best friend)

Nyssa: A turkey on the side of the road just vibing (this one is hard to explain)

Kronos: I want to eat my babies

Frank: the crocodile came out of nowhere

Percy: He’s going to nap vertical. He’s a horse.

Nico: They’re soul sucking. And not in a fun way.

Hazel: We should eat salad with chopsticks (I stand by this statement btw)

Lou Ellen, referring to cats: I love ugly things

Cecil: oh, I didn’t know you were into me

Connor: Like dramatic gay bitches do

Drew, laying on Piper’s shoulder: you know, if this was (insert name of her current girlfriend), I would be laying on her boob.

“We need to make something where I never eat ice cream at night wearing a clean shirt.” — Nico (before Bianca died), age 9, after dropping chocolate ice cream on YET ANOTHER white collared shirt (am I projecting? Yes. My brother can’t keep a shirt clean for FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES)

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just-an-enby-lemon · 1 year ago

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Uuuh character thingy except I tried to put it into different categories

• I know u know this character

> Edward Nygma

> Carlos(from wtnv) idk his name

> Jonathan Crane

> Dirk Gently

• Blorbos from my show that I hope u don't know nothing about so u come with funny headcannons

> House (House MD)

> Jonathan Sims (TMA)

• Idfk what I'm writing anymore

> Cebolinha (yes from turma da mônica)

:3<

Okay let's go.

> Edward Nygma: He collects strategy boardgames. While it was Doctor Leland and later Oswald that tried to make an Arkham boardgame night he is both the one sugesting the games and (in Oswald's case cause there was not much he could do in Arkham) provinding it. He is also an insuferable player.

> Carlos: He learned embroidery from his granny and was really good at it. He mostly uses this talent to make beutifull paterns in his lab coats sleeves as a way to different his morning lab coat from his night lab coat from his fancy lab coat from his date labcoat from his sleep labcoat from his seductive labcoat (that has changed from seductive labcoat to the labcoat that seduces Cecil in specific) from his serius science labcoat to his just assisting the other guys in the lab today labcoat to his Esteban's PTA meetings labcoat from his secret labcoat and so goes on (he cannonically has a bunch of labcoats for different occasions and I love it for him). He does cute patches for Cecil and Esteban (he also did one for Aubregine, he never did for Khoshekh because like a proper cat he hated cute clothes) more rarely for his friends and since they adopted Steban he is learning to knit to make him a cute baby onesie of the uncomprehensive horrors.

> Jonathan Crane: When Jonathan worked on Gotham University he was a firm supporter of inclusion programs. He would never shame a student that was dedicated but simply didn't had the same tools as the others (be because they came from a school from a poor area with low govermental investiment or because they were neurodivergent or had to work all day and had no time to study or was facing personal problems stopping them from succed like an abusive househood or relationship or bullying or simply systemic discrimination) and would do all he could to help them. On the other hand priviledged students specially bullys always suffered in his classes and a lot of them became his text subjects.

> Dirk Gently: [blorbo it's been sooo long!!!] He is ace. I won't explain he just is. He also is nb and uses all pronouns. Todd knows neither of this things and tbh closested Todd likely doesn't even know what an nb person is until he Dirk and Farrah (and Amanda and Rowdy 3 and Bart and Mona) went to a protest against the rise of transphobic laws in the UK.

Now since the hc ended up being more about Todd I'll also say that Dirk loves sweets and eats the head of people/animal shaped things first so they die and won't be in pain. He also unfortunally eats the cookie first and preffers it from the white part when eating orios. Farrah rarely buys oreos because of that and when they have oreos she and Tood refuse to look at Dirk eating it. Also yeah I'm a firm defender of they lvie together at Todds house after they created their agency. I'm firmly divided between Dirk/Tood and Farrah/Tina or Dirk/Todd/Farrah as my ships for the show (besides Amanda/Rowdy3, best polycule).

• Blorbos

> House: He secretly loves gummy bears but he will never let people know because they might think he is soft and he is not. The only times HD eats gummys in front of the other doctors he slowly eats the members before the head so they will assume he has no feelings and let him be. And yes last time I saw this show was almost ten years ago this was a very blind hc.

> Jonathan Sims: Okay, this is a real blind hc because I want to listen to Magnus Archives (though I'm afraid I'll cry a lot) and won't risk spoilers. So this is a very simple one: he loves Animal Crossing and has the best island (but Nico every island is beutifull and what matters is the love the player has, nope, the best one is Jomathan, it has the horrors). Also my first instinct was to say he made all the other characthers in the Sims but that was a low pun.

• O Rei da "Lua"

> Cebolinha: He scams gringos to practice his infalible plan making talent. This six year old boy might never have succeeded in stealing a bunny plushie from the six year old girl with super strengh but he comited identity fraud and stoled a bunch of money. He is six so he has no idea how to convert or use the money but he has it. (Eu deixe em inglês pq eu acho mais engraçado do ponto de vista de alguém que não conhece o cebolinha).

#ask game #i'm super late but here it is #headcannon #hc #edward nygma #carlos the scientist #jonathan crane #riddler #Scarecrow #dirk gently #gregory house #jonathan sims #cebolinha #cebolinha was my favorite to make #eddie got a shorts one because i make riddler hcs all the time

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instantsandwichkingdom · 7 months ago

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How many severed limbs do you suspect are within one mile of you?

When you are caught eating something clearly not food, what is your go to excuse?

Favorite baked good to force upon others?

What is the weight of your thoughts divided by your height in half-centimeters, added to the number of chairs that were thrown by and at you in the past month?

What is the greatest number of insects that has ever been in your room at any one time?

Have you ever felt the urge or been tempted to eat a rock (other than salt or ice)?

Second favorite song artist?

What do you predict is the next object you will throw at someone?

It’s a zombie apocalypse, and you have three options for a getaway vehicle: a unicorn, a slightly faster horse, or a significantly faster motorcycle

Arson?

I have no clue???

I don't eat😜😜

The peanut butter rice krispies with chocolate on top(I can't spell it)

Uhm...math..hard...crisis

Prob like 5 but Im terrified of bugs

YES

Conan gray

Prob like a gummi bear

Does the unicorn have magic? And does the motorcycle run out of gas?

Yes. And?

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spencereliotwinchester · 2 years ago

Text

Under the Mistletoe

Title: Under the Mistletoe

Word Count: ~8.4k

Summary: Moving on is difficult and sometimes includes uprooting to a new state thousands of miles away. Just before Christmas.

This fic takes place currently, 2022, but ages have been slightly adjusted.

Jensen is 45, Christian is 45, Jared is 38

Rating: Teen, 13+

Tags: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins (past), Christian Kane, Padalecki Family, Genvieve Cortese, Timothy Hutton, meet-cute, floof/fluff, schmoop, slight angst, loss, rom-com, Christmas, Alternate Universe

A/N: Merry Christmas @cleighwrites! This was written for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa, please enjoy. Also I don’t know how it got to be this long, but, I’m proud of it!

Thank you to my beta @mariekoukie6661

Divider by @rauko-creates

Banner art by yours truly

Main Character(s): Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki

Tags:

@hoboal87 @writethelifeyouwant @mrswhozeewhatsis @negans-lucille-tblr @synmorite @rauko-is-a-free-elf

“Jensen, what the hell, man?” Christian sighed loudly from the kitchen.

“What?” Jensen grunted, shoving a large cardboard box into a corner; there were only twenty or so more boxes to bring in.

“Wanna tell me why, after we’ve moved two-thousand miles from home, there’s still a fucking check for thirty thousand dollars stuck to our fridge via gummy bear magnet? I thought you deposited it!” Christian had moved into the doorway and was waving his hands around with annoyance.

“Yeah, it’s on my list of shit to do,” Jensen groused, turning away and trudging out into the snow to get another box from the moving van.

Christian was his very best friend; they’d been best friends since second grade, roommates in college, then just never really separated after that, but sometimes Christian just didn’t know when to let something go and Jensen was irritated. He shoved some boxes to the back door of the van to make them easier to grab; Jensen rolled his eyes as Christian’s form came into view.

“Dude, please, we moved here to ‘get away from everything’ as you said. ‘Start over.’ Remember what the therapist guy said? You need to make that deposit so you can fully heal. The. Check. We’re going to the bank tomorrow and you’re gonna deposit it,” Christian begged.

“Can you just drop it?! We’re supposed to be unpacking!” Jensen snapped. He took a deep breath. “Please, Chris, drop it. Let’s unpack the truck that way I’m not doing everything by myself when you go home for Christmas.”

Christian gave him a pitying look, blue eyes filled with sadness, but he said nothing, just grabbed two boxes and walked out of sight. Jensen shoved a few more boxes to the door, feeling heavy and hollow at the same time. As Jensen went to jump down from the van, he slipped on the melted snow from his boots and tumbled out into the snow. He swore up a storm as he tried to stand, only to slip and fall again.

“Jeez! You okay? Let me help you up.”

Jensen grabbed the offered hand and stood up, looking to see who had helped him. The voice clearly wasn’t Christian’s; he was also surprised that he had to look up to see the guy’s face. The man had about four inches on him and Jensen had to admit that he was really attractive. He had shaggy hair tucked behind his ears and a warm, dimpled smile surrounded by some light scruff.

“Thanks,” Jensen smiled. “I’m Jensen. Jensen Collins.”

“Jared Padalecki. Uh, here,” he held out a saran covered plate to Jensen, who looked at him questioningly. “Oh, my Ma made a welcome plate for you guys when she saw the moving van. Had me bring it over. Your beard is completely covered in snow by the way.”

“Thanks again!” Jensen laughed. “Want to come in? I need a break and something to drink... And dry off my beard, apparently.”

“Sure!” Jared said brightly, then he placed the plate on top of one of the boxes and picked it up. Jensen started to protest, but Jared was already halfway up the path. Jensen grabbed another box and followed to the two-story cottage he and Christian had bought.

The cottage was made of stone and was on the larger side, so Jensen and Christian could each have a bedroom and office; there were two spare bedrooms in case friends or family came to visit, too. The boxwood bushes that lined the front of the house were snow covered and the fire that Christian had started when they arrived was glowing through the bay window.

“Chris!” He yelled, setting the box next to Jared’s in the living room. Jensen beckoned Jared toward the kitchen; Jared settled himself at the island while Jensen started digging through boxes for cups. He yelled again, “Chris!”

“What in the hell’re you hollerin’ about?” Christian asked exasperatedly when he stepped into the kitchen a minute later; he was tying a bandana into a headband to keep his hair out of his face. He looked from Jared to Jensen, an eyebrow quirked up.

“Jared, this is Christian; Chris, Jared. His Ma made us some snacks and I want a drink. Where are the damn coffee cups?” Jensen asked, leaning against the counter and throwing his hands up in defeat. He took a hand towel and scrubbed it through his bushy facial hair.

Christian grabbed a folder from the counter and flipped through some pages. Jensen started unwrapping the plate Jared had set on the island. There were cookies, peanut clusters, chocolate covered pretzels, some kind of dried meat, and crackers. When he looked over his shoulder, Christian had started digging through one of the boxes.

“That’s venison jerky,” Jared supplied, reaching forward and snatching a piece.

Christian set three coffee mugs next to Jensen and grabbed a piece of venison with a cracker.

“You know, you can look through the list of boxes, too. It’s why I made that,” Christian complained as he chewed. “A whole list of what’s inside each box with pictures and box numbers. Whatcha plannin’ on putting in these cups?”

“Chris, where’s the coffee pot?” Jensen asked innocently. Jared snorted.

“You are so damn useless.” Christian snarked, going back to the folder and boxes.

“So, uh, where’d you move from?” Jared asked curiously, looking at Jensen. Jensen was taken aback by how expressive his eyes were.

“Denver. We’re from Texas originally though. Went to Denver for college and then just settled in a bit,” Jensen answered evenly, hoping Jared wasn’t going to ask why they’d moved.

“What made you decide to pick up and come out to Mass? That’s a huge change.” No luck.

“I got a nice job offer out here,” Christian interjected; Jensen breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really? What d’you do?”

“I’m in linguistics and translation,” Christian answered proudly, setting the coffee pot up to brew.

“Not by chance at McCarthy International?” Jared asked excitedly, leaning forward.

“How’d you know that?” Jensen and Christian asked at the same time.

“I work there, too. My manager said they finally hired another translator named Christian. Shot in the dark,” Jared laughed. “Small world! We’ll be coworkers!”

“Sounds great, man,” Christian grabbed the coffee mugs and turned to the coffee pot. “What languages do you speak?”

“Mostly French and Italian. You?”

“German and Russian.”

“Great, we’re desperate for a German translator. What about you, Jensen? What do you do?” Jared turned his attention to Jensen, smiling warmly. Jensen could see flecks of honey golden in his eyes.

“I’m a book editor for Ackles-Collins Publishing, so I can pretty much work from anywhere.”

Jared tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. Jensen could see the question swirling through Jared’s brain.

“Jenny’s been followin’ me around since second grade,” Christian ribbed Jensen as he set down steaming coffee mugs. “We have sugar, no milk though.”

“Sugar would be great, thank you!” Jared said, pulling one of the coffee mugs toward himself.

“Lies, man, lies. Don’t believe anything Chris says, ever!” Jensen told Jared jokingly, pulling one of the mugs to him. He silently thanked Christian for interrupting.

A phone started ringing and all three of them reached into their pockets. It was Jared’s. He answered, then there was a lot of ‘mm-hmms’ and ‘uh-huhs’, followed by a ‘sure, ma’ as he poured what Jensen thought was an excessive amount of sugar into his coffee. He hung up and grinned, eyes shining, like he knew a secret.

“That was my ma, she thought I got lost,” he said jovially and Jensen thought it sounded fantastic, strong and confident. “My family is throwing a big Christmas dinner party - weekend after next. The 17th. She instructed me to invite you two and not take no for an answer. Would you come?”

“Oh, jeez- uh-”

“Well-”

Jensen and Christian both started stuttering at the same time. Jared’s face fell slightly and he held up his hands. That puppy dog look should be illegal, Jensen thought. He could get away with murder.

“Hey, if you guys are worried, we’re all really accepting here, I’m gay myself,” Jared placated. “You don’t have to worry about anyone giving you grief.”

Christian’s jaw fell open and his eyes bugged out of his head and Jensen gasped in surprise, eyes widening. Christian spoke first, while Jensen doubled over in his chair cackling.

“We’re not,” he indicated to himself and Jensen, “together. We’re basically brothers. I’m leaving that Friday to visit my family for Christmas, but Jensen’ll be there.”

“I will?” Jensen asked, straightening up and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, you will,” Christian nodded, smirking wickedly. “Go. Make friends. Jared, can you make sure he doesn’t hole himself up and become a recluse while I’m gone?”

“Gladly, I’ll even walk you over myself.” there was that smile again. He changed the subject, “I saw a few guitar cases in the living room, who plays?”

“We both do, actually. Since high school,” Jensen explained. “We played in bars before we were even twenty-one!”

“What kind of music?” Jared prompted.

“Country and rock. We mostly play acoustic only since it’s just us,” Christian answered, sipping his coffee and leaning his back against the counter. “Brawler’s is where Jens met his first ever boyfriend. They were alllllllll over each other that night.”

Jensen made a disgusted noise and Jared snorted loudly into his coffee. “Christopher Michael! God, we just met him and you’re waving my dirty laundry around.”

“Now, now, no need for full names, Jensen Ross,” Christian admonished playfully.

“Anyway,” Jared drew out the word, standing up, “I should definitely be off before Ma comes looking for me!”

He made a move to turn, but stopped quickly and looked at Jensen.

“What’s your phone number?” Jared asked, big hopeful eyes holding Jensen’s attention. “You know, so I can give you all the details for the party?”

He watched Jared type the numbers into his phone, then heard his own phone chirp.

“There ya are! Don’t be afraid to say ‘hi’ if you want.” Jared gave him a wink.

Jensen watched Jared’s retreating back as he left, mind caught up in Jared’s eyes and lips. Christian waved a hand in front of his face and waited for Jensen to meet his eyes. He gave Jensen a very pointed look, blue eyes piercing him. Then, shifted his eyes, indicating the doorway where Jared had disappeared.

“We should get the rest of the boxes inside,” Jensen sighed and turned to walk out to the van.

That evening, Jensen dug through a box in his room and pulled out a scrapbook. He got himself comfortable on his bed, back up against the headboard and scrapbook sitting in his lap. Jensen stared at the green cover.

He tipped the book open to his favorite page and stared at an 8x10 of his commitment ceremony. Big bubble letters and numbers in Misha’s handwriting said March 17, 2001. Jensen’s arm was slung around Misha’s shoulders, a giant smile spread across his face and Misha was leaning into Jensen, a toothy grin on his face and blue eyes sparkling with joy. Champagne was spraying all around them thanks to Christian who was on the right side of the picture, head thrown back in laughter and the champagne bottle in his hand.

Jensen traced Misha’s face, a mixture of happiness and sadness surrounding him. They all looked so young. Twenty-four years together, twenty of them after a commitment ceremony, six after their official marriage ceremony, and for Jensen that would never be enough. He turned the pages slowly, watching their lives together, then as Misha began looking sickly; Misha’s eyes never lost their sparkle though. Jensen stopped again at his second favorite picture, smiling sadly.

They’d hired a photographer; well, Christian had. They’d practically carried Misha into the yard and onto a blanket. The sun was shining brightly, but the temperature was perfect. They were sitting cross-legged, Misha pressed into his side, eyes closed and a soft smile on his face. Jensen’s head was resting on top of Misha’s and his eyes were closed, too, soaking in the moment. That had been their last anniversary together. A tear snuck down his cheek and he wiped it away quickly.

“Jens! Let's go out and ex-” the door to his room was thrown open, startling him, and Christian’s words died out.

They stared at each other for a solid minute before Christian whispered, “oh, Jen,” and climbed up onto the bed, settling himself down next to Jensen. He threw an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and tugged him close. After a while sitting in silence, Jensen chuckled.

“Remember when Misha proposed?” Jensen asked, resting his head on Christian’s shoulder.

“How could anyone forget that?” Christian laughed. “He talked me into helping build that stupid gummy bear wonderland for you AND the freaking firework pyrotechnics.”

“And Steve choreographed the dance and singing and sound set up, jeez,” Jensen reminisced fondly. Christian was still chuckling. “You nearly killed us all and set the gazebo on fire!”

“And he talked me into building three gingerbread houses? Never again. Took four tries before we figured out how to set the stupid frosting so the damn thing didn’t fall apart.”

“Then the freak thunderstorm that rolled in from the mountains, and you, me, Misha, and Steve took cover in that little shed,” Jensen was fully laughing, now.

“Oh, hell. ‘What do you wanna marry me for anyhow?’” Christian mocked Jensen’s voice. Then dropped his voice to mimic Misha’s. “‘So I can kiss you anytime I want.’ Fuckin’ Sweet Home Alabama rom-com bullshit.”

“Hey,” Jensen gasped out, unable to control his laughter, “that was the first movie we watched together.”

They chuckled together for a bit until the laughter died out and they sat in a comfortable silence again. One of the things Jensen appreciated most about Christian was the never-wavering support he gave. Jensen’s mind wandered along memories until his brain settled on a tall man with shaggy hair and dimples. For the first time since Misha died, Jensen felt a tug of attraction, of want; it felt weird and good with a hint of guilt, like he was having an affair. His brain told him logically that no, it wasn’t an affair, but his heart couldn’t help but disagree.

“What’s stopping you?” Christian asked solemnly, like he’d read Jensen’s mind.

“It’s illogical, I know I shouldn’t feel like this,” Jensen said, matching Christian’s tone, “but I feel like I’m having an affair. I feel guilty. I feel like I’m leaving him behind. I’ve been lonely; I mean, I have you, but it’s not the same, it’s I-miss-having-someone-next-to-me-in-bed type lonely, but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to love or… I just feel like I’m replacing him if I go out with another man.”

Jensen looked over to Christian, head still resting on his shoulder. After thirty-five years of brotherhood friendship, they could read each other like a book. Christian was looking up to the ceiling, pensieve and calculating, no doubt choosing his next words carefully. This was the first time since Misha died that he’d even brought up the idea of Jensen dating again, which he appreciated more than Christian would ever know. Steve, Jason, and a few others had all said at one time or another that Jensen should ‘get back out there’ and ‘you need to get laid’ among other things.

Christian huffed once before crawling out of the bed and striding purposefully out of the room. Jensen raised an eyebrow, but waited patiently for Christian to come back. When he did, he had a thin document box under his arm. Jensen threw him a questioning look, but Christian ignored him, placing the box at the foot of the bed and opening it. He pulled out a sturdy leather portfolio. Flipping it open, he cleared his throat, standing straight with his shoulders back; he began to read.

“To my wonderful, handsome, loving husband. Twenty-four years went by in the blink of an eye. I ask this of you, my love, as my last wish: Continue to live your life with strength and love. Speak my name with joy and fondness as you always have. Do not dwell on my death forever. And the most important - Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened. Now a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye:

‘Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.’”

Jensen’s eyes were blurry with tears and his nose was clogged. The piece of paper Christian was reading from was a thick parchment with Misha’s handwriting carefully and clearly written out. Nearly three pages that he’d instructed Christian to read out before he delivered his own eulogy for Misha. There was a lot more, but Christian put the portfolio back in its box and sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed facing Jensen. Jensen took in huge, gulping breaths and when he quieted, Christian spoke again.

“I’m not going to tell you to get over it and move on, I’m not going to force you into the dating world, it’s not my place. Or anyone’s for that matter, except you. Misha wanted you to be happy, though, and Jared seems like a good person to test out the dating world with. If you hate it, I’m not gonna press the issue, you can hide away and become a miserable pessimistic asshole like me.”

“Harsh,” Jensen sniffed. Then fondly, “Thanks, Chris.”

“Anytime,” Christian said affectionately. “Now, that’s enough chick-flick mushiness. You good?”

“Yeah, Chris, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Christian nodded, satisfied. He got up and headed out of the room, but then stopped in the doorway. He turned, “Have you eaten anything today?”

Jensen ducked his head and grinned sheepishly. Christian made a noise of annoyance.

“I’ll scrounge something together,” he huffed. “Now, text Jared and see where it goes.”

“Bossy.”

“Prick.”

“Cocksucker!”

“You wish! You’re just jealous cause I never wanted to suck yours or anyone else’s.”

Jensen barked out a laugh and he heard Christian snort from the stairway as he plodded downstairs to the kitchen. Jensen grabbed his phone from the nightstand and stared at it nervously. He unlocked it and went to his messages, clicking on Jared’s name.

Hey. Long time, no talk.

Well that was cringey. It turned from “delivered” to “read” and Jensen’s heart thumped hard.

I know, it’s been forever! Lol.

Ma is stoked you’re coming to the party.

That’s great. I’m looking forward to it. Are you staying with your parents?

Yeah, I have an apartment in town, but near the holidays everyone stays with our parents. Family time and all that. It’s me, my brother Jeff, and my sister Megan. Meg and Jeff live in Providence and drive in.

It's awesome that you all get together like that. Sounds like a good time! Or do they drive you crazy?

Hahaha. A bit of both. What about you? Chris - or should I call him Christian? - said he was going home for Christmas, but you’re staying?

Ah, yeah. My parents love me, but they aren’t exactly accepting of ‘my lifestyle’. My sister Mackenzie lives in Portland with her family and Josh lives in Venice, Italy. The last time we all got together was in like 2005ish… Didn’t go very well. Chris’ Mama invited me to theirs, but I just decided to stay here and get settled. I don’t think he minds one way or another what you call him. How far away is town by the way?

Oh, it’s only about a fifteen-minute drive. Boston is around an hour depending on traffic. I’m sorry, it must be hard not seeing your family :( I came out my senior year, but my parents have been very supportive. Is that why you moved to Denver?

Yeah. I wanted to get out of Texas and Chris was accepted at University of Denver. I applied and got accepted, too. Off we went. I studied English and Literary Arts as well as some business. Where did you go to college?

Boston U. Just studied business and got hired at my dad’s company when I graduated. I wanted to ask earlier, but you said you worked at Ackles-Collins, do you own it?

I’m part owner, yeah, but I hang back mostly. I like being an editor more than anything.

Would you like to hang out the day after tomorrow? I was going to go into town and do some Christmas shopping. It’s always more fun going with someone, y’know?

Sure I think I’d like that. Chris is calling me for dinner, so I’ll talk to you later? We’ll finalize the plans.

Definitely :)

On Monday at ten-thirty, Jensen was sitting in an armchair near the fire in the living room, Christian sitting on the couch opposite. They were casually playing guitar together, but Jensen couldn't play a chord to save his life at the moment. Jared would be arriving any minute to pick him up to go shopping.

“Relax, everything’s gonna be great,” Christian encouraged, putting his guitar down. “Just get out, go have some fun with Jared, and pick up a real nice present for me.”

Christian winked at him, smiling. Jensen rolled his eyes and put his guitar down, too. He’d decided on a worn pair of boot cut jeans, and a thick green zip-up hoodie. He’d set out a dark green fleece-lined ear-flap beanie, touchscreen gloves, and his favorite dark gray wool peacoat that had an extra wool inner lining.

They both turned when they heard a car pull into the driveway. Jensen stood and quickly put on his hat, coat, and gloves, shoving his keys in the pocket of his coat. A horn honked. When Jensen turned, Christian was opening the front door for him.

“Good day, sire, your carriage awaits,” Christian said in a ridiculous accent, bowing with a flourish. Jensen couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen snickered as he walked to the door. Christian put his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and fake-sniffed as though he were overcome with emotion.

“My big boy, going out on a date. I’m so proud!” He exclaimed sarcastically.

“Oh, shut up!” Jensen retorted half annoyed and half amused, slapping Christian’s arms back and walking out the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“I won’t wait up!” Christian cackled at his own joke and swung the door shut.

The drive into town with Jared was filled with soft music and conversation about their favorite music and movies. The town was very small, with just a couple blocks of various shops right in the center. To Jensen, the town looked like it had been pulled directly from a Thomas Kinkade painting; there were even two horse-drawn carriages giving people rides.

“If you want, we can just start down one side and come back on the other. If we see a shop we want to stop in, then we do?” Jared asked as he turned off the car.

“Sounds good to me,” Jensen smiled back.

Jared was wearing a black and tan windbreaker parka that had a faux fur lined hood and a slouchy purple beanie. Jensen couldn’t help but notice the way Jared’s jeans outlined his ass as he caught up to walk next to Jared. They passed a clothing boutique, a craft shop, and a framing store before they came upon a window that made Jensen stop to look. Jared stopped, too, and told him that it was a local music shop called ‘Hutton’s Music House’.

“Let's go in!” He exclaimed, taking Jensen’s hand and pulling him to the door; a bell tinkled when they stepped in. A girl looked up from the counter and smiled, greeting Jared by name. “Hey, Gen! Jensen, this is my friend Gen, we took a bunch of classes together in college. Gen, this is Jensen, he’s new in town.”

“I never would have graduated without Jared,” she laughed, scrunching her nose. “Business was not for me! Welcome to town, Jensen. Anything I can help you find?”

“Jensen’s a musician, so I thought we’d take a look around,” Jared piped up.

“It’s good to meet you, Gen,” Jensen nodded. “Do you have replacement pickups? And can you show me your guitar strings?”

Gen showed them over to a case on the opposite wall that contained a medium-sized collection of pickups ranging from acoustic, electric, bass, and even a few for violins. Jensen scanned them carefully and Jared said he was going to look at the guitar room.

“Anything particular you’re looking for? We have more in the back that are for older and specialized models and we can order as well,” Gen informed him.

“Well, my roommate and I have been meaning to replace the pickups on his 1956 Fender Strat, but we’ve been so busy the last couple years it just hasn’t happened.”

“Woah, 1956? And he still plays it?” Gen asked incredulously.

“Not very often, we only use it for recording, otherwise it’s in a custom protective case. We’re finally going to be able to record again, so we’ll need it.”

“Hang on, I’ll check it out. Are you wanting, like, originals?” She asked, walking back to the counter.

“Doesn’t have to be, last time I think we used Klein,” Jensen said, meandering around the room slowly. “Don’t worry too much about it, I can order them if I need to.”

Gen typed on a desktop computer that looked like it was from 1997. Jared stepped back in and dragged Jensen into another room of the shop, walls lined with guitars of all kinds as well as other instruments and accessories. Jensen was impressed, the place had seemed so small from outside. They strode around the room together, Jared asking Jensen about nearly every guitar not unlike a curious child. Jensen answered amusedly to the best of his ability; Jensen stopped them when they reached a section of wall dedicated to strings for all types of instruments. He explained each type of guitar string to Jared, along with the sounds they produced and various uses until Gen came up beside them.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” she interjected, excitedly. “I have some good news.”

“Yeah?” Jensen straightened and turned to Gen, interested.

“I called the owner, Tim, and he’s on his way in. Apparently, he has an unopened set that was ordered and never picked up last year.”

“Oh, he didn’t need to make a special trip or anything,” Jensen sputtered.

“It’s okay,” Gen insisted. “He lives upstairs.”

There was a loud bang and out of a door labeled “Employees Only” came an older man with slightly disheveled dark hair wearing blue jeans and a green sweater. He strode quickly to them, holding a hand out to Jared, then Jensen.

“I’m Tim Hutton, owner. Gen said you had a 1956 strat?” He resounded. “I absolutely had to come down and meet ya. Not everyday you hear about a guitar like that!”

“Ah, well, it's actually my roommate's. His dad passed it down to him when we started recording our own music,” Jensen explained.

“Wow-oh-wow. I would love to see that!” Tim exclaimed.

“I can show you some pictures,” Jensen pulled his phone and scrolled through his photo albums, “but we never take it anywhere. It’s only used for recording and we do all the maintenance ourselves.”

Jared moved to look over Tim’s shoulder at the pictures Jensen showed. They were taken quite a few years ago during a recording session and were mostly of Christian, a few with Jensen, and two with Christian, Jensen, Steve, and Jason.

“That is a gorgeous guitar,” Tim said in awe. “Anyway, I brought down the pickups for you. Is there anything else we can find for you?”

“Did you still want strings?” Jared asked.

“Oh yeah,” Jensen turned back to the wall. He pointed to a brand called ‘Aurore Specialty’ that only had one each of acoustic and electric, and said questioningly, “I’ve never heard of this brand before.”

“They’re local,” Tim boasted. “I helped get the business going and I help with marketing. My sister and her husband actually make them.”

“Oh the only place I’ve heard of doing that in the US is in LA,” Jensen marveled.

“And they’re mostly produced on order only,” Tim continued, sounding like a salesman. “I keep a couple guitar ones in the shop so we can offer them up to new customers. Listen, I’ll give you a set on the house since you’re buying these pickups. Try ‘em out and see if you like ‘em!”

As they made their way to the register, two books next to each other caught his eye called ‘Mosh Potatoes’ and ‘Eat Like a Rockstar.’ They were recipe books. Jensen chuckled and grabbed both of them; Christian loved to cook, these would surely bring a laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jared giving him an admiring look, a lovable smile plastered across his face.

After they left the guitar shop, Jensen carrying a paper bag with the pickups, books, and a set of acoustic strings, Jared asked if they could go to a bookstore called ‘Bound Around.’ It was unlike any book shop Jensen had ever seen before. It smelled like an old book, slightly musty, and there was no rhyme, reason, or organization for where the books were. Multiple piles of books were just stacked precariously from the floor to chest height and the bookshelves also had books stacked horizontally instead of vertically. Jared quickly disappeared into the maze while Jensen slowly picked his path through the stacks. Five minutes later, Jared appeared at his side, grinning widely.

“Found a book for my mom,” he said breathily, holding up a copy of ‘The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.’

“Oh, that book definitely keeps your attention,” Jensen remarked. “Very Marilyn Monroe-esque.”

“You’ve read it?” Jared asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah,” Jensen said lightheartedly. “I helped edit the first draft as a favor. The chief editor, a good friend of mine, who was assigned the book had to assign it to his brand new editor because they were flooded with work. He called me and asked if I had time to coach and mentor the new kid.”

“Any recs for my sister? She loves a good horror thriller,” Jared’s eyes sparkled hopefully. Jensen thought for awhile, walking around and eyeing books.

“Hmm,” he pulled a book from the middle of a stack, quickly stabilizing it with his other hand so the whole thing didn’t crash to the ground. “I read it in high school randomly. I really like reading, so I’d go find random books to read. I doubt she’d have read it. It’s a thrilling horror-type book.”

“Sounds good to me!” Jared took the book titled ‘Skin’. “Do you need anything here or want to look around more?”

“No, I think I’m good. I’m actually getting hungry. You?”

“Food sounds great to me! We can drop this at the car and go to Radial,” seeing Jensen’s raised eyebrow, Jared added, “a local café.”

At the register, Jensen was surprised to see a till that looked like it belonged in a museum, with mechanical buttons and even a pull handle. Jared asked the elderly man if he could see a book resting on a shelf behind him. The worker turned without speaking and grabbed a leather-bound book, setting it on the counter for Jared; he eyed Jared suspiciously. Jensen watched as he opened the book carefully, almost reverently. It was a posh leatherbound copy of ‘The Great Gatsby’ and it was signed by the illustrator. Jensen watched, infatuation blooming in his chest.

“‘The Great Gatsby’ is my favorite,” Jared said, handing the book back, a wistful look on his face, then gave the man the two books he was going to purchase.

When they exited the shop, Jensen stopped abruptly, pretending to search his pockets. Jared looked at him in concern.

“I need to run back in,” Jensen said quickly. “I think I set my phone down by accident.”

“Okay.”

Jensen rushed back into the bookstore and over to the counter. The old man squinted at him with disdain.

“I’d like to buy that leather bound book my friend was looking at,” Jensen explained, pointing behind the man.

“Must be a good friend,” his voice was wheezy and high-pitched. “You realize it’s a leatherbound, signed copy? It’s quite expensive.”

“I don’t mind,” Jensen huffed, pulling out his credit card.

“I prefer cash,” he sneered. “Extra charge for card payments.”

“It’s fine, charge me whatever, just hurry before he gets suspicious and comes back in, please!”

After signing the receipt, Jensen tucked the book in his bag from the music store and joined Jared outside. They had a great lunch talking about books they’d read and their opinions. Throughout the entire meal, they both saw the other staring multiple times, looking away quickly when they’d been caught. It turned out they had very similar taste in books and Jensen learned that Jared led a monthly book club. They didn’t meet in December, but would meet in January and Jared asked if he’d like to join. Jensen tentatively agreed as they walked back to Jared’s car.

When Jared pulled into Jensen’s driveway, there was an awkward moment where Jensen was afraid Jared was going to lean over and kiss him. He didn’t think he was ready for something like that at all, so he thanked Jared for the good time and bade him a quick goodbye.

Inside, he could hear loud thumping music coming from upstairs. As Jensen stripped his outdoor gear and made his way upstairs to his bedroom, he recognized Luke Bryan booming from Christian’s room. He hid the presents he’d bought under his bed and laid down on top of the covers to think.

He tried to sort out the mixture of complex emotions swirling around his brain. Attraction, admiration, optimism mixed with fear, guilt, and uncertainty. Not to mention the underlying feelings of disloyalty and insecurity. At some point, the music abruptly stopped, but he was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice. In the end, Jensen ended up passing out from sheer tiredness, still fully clothed on top of the blanket.

Jensen stared into the full-length mirror on his closet door, barely recognizing himself and feeling out of sorts; it had been a long time since he’d needed to dress up for an event. Jensen had even trimmed his beard from the unkempt overgrown bush he’d been sporting to a well-groomed, even-trimmed short beard. Jared had texted him the day before letting Jensen know he’d arrive at 6:30 to walk over to the dinner party and that it was a dressy event. He’d asked Jared for clarification to which he received the response “Ma says formal.” Jensen had one suit, besides his formal funeral suit, that was navy blue and made of cashmere with a perfectly matched tie and waistcoat. The button-up was a very pale blue and he’d chosen a white handkerchief with blue pinstripes.

He’d fought with himself for a half hour over which knot to tie his tie, ultimately deciding on the half Windsor. Jensen went to his dresser where he’d set out cufflinks, watch, belt, phone, and wallet. His eyes fell on the crystal jewelry dish where he kept his wedding ring while he was showering. A new wave of guilt washed over him as he took the ring and rolled it through his hand. In a moment of panic, he grabbed his phone to text Jared and tell him he needed to cancel, but there was a message waiting for him from Christian.

I swear to God, Jens, if you cancel on Jared, I’ll wring your neck when I get back.

He took in a deep, calming breath and looked back to the ring. Misha wanted you to move on when you were ready, he told himself. You’re not betraying him, you’re not cheating on him. True, he was still working through the end of his grief, but he had spent the last week and a half pondering what it might be like to date again. In particular, date a hazel-eyed, shaggy-haired, dimpled-cheeked man. He shouldn’t wear it; Jared would definitely notice and Jensen didn’t want him to think he was emotionally unavailable. His phone buzzed, “Chris” popping back up on the screen.

Misha wanted you to move on and be happy again. Give it a chance, for your sake and mine.

The telepathy thing they had annoyed Jensen sometimes. Neither of them had any hope of lying to other, or hiding any sort of secret. Sometimes it was helpful though; like that time in college Jensen had slipped on the porch of their home and broken his ankle, leg, and wrist. It was dark and Jensen hadn’t seen the thick layer of ice built up. He couldn’t move and Christian wasn’t supposed to come home that night; for half an hour, Jensen had lain there overwhelmed and terrified. Then suddenly Christian was there, yanking him out of the snow and wrapping him in a heated blanket until EMS arrived. Jensen remembered Christian sitting next to his hospital bed later saying, ‘I just knew something had happened.’

After a few more moments of deep breathing, Jensen set the ring back in the bowl. He donned everything else, then replied to Christian.

I’m going, I’m going. Stop nagging. No wonder Jared thought we were an item.

As Jensen made his way downstairs, the doorbell rang. He tucked his phone into his pocket then pulled the door open. Jensen sucked in a breath and took a second to take in all of Jared. He was wearing a charcoal gray three-piece with a crisp white shirt and a dark, blue-green tie. He was clean-shaven which made his dimples stand out even more than they had last week. When Jensen’s eyes fell on Jared’s, he realized Jared had been checking him out, too.

“Hey,” Jensen greeted lamely.

“Hi,” Jared grinned. “You clean up pretty nice.”

“Could say the same about you,” Jensen said cheekily. “Oh, shit. Hang on.”

Jensen stepped to the sideboard and grabbed the bottles of champagne and wine he’d chosen from his personal collection. Then he stepped outside and locked the door behind him.

“Shall we?” he asked. “Lead on!”

“Oh, yes! What do you have?” Jared started down the driveway, Jensen falling in step beside him.

“Uh. Just a bottle of champagne and red wine for the hosts. Y’know, proper dinner etiquette and all that.”

Jared laughed lightly. He took one of the bottles from Jensen and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the label. “Is that a Dom Pérignon?”

“Yeah, it’s a 1990 brut, is that okay? We can go back and get a rosé if your parents would prefer something sweeter or I think I have a few bottles of 2004 Plénitude as well,” Jensen had stopped walking, feeling anxious; Jared looked over at him, perplexed.

“No, it’s fine, Ma and Dad will absolutely love it. I was just surprised at the brand,” he laughed and started walking down the path again, beckoning Jensen to come with him. “Are you a wine snob? You gotta tell a guy that, y’know?”

Jensen chuckled. “I mean, I have my preferences but I wouldn’t consider myself a snob.”

“Oh, good, cause I know practically nothing about wine. I’m more of a beer guy myself, much to my mother’s dismay,” he joked, giggling.

Jensen thought he could listen to the sound of Jared’s laugh for hours on repeat; he felt a smile spread across his face and thought that a butterfly was suddenly trying to escape his stomach. The walk took about ten minutes which Jared filled with talk about his family and the guests that would be at the party. Jensen soaked in Jared’s voice, only offering an occasional ‘really’ or ‘mm-hmm’ and letting Jared drive the conversation.

They walked up the driveway to a very lovely two story house that looked much like his own. There were Christmas lights lining the roof, glowing softly. The front window was glowing as well and by the shadows, Jensen figured people had started to arrive. He paused for a moment before stepping onto the porch and shook himself lightly to loosen himself up. Jared opened the door for him, showing his bright smile. They were bombarded as soon as they stepped inside.

“Oh, Jared, honey! I was wondering when you’d get back home!” A shorter, matronly woman bustled her way to them, positively glowing with happiness. She was wearing a beautiful emerald green dress. “Oh! And you must be Jensen! Welcome to the neighborhood, dear, Jared’s been talking about you non-stop.”

Before Jensen could say anything, Jared’s mom - Sherri, if he remembered correctly - was pulling him in for a quick hug and cupped his face, kissing his cheek.

“Maa!” Jared groaned, pink darkening across his cheeks. Jensen threw him a delighted smirk.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Padalecki,” Jensen took one of her hands, kissed it lightly, and then presented the bottles to her. “For the hosts of the evening; thank you for having me as a guest.”

“My! What proper manners,” Sherri gushed as she took the bottles from Jensen. “You can call me Sherri. Come on in, let’s introduce you to Gerry.”

Jensen followed Sherri through the house to the kitchen, followed closely by Jared. She stopped multiple times, saying hello and introducing Jensen and sometimes Jared, too. There were two men and a woman laughing when they walked in. The older man bent down, peeking in the oven. Over his black suit, he was wearing a daisy covered apron.

“Gerry,” Sherri called, “come meet Jensen, our new neighbor!”

All three people turned to face them and the man in the apron stepped forward, a hand held out. Jensen shook it firmly, returning the friendly smile.

“Good to meet you, sir,” Jensen greeted, inclining his head.

“Oh, please, call me Gerry. This is Jeff, my oldest boy, and Megan, Jared’s younger sister.”

“Hon, Jensen brought us some wine,” Sherri said, holding the bottles out to her husband.

“Wow!” Gerry exclaimed when he took the bottles from Sherri. “You have a fine taste in wine and champagne. Thank you!”

“These are definitely my favorites,” Jensen confirmed.

“Well, I am most certainly going to open these tonight. Might have to keep them hidden from the other guests,” he joked. “1990 and 2009 were great years for vineyards.”

“Jared, go introduce Jensen to some of the others, make him feel welcome while we finish up dinner,” Sherri instructed, shooing them from the kitchen. Jensen instead leaned against the wall outside of the kitchen, grinning madly at Jared.

“So, you haven’t stopped talking about me?” Jensen questioned mischievously, tilting his head to the side.

“Ma and her big mouth,” Jared groaned. “She’s exaggerating, I swear.”

“Oh my god,” Jensen bent over, laughing a full belly laugh. “You’ve got the same look Chris gets when he’s lying!”

“I’m not - I didn’t - I - I - I really like you,” Jared admitted, pink spreading across his face again. He babbled on, “I mean, sorry, I - Well, you’re just attractive, like, really, really, attractive and very fun to hang out with and -”

“Woah, hey, you’re insanely attractive yourself,” Jensen reached his right hand to his left; he often twisted his wedding ring when he was nervous, but the hand was empty so Jensen dropped his hands, shaking them out slightly. “You’re pretty awesome yourself.”

He kept trying to twist his ring throughout the whole party. It happened at least ten more times before dinner was over and Jensen was starting to feel the stress. Jared had definitely noticed, even raising an eyebrow at him once as if asking if Jensen was okay.

“Jensen,” Gerry called from the head of the table. Jensen was seated two people away from him. “What is it that you do? Jared said something about books, right?”

“Yes, sir. I’m a book editor for Ackles-Collins Publishing,” Jensen responded.

“Your last name is Collins isn’t it? Any relation there?”

“Uh,” Jensen grinned sheepishly. He reached for his hand again, but quickly redirected, pretending to adjust his sleeve. “Yes, I’m actually part owner.”

“That is amazing and at such a young age! I own McCarthy International, I think Jared mentioned your roommate was hired on as a translator,” Gerry shared. “How are you two settling in?”

“Really well, we’ve spent the last two weeks learning the new town and unpacking everything. Jared’s shown me all of the local shops and fun places to go.”

Gerry’s attention was soon pulled away by another man and Jensen was pulled into conversation with Sherri about his college education and publishing house. As dinner finished and people started to move from the table and mingle again, Jensen asked Jared where the bathroom was. Jared led Jensen upstairs, away from the crowd. He found it slightly odd because there were no lights on upstairs. They moved into a dark hallway and Jared turned to Jensen, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, placing his hands lightly on Jensen’s upper arms. “It’s like you’re getting more nervous as the night goes on.”

Automatically, Jensen made an aborted move to twist his absent ring, huffing exasperatedly when he dropped his hands back to his sides.

“And you keep doing that, too. Are you uncomfortable? Are there too many strangers? I can walk you home?” Jared placed his hands over Jensen’s, face showing only care and sympathy.

“No.. No. I’m not,” Jensen sighed; he’d hoped he would be able to wait a few dates before having this talk with Jared. “I need to explain something and I am praying you’ll understand because I don’t want to ruin this before it starts.”

“C’mere,” Jared walked Jensen to the end of the hall and pushed him lightly through a door, following closely.

The light flicked on and Jensen found himself in what had to be Jared’s childhood bedroom. The walls were bright blue, plastered with various posters of sports teams and bands. He sat down on a large bed and patted the tye-dye duvet next to him. Jensen sat down, staring at his hands, heart pounding in his throat.

“I don’t mind, Jensen. Whatever it is, it’s better to tell me now. I would really like to go out with you, but if that’s not what you want -”

Jensen cut him off. “No, no, I want that, too. I just - I wanted to wait until we’d had a couple dates, but - You should know that I had a husband for twenty years,” Jensen’s breath caught in his throat; he swallowed thickly and continued before Jared could interject. “He passed, July of last year.”

“Oh my god,” Jared gasped in surprise.

“Sorry, it’s a lot to take in. This is the first time I’ve really considered going out with someone since, and I am really looking forward to it, if you’ll still have me. I come with a lot of baggage and that’s not for everyone. I took my wedding ring off, that’s why I keep wringing my hands together; I just didn’t want to give you the wrong impression by wearing it,” Jensen muttered, afraid to look into Jared's face.

Unexpectedly, Jensen was completely enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, face pressed into Jared’s shoulder. He smelled wonderful, Jensen thought, closing his eyes; pine trees, holiday berries, and a hint of peppermint. He brought his arms up and returned the hug. Jared pulled back and pressed his forehead to Jensen’s and he saw that Jared’s eyes were bright and teary.

“You don’t have to apologize for something like that,” Jared murmured sympathetically. “That must have been so, so hard for you. I can’t even imagine.”

Jensen sniffed once and smiled softly, blinking the tears in his eyes away. “Well, I’m not sure how to respond to that, but, if you’d let me, I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime. Maybe you and your family will come over sometime? I’ll make Chris cook cause I’m still not very good at that.”

Jared laughed heartily.

“You need to stop that,” Jensen deadpanned. Jared looked taken aback. He dropped the seriousness and said, “It makes me want to tickle you just so I can hear it.”

They grinned at each other for a few beats before Jensen spoke again, “We should get back to the party, people will think there’s some hanky-panky going on.”

“Hanky-panky?!” Jared burst out laughing, doubling over.

When he’d finally regained his composure, Jared led Jensen back downstairs. They stuck together for the rest of the night, having great conversations with other guests as well as each other, until the party began to die down. Jensen’s heart felt like it was going to explode with warmth and joy, optimistic for the first time in what seemed like a century. He began to make his way to the kitchen for some water when Jared called for him to stop with an urgent tone.

“Wha -” Jensen stopped in his tracks between the living room and dining room and turned around. Jared strode up to him, a huge smile on his face. He looked up and Jensen followed his eyes. When Jensen looked back to Jared’s face, it had turned to a look of sly giddiness.

“Mistletoe!” Jared said triumphantly. “Guess someone needs to kiss you.”

Jensen let out a soft huff of laughter, but then Jared’s lips were lightly pressed to his, soft and chaste and fleeting. Jared looked delighted with himself when he pulled back and Jensen couldn’t help but smile shyly and appreciate the simplicity. A warm hand enveloped his own and their fingers laced together.

“Will you walk me home?” Jensen asked, his voice breathy and hopeful.

“I’d be delighted to,” Jared smiled and tilted his head to the side, eyes bright and excited.

#jensen ackles x jared padalecki #jensen ackles x misha collins (past)#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #christian kane #padalecki family #genevieve cortese #timothy hutton #meet-cute #fluff #floof #schmoop #slight angst #loss #rom-com #christmas #spnfanficpond secret santa

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