#i do have to sleep soon since i start a new early shift at work ... squints

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[maddiesentmehere118]

The Price of Love

Eddie Diaz x plus size! reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: hurt and comfort, misunderstandings, past trauma

Author's Notes: I will have a fluff one-shot with Eddie soon!

E. Diaz Taglist | Masterlist

The fight had started over something so small, so harmless that neither of you should have held onto the grudge. However, when two bull headed people get together and fight over something this petty, it feels like it becomes a challenge of who will break first. It’s something you both have been working on, but sometimes the old habit wiggles its way back in. 

You had picked Chris up from school the previous day while his dad was out running some errands. Tomorrow was Veterans Day, and Chris was already talking about wanting to do something for his dad. His hero.

You thought it’d be a nice gesture to have Chris pick something out for his Dad. He had worked so hard and sacrificed so much for Christopher and his family without a complaint. 

If you had known that this would cause an argument, you would’ve just stuck with the card he made at school. For their history lesson today, they made cards for a veteran they knew, and if they didn’t know one, it was going to be taken to the VA for someone else. 

Chris needed a new jacket, so you decided to hit two birds with one stone. You convinced him to pick out a Columbia fleece jacket so he could match with his dad, then he could pick out something small to go with it. 

You also splurged on yourself and got a jacket, but made sure to make it different. You didn’t want to take away from the special moment between Chris and his father, but Chris wanted you to get one too. 

For the two boys to get a two-tone navy and blue jacket, and yourself a purple jacket, along with a relaxing basket for him and Chris to enjoy, you spent close to $300, which wasn’t a problem because you made plenty of money nursing. 

However, you had stupidly left the receipt scrunched up on the counter, forgotten as you helped Chris wrap the presents that night. You would be giving it to him early, since both of you had to be at work early in the morning for your 12-hour shifts.

He was ecstatic to receive the gifts, so you thought. That was until Chris went to bed, and then you got the lecture from him. 

“Three hundred dollars? Are you trying to teach Chris that love means spending money?”

That was a low blow, even for Eddie. You were beyond infuriated. 

“It was his idea to get you a gift. He needed a new coat and he wanted to have a matching one with his dad!” You raised your voice, not too loud to wake Chris up, but just enough to show your irritation. “And he wanted to get stuff you could enjoy together when you were home. I let him pick whatever because you never get spoiled.”

“Oh, so you think that I couldn’t take my son to get a new coat?”

That was the last straw. You were seeing red, tears of anger threatening to spill over. 

“I never said that! But since you now have the receipt, feel free to return whatever you want and keep the money.”

You stormed off, grabbing your new coat and purse. You had mostly moved out of your apartment, thus your personal belongings were in the Diaz home. But you didn’t care at that moment. You needed to get out of there for the night. 

He had said your name, attempting to come after you. You swung around, sending him a glare. 

“Don’t worry. Next time I’ll approve my purchases with you, Dad.” You delivered the final blow, slamming the door on your way out. 

You slept well that night, only because you had cried yourself to sleep. Your eyes were dry all day, and you had to keep putting eye drops in during the shift. 

You had gotten one message from Eddie that morning. It was two simple words. 

I’m sorry.

You had gotten swamped at work early that morning and you still needed time to seethe. 

You’d planned to text him on your lunch break, but the day got away from you.  There wasn’t time to eat or take a breather.Patients kept coming. It was a miracle that you didn’t see the 118. 

6 o’clock finally rolled around, and you were sitting in the bathroom, taking a few moments to breathe. You could practically feel every cell in your feet as they throbbed. You forgot your good pair of shoes at the house and settled on some old ones in the apartment.

Then you opened your phone and realized that you hadn’t responded to Eddie’s text. Your heart dropped into your stomach, mind kicking into overdrive.

 Had you just made things worse by playing an accidental game of silent treatment?

You type out a quick text: I’m sorry, too. I honestly forgot to respond. We were so busy, I didn't even eat lunch.

You cut your time short in the bathroom, washing your hands and gathering your belongings to head out to your car. 

You jump out of your skin when somones pushes off the wall next to the exit. 

“Woah, hey, it’s just me. I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Eddie. 

Now that there’s no immediate danger, you clutch at your chest, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself. He gently grabs you, pulling you out of the way of the doors.

“What the hell, Eddie! You can’t be doing that!”

“I know. I’m sorry. Let me walk you to your car?”

You nod, giving a small smile. You lead the way, his hand hovering on your lower back protectively. You subtly move closer, letting his arm wrap around your waist to pull you into him. His lips linger on your forehead.

“Cap let me leave an hour early. Said I was distracted all day. Overheard that I was a jackass to my girlfriend.”

Tilting your head up to look at him, you see that his face is etched with exhaustion. You’re not sure that he slept well last night.

“I didn’t mean it— to call you Dad and insinuate you tried to control my spending. I grew up with an unhealthy relationship with money, and I don’t like to be reminded that I don’t always make the best choices.”

“Hey.” He stops in the middle of the parking lot, pulling you to stand in front of him. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I really appreciate you and Chris’ thoughtfulness.”

A pair of headlights shines in your direction, so you resume the path towards your car, silence settling between you. 

Once you get to your car, you lean against the bumper to take some weight off of your feet. Eddie stands next to you. 

“I guess I’m not used to having someone take care of me. I’ve always been taking care of other people— my parents, Shannon, Chris. I forgot what it feels like, and I reacted negatively.”

You motion for him to get closer, standing up to cup his cheek. 

“I know, but you deserve it.” You purse your lips, running your tongue across the back of your teeth. “I’m sorry for storming off. That wasn’t any better than what you did. We’re both still learning, but as long as we’re in this together, we’ll make it work.”

He reaches down to lace your fingers together, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.  You rest your forehead on his, breathing in all that is Eddie. 

“Thank you for loving him— and me.”

“It’s not hard to love you both.” You peck his lips again. “Now can we go home? My feet are killing me.”

“Yeah, I remembered seeing your new shoes once I was halfway to work, or I would have brought them to you.”

“It’s okay. At least you thought of me.”

“I always do.” He stands up tall, helping you onto your feet. “Come on, lets get you food. Carla has Chris.”

“What are we going to eat?”

“You choose.” His fingers dig into your waist as you walk the short distance to his truck. “But... I'm going to have you for dessert.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, and you lightly shove him. 

It may not always be rainbows and butterflies—but this is real, and it’s yours. Love is rooted in growth and has its flaws. And as long as you have each other? That’s all that matters. 

[totallynotslothhh]

HOLD ME TIGHT PT.2

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,380

warning: angst, smut, fluff, spanking, crying, smoking, fwb

description: The relationship between Joost and y/n seems to be going well, seemingly about to evolve, but an event drastically shifts y/n’s perspective, starting to make everything crumble.

author’s note: Hi everyone, you have no idea how eager I was to publish the second part. I absolutely love writing heartbreaking and painful stuff, you’re going to have to suffer a little, BUT FEAR NOT, I’m already working on the third part, which I’ll try to release by the end of this week, or at the latest, the beginning of the next. Please be patient. While I was writing this fanfic, I had a vivid image of Joost in 2022, so I based everything on that version of him. However, since I kept the descriptions pretty broad, I think you’ll be able to imagine him from any early era in his career.

That said, I’ll leave you to the reading now, and I’ll see you soon (probably with some meltdowns).

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

——————————————————————

The first rainy days of September had started to appear: grey, cloudy days, with the humid air that still hinted at the summer heat, yet gently pushed you into the thought of the cold that was soon to come.

I inhaled from the cigarette filter, savoring the bitter but damnably familiar taste of smoke, staring out at the courtyard of my apartment and the street that stretched out from my bedroom window.

-You’ve been smoking more since you started seeing Joost.-

It had been two months since my first time with Joost.

Two months since the subject of my thoughts and worries had shifted. Two months since someone had come into my life who I didn’t yet know would become the most important person in it.

We had built a relationship of unstable balance. There was always a little piece of my day dedicated to us. Whether it was in the morning, afternoon, or evening, a quick text, a call, or a meeting, whether there was sex or not.

Sex was the major protagonist of our encounters and desires. It’s true, our friendship had become mostly physical, but there was always a margin of interest in each other. We shared a mutual affection that went beyond just the act.

It showed in the small things, things that seemed small but were actually huge.

For example, he remembered the brand of cigarettes I smoked, what foods I liked and disliked, he knew how to handle me when I was sad, knew what to do when I was nervous, could read me just from a glance.

I had become an open book. Even if I tried to pretend I didn’t care about him, I couldn’t pull it off: do heart-eyes come with every look?

-Your heart’s beating fast.-

Feeling that explosion of emotions terrified me: the thoughts that always drifted to him in my free moments, the desire to see him, that kind of anxious excitement before meeting up, the chills running over my skin the moment our eyes met. That wave of sensations scared me. I didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want to start something new, especially since the wound from my last love was still fresh.

No longer bleeding, but still open and fragile.

So fragile that a single touch could make it bleed again.

Joost was healing a wound he hadn’t caused. Without knowing it, he was soothing me with a beautifully calming rhythm, slowly making me trust him.

-Did you sleep more last night, or am I wrong?-

But it wasn’t time yet.

Would that time ever come? I didn’t know.

What I did know was that this relationship would end. Like everything else, even the good things come to an end.

Especially the good things.

The question was: would it end by evolving into something deeper, or would it break under the weight of our anxieties?

-Breathe. Relax. Enjoy the moment.-

I sighed, letting the smoke out through my nose. I rested my chin on my palm, holding the finished cigarette with the other hand.

That day, I felt particularly overwhelmed. I’d been working all morning, hadn’t carved out even a tiny bit of time for a break. Cigarettes were my “break,” if you could call it that: two minutes of filling my lungs with filth, paradoxically relaxing. Paradoxically warm.

I chuckled at the thought, glancing at my desk. It was messy and mirrored my state of being perfectly: scattered papers, small pencil sketches covering their surfaces alongside important notes, my laptop dying and about to shut off.

I took one last drag, then crushed the filter on the cold windowsill and finally closed the window.

Sniffling, I returned to my spot and checked my notifications.

No notifications.

-I want to be with Joost.-

I furrowed my brow and, without thinking twice, opened our chat, filled with quick messages but also silly or meaningful conversations. When we couldn’t see each other, any excuse was good enough to stay in touch.

Just a few minutes to make sure we weren’t letting go of each other. Holding on to that safe place.

“Wanna meet up later?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

Surprisingly, I got a reply immediately, before I even had time to put my phone down.

That was strange, considering Joost usually took forever to answer a message.

A carrier pigeon might’ve been faster at showing signs of life.

Sometimes I almost felt lucky to have him in my life. He was always busy with creative work, but still made the effort to give you attention.

“I was just about to text you and ask the same.”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

That message brought a shy, stupid, useless smile to my face. And as soon as I realized it, I shook my head, biting down on my lower lip.

-Was he thinking about me?-

“At your place?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

“Come over when you’re free.”

Sent today at 5:17 PM.

So, after reading that last message, I turned off my phone and stood up, stretching and mentally cursing the version of myself that had bought chairs as uncomfortable as they were beautiful.

Needless to say, I left work on hold, weighing the desire to see the guy who gave me orgasms worthy of divine classification, against the need to finish the work I had piled up.

A good worker would’ve chosen wisely.

At 9:00 PM, I was in his bed.

My exhaustion gone after yet another round of sex that served as a release from those heavy, endless days. The simple feeling of his lips on my body, his hands in my hair, his gaze on me, and his dick buried deep inside me while he praised me and told me how beautiful I looked naked. Well, it made me feel good.

My head rested peacefully on his chest, legs tangled in the white sheet and with his, while I lazily caressed his calf with the top of my foot. I felt his fingers softly travel across the warm skin of my back, his calm breathing rising and falling beneath the hand I’d placed on his chest, playing with the hair there, mimicking his movements.

The welcoming silence thundered in my ears. His heartbeat set the background to the thousand thoughts flowing gently through my mind. The feeling of truly being wanted cradled me.

It was those moments.

Those moments I lived with premature nostalgia, thinking of when we’d part, of how much I’d miss them when I’d be alone, of how stupid I was for starting something like this.

“What are you thinking about?” His deep, raspy voice, thick from silence and exhaustion, made me shrug, caught slightly off guard.

“Nothing” I answered in a whisper, letting my hand glide across his stomach and down his side, trying to cuddle closer. In response, he gently turned toward me, letting me curl into him even more.

“Liar, you’re too quiet” he said, wrapping me in his warm, pale arms, brushing a hand against my cheek, which was now tinged with a soft blush.

“Just tired” I whispered, almost not wanting to break the silence between us.

I looked up at him, seeing his eyes, now narrow slits, likely trying to focus on me. He looked so innocent with that little curious pout, without his glasses, and with messy hair.

“Hungry? Want to order something?” he offered, stroking my cheek with his thumb, keeping his gaze on me, at least as much as he could.

“Maybe later” I nodded, savoring the warmth his palm gave me as it cradled my face. Touch was definitely a language that went beyond words. It was an expression of love that reassured me I wasn’t making a mistake.

Physical closeness made me feel safe, made me feel wanted.

“I really want to kiss you” he murmured a moment later, making me smile as I felt the grip of his other hand tighten, more eager, on my bare waist. I looked at him and noticed the hint of sleep in his expression. It made me laugh, because I already knew where this would end: kissing sloppily, filling the room with wet sounds, soft moans, and giggles.

“How will you do that if you can’t see?” I raised my eyebrows, watching his confused frown fade as I reached toward the nightstand and grabbed his thick glasses. Both his hands slid to my hips, and I felt his lips lazily rest on my shoulder.

“I still don’t get how you manage to see anything” I shifted slightly, putting his glasses on him and holding his face to lift his gaze toward mine. His sleepy expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes were more focused now, filled with desire, mirrored in the way he gripped my warm, tingling skin.

This boy made me feel everything.

In seconds, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. We started kissing, our tongues dancing inside each other’s mouths. I felt his breath growing heavier, his grip dropping to my ass. I kept one hand on his face and the other resting gently on his chest. He bit my lower lip and pushed his hips involuntarily against my thigh, his half-hard length pressing against me. He squeezed one cheek and kept kissing me hungrily.

I moaned into his mouth and instinctively brought my other hand to his cheek too, caressing him with my thumbs and pulling myself closer.

I felt overwhelmed, and it was the most beautiful feeling, because I knew, no matter what, Joost would be there to handle it.

He pulled away for a second to look at me. To observe my flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, glossy lips parted just enough to breathe. He gently pushed me under him, letting his hands explore my waist again.

“I could kiss you without stopping” he murmured warmly against my cheek, making me smile and move my hands to his shoulders. He began kissing his way from my cheek to my lips, then down my body, leaving little bites that drew soft moans from my throat.

“I’m bringing you to my next concert” he whispered against the warm skin of my chest, looking up at me but never stopping his trail of kisses.

“What?” I giggled, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him up for a kiss. I hadn’t quite caught the meaning of that sentence, I was more focused on how wet he’d just made me again.

-Didn’t catch it, or didn’t want to?-

“You said you’d like to come. I got you a backstage pass” he repeated, kissing my lips again before nestling into my neck, not giving me time to fully process it. I paused, eyes widening, pulling away slightly to stop him from kissing and distracting me more.

“Really?” I whispered, laughing and halting my hands in his hair. He looked up and locked eyes with mine.

“Yeah, You told me once you’d like to be there.”

I had told him. Almost a month ago. And he had remembered.

He had remembered that tiny sentence buried in a much larger conversation about his budding music career.

“you remembered it..” I whispered, unable to hold back a smile, which brought one to his face too. I felt his hands grip my hips, and his face disappeared from my view as he buried it once again in my neck.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me” he said, sliding a hand between my legs, pressing his middle finger against my clit, then moving it between my already wet lips. I clenched around nothing, arching my back slightly and grabbing a fistful of his blond hair.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” That phrase made me shiver and moan, writhing under the continuous pressure at my throbbing center.

“Yes… don’t stop- keep.. keep going” I murmured with closed eyes as I felt his fingers slowly push inside me, deepening the sensation alongside the bites he placed on my skin.

“I can’t wait to take you backstage, to fuck you, to cover your mouth while I pull your hair” he murmured. That image only heightened everything, his fingers curling inside me, his thumb circling my clit. I bit my lower lip, my breath quickening as chills ran down my spine. The heat from his body, the sheets, and the pleasure itself was so comforting I could’ve melted right then and there.

I felt his hips press against my thigh, his growing hardness brushing against my skin.

“Please, Joost…” I whispered, opening my eyes and tugging gently on his hair to lift his face. He did so, increasing the rhythm of his fingers, eyes locked onto my expression, entirely lost in pleasure.

“Turn around” he instructed softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to my lips. I opened my mouth and welcomed them, tasting myself as I sucked them hungrily. His breathing grew heavier, his arousal harder against my leg, and his smile deepened as he pushed his fingers further into my mouth. I licked them thoroughly before releasing them.

“You’re beautiful. Always” he whispered as he slowly sat up, supporting himself on his knees to give me room to turn over. I rolled onto my stomach, tucking my shoulders in and arching my back deliberately, accentuating the curve of my hips.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you naked beneath me… you’re even more” he said, making me blush and bury my face into the pillow. His hands took hold of the soft skin of my backside, giving it light taps and gentle squeezes as he leaned forward, trailing kisses down my spine, focusing on the dimples just above my hips.

After a few moments, I sensed him move away to grab a condom left ready on the nightstand. I raised my hips slightly, feeling exposed. When he returned to the bed, he didn’t take long to land a sharp smack on my right cheek, making me gasp and moan into the pillow, the sound fading into the rhythm of our heavy breaths.

He slid into me, gripping my hips tightly with urgent hands, which soon after struck my skin again, reddening it. He plunged his full length in and began to move at a steady pace. That position was one of his favorites: I could tell by the way he groaned, the way he caressed my back, the way his voice faltered with each thrust. I was starting to understand those parts of him too.

“God.. I- fuck..” he moaned roughly, driving into me with force, pressing his chest to my back, panting against my ear, leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. One of his hands smacked me again before grabbing both cheeks, spreading them slightly, as if to remind me he was in control. The pleasure was overwhelming. My face was pressed into the softness of the pillow, one hand clutching the pillowcase, the other buried beneath it. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, layering more heat between our naked skin and the craving for a physical pleasure that somehow calmed the soul.

I tightened around him, moaning loudly as his fingers moved to my clit again, adding an electric edge to the sensation.

“Come for me, baby, come” he whispered through ragged breaths, keeping the same intense rhythm, his circles on my sensitive bud pushing me closer to the edge. His other hand found mine, intertwining our fingers, still gripping the pillowcase.

I felt my legs tense, breath caught in my throat, and the knot of orgasm unraveled, taking me over in seconds. I closed my eyes and let the wave crash over me, breathless, as Joost continued his movement until he followed, spilling into the condom, giving his last thrusts meaningless, still clutching my hand like it was the only anchor he had.

He covered me in kisses and caresses, the urgency of sex now wrapped in the softness of intimacy.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

That sentence echoed in my head for days. It was etched into my heart, engraved in my memory. He was taking me to one of his concerts because he had read between the lines of my words. He was taking me to his show, and all our friends would finally see the kind of bond that held us together.

We had done everything in secret without even meaning to. It wasn’t about hiding, we had just kept things private.

It wasn’t supposed to be more than sex.

Supposed to, because whether I liked it or not, I felt it that day.

Something romantic was growing. I was becoming more aware of the bond forming between us, strengthening with each passing day.

I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in his smile. I felt it every time we were together, heard it in the whispered words, in the how are you? he’d send me throughout the day.

The fear was slowly slipping away. I was starting to let go, to trust him more and more.

-You’re moving forward. Letting yourself be led by the depth of the passion that binds you… isn’t that what love is?-

And finally, the day of the concert arrived. A day that was meant to be the most beautiful of all, the fullest, the most emotional. I would finally see him perform, I’d see him on stage, full of life. I would be there for him.

A day that was meant to mark the beginning of something deeper.

But happiness crumbled all at once. Reality hit me in the face, suddenly. My eyes saw what they shouldn’t have seen, not during that time, not on that day, not in that moment.

Not in those fragile, delicate moments.

It was the morning of that fateful day, a quiet and strangely peaceful Saturday.

There was something in the air, tranquility tainted by the joy of being part of such an important event for Joost. I had decided to go for a walk, planning to stop by the supermarket and grab something quick for lunch with him. After that, we’d leave together. We’d go together. I’d be with him all day.

But everything changed when I found myself walking down the aisles of that supermarket, torn between which instant ramen to get, trying to remember the favorite of the guy with whom I had, more than once, shared that simple meal.

I turned my head slightly.

Maybe it was an involuntary movement.

Maybe deep down I knew I was about to ruin that day for myself.

Or maybe it was just pure coincidence that led me to do it.

But I saw him.

I saw my ex-boyfriend standing right there, next to me, mirroring my action, holding two different packs of ramen. Probably to share with his new girlfriend.

My shoulders tensed, and without realizing it, I tightened my grip. I stood there, staring at his body, leaning casually on his right leg, his face caught in some sort of indecisive thought… And just his presence, so coincidental, so close, froze me.

My knees started to tremble. I could feel my heart pumping faster, sending blood coursing through my body. My mind was completely fogged.

I was so disappointed, so angry, and so sad that I got swept away by the confusion that took over my thoughts.

And it all got worse when our eyes met, when I saw the surprised look on his face. And then, that smile.

That damn smile I used to be so in love with, so lost in…

And for a moment, I was almost afraid of it.

“Hi, y/n.” Hearing his voice again didn’t do me any good, not at all. It caused a painful tightness in the middle of my chest.

My breath caught in my throat.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He stepped closer, and I forced a weak smile.

“Hi” I answered coldly, shifting my gaze back to the ramen that had now taken on the role of distraction puppets, something, anything to keep my mind off his presence.

-Is your heart beating fast for him too?-

“It’s been a while since we, uh… saw each other” he continued, his tone almost regretful, dripping with guilt. In three years, I had never heard him sound like that.

“Yeah” I replied, lifting my gaze again, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw how he was looking at me.

“I never really got the chance to apologize… for how I ended things.”

-Why was he telling me this? Why now?-

“It’s fine. I guess our paths were just meant to part” I replied simply, feeling the tension in my shoulders release just a little.

But… he had made the effort to say sorry.

Maybe…

“How are you? You look good.”

He slipped into my thoughts just like he used to. I smiled at that memory, nodded slightly, and let out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“I’m good. And you?” It came out naturally, as if some part of me still wanted to know. And that scared me.

-You should hate him for how he treated you.-

We talked for maybe ten minutes. The most adrenaline-filled, fastest ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes that ruined my day, and the days that followed.

He said he’d like to see me again, to “talk things through, over a cup of tea.”

But would that really solve anything?

Was my racing heart just a reflex?

Or was I still caught up in him?

Did his presence matter as much as Joost’s?

-Did Joost matter as much as him?-

That question, that thought, those words, they haunted me the entire day. They made me distant, stuck in my head, detached from reality, drowning in guilt. Every time Joost reached for my hand, for my gaze, tried to read what was going on inside me. Every time he sought even the smallest touch, I felt myself sink deeper into the dark pit of guilt.

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk to me.

He wanted to ask what was wrong.

But he didn’t have the mental space for it, not on that day, not like that. His face showed worry, but I gave him no room to ask. If he had asked too much, my guilt would’ve broken me, I would’ve cried. And that would’ve made things worse.

That day was his.

And I ruined it.

I ruined everything because of my mood.

I was finally backstage with all our friends, Joost’s team, and Joost himself, who was getting ready for the concert. I held a plastic cup with something alcoholic in it. The atmosphere was buzzing: nervous energy, joy, laughter, light teasing.

It would’ve been warm, welcoming… if I weren’t drowning in this internal mess. I lifted my gaze and looked at Joost from afar. He was laughing with a mutual friend, probably at some joke they’d shared. I heard his laughter from across the room and my expression softened.

A wave of pain hit my stomach, only slightly dulled by the sparkling liquid I swallowed.

-Why am I acting like this?-

My eyes dropped to the dark floor. My thoughts were clouded with images of both men.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about my ex, but how could I not?

“You sure you’re okay?” Joost’s voice startled me, a mix of concern and warmth. I met his gaze and smiled, but he didn’t smile back.

This time, he saw through me.

He knew I was lying.

“Yeah, hey, don’t worry about me.” I said, placing a hand on his arm, squeezing his shoulder, trying to stay close.

“I know something’s off. You’re not having fun? You don’t feel comfortable?” He asked again, clearly worried but I detected a flicker of irritation in his tone.

I couldn’t tell him what had happened that morning.

Not then.

That would’ve been cruel.

“Joost, really- don’t worry… I’m fine” I insisted, brushing my lips gently against his cheek and giving his shoulder another caress. He forced a smile. Pretended to believe me.

But the tension between us was unbearable.

When he came back to me after the concert, he was buzzing with energy, his white tank top soaked in sweat, face flushed, hair tousled. He couldn’t wait to hold me.

I saw it in his excitement, the adrenaline coursing through him. Everyone congratulated him, but I stood aside… feeling like I didn’t belong in that explosive moment of joy.

And as he came toward me, all I could think was that I can’t handle this. His energy, his light, it’s too much for someone like me.

-I have to talk to my ex. I need to know what he wants to clarify.-

That thought, beating in my head since the morning, was shattered in one instant. Joost cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine.

Time froze.

I tasted his freshness, felt his heart beating against my lips, his breath caught in the branches of his lungs, his hands holding my face so close. I kissed him back. But the weight of the moment broke me.

Everyone had seen us. And instead of feeling enchanted… I felt horrified.

Terrified.

Tears welled in my eyes. I gripped his wrists and when I pulled away, I couldn’t even look at him.

It felt like I had betrayed him.

“Hey…” His soft, breathless voice wrapped around me like a thread. He gently moved, trying to lift my face toward his. The tears slipped down freely.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, overwhelmed by shame.

“Please, talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” His pleading made it painfully clear I was the problem. I was the one hurting this still-forming relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t even going to form at all.

I held back sobs, eyes shut tightly.

I felt so small in front of him.

“This morning, I saw him… and I don’t know if I’m ready to move on.”

I confessed. I didn’t even have the strength to look at him.

I had ruined everything.

Me and my insecurities had ruined it all.

And I didn’t want to ruin Joost.

That pure soul didn’t deserve it.

[folkwhoreberry]

I NEED MORE AGAINST THE ODDS PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

against the odds pt. 4

hamilton!oc x verstappen!reader

or... the one where you’re together, forever tied

word count : 1k

warning : mentions of teen pregnancy, young parents, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : mine by taylor swift

part 1 part 2 part 3

🦁🧡 X 🤙🏾💜

it had been a month since you and miles welcomed your daughter into the world, and parenthood was already teaching you both more than you could have imagined. the first few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions - late nights, early mornings, the exhaustion that came with caring for a newborn, and the overwhelming love you felt every time you held her in your arms. you and miles were young parents, and while neither of you had planned for this big change so soon, it felt as though everything had fallen into place perfectly.

your daughter, still so small and fragile, had already begun to shape your world in ways you hadn’t thought possible. it was strange, but every moment spent with her felt like time slowed down, even as everything else around you moved so fast. you were both learning on the fly, figuring out how to be parents together. miles was constantly there, always ready to help, whether it was holding the baby while you got some sleep or offering to change yet another diaper. it wasn’t always easy, but you both made it work.

miles had always been there for you - through everything - and now, more than ever, you could feel the strength of his commitment to you and your little family. watching him care for your daughter made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have him as her father.

life hadn’t stopped, though. while the two of you were adjusting to your new routine, there was still the outside world to contend with. the media had not forgotten about you, despite the few weeks of peace after the baby’s birth. they were still obsessed, trying to get the inside scoop on your family life. you tried to keep things as private as possible, but it wasn’t always easy. every time you stepped out in public, cameras seemed to follow, ready to catch any glimpse of you, miles, or your daughter. but you and miles made a conscious effort to keep her out of the spotlight. she was still so young and deserved to grow up without the constant pressure of being in the public eye.

the scrutiny didn’t stop there. you and miles had become somewhat of an unofficial “royalty” of the paddock in the eyes of the media - young, successful, and now parents. the constant buzz around your relationship had shifted to this new chapter, and headlines like the verstappen-hamilton family: the next generation started popping up everywhere. but despite the attention, you and miles were determined to keep your lives as normal as possible. the press could speculate all they wanted, but you weren’t going to let it interfere with your new life as a family.

for max and lewis, things had taken on a new dynamic as well. the two of them, once rivals, had both stepped into their roles as grandfathers with ease, something neither had expected. max, who had been a little apprehensive about becoming a grandfather so young, was already smitten with his granddaughter. you’d caught him on more than one occasion making goofy faces at her, trying to get her to smile, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

lewis had been no different. he was already offering unsolicited advice, his protective fatherly instincts kicking in, as though he were your second father rather than just a father-in-law. every time he saw you with your daughter, his face would light up, and his pride in you and miles was evident.

despite the joy, there were moments where the pressure of being young parents weighed on you both. the lack of sleep, the constant worry that you weren’t doing enough, the demands of balancing your family with everything else - it was a lot. but when you looked at miles, and when you held your daughter, all of it felt worth it. you had built something beautiful, even if it wasn’t perfect.

it was one of those moments, sitting in the quiet of your apartment, holding your daughter while miles made dinner, that you realized just how far the two of you had come. from the nervous excitement of finding out you were pregnant to now, as a family, things had changed in ways you couldn’t have imagined. your little family was growing, and though the world might have had its opinions, you had everything you needed right here.

that evening, after dinner, miles sat beside you on the couch, his arm draped over your shoulders. the baby was sleeping soundly in your arms, and for a brief moment, everything felt peaceful. miles leaned over and kissed your forehead, then looked at you with a soft smile.

“I was thinking,” he said, his voice quiet, as if unsure of how to begin.

“about what?” you asked, glancing up at him.

he took a deep breath before continuing. “about the future. and how much I want you in it. not just as my partner, but as my family. our family.”

you raised an eyebrow, feeling the weight of his words. “you’re already stuck with me,” you teased, brushing your hand over your daughter’s tiny head.

“I know,” miles replied with a smile. “but I want more than just being stuck with you. I want to make this official.”

before you could respond, miles reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. your heart skipped a beat as he opened it, revealing a simple yet beautiful ring. his eyes met yours, full of love and sincerity.

“will you marry me?” he asked, his voice full of emotion. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, building this family together.”

you blinked, taken aback for a moment. it wasn’t the most elaborate proposal, but it was perfect. it was everything you had ever wanted. you couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes as you looked at him, at the life you had built with him, and at the future you could see so clearly now.

“yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “yes, of course.”

miles smiled, relief washing over him as he slipped the ring onto your finger. you kissed him softly, your daughter nestled in your arms between you, and for the first time in a while, everything felt right. you were a family, and this was just the beginning.

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : fourth part woo!!! this is growing on me

[deadhands69]

In The Stacks Part 2: Taking Things Slow

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

A mysterious library patron catches your eye, seeking information about his past life. You help him, stirring up your own past in the process. Contains: gn/afab reader, SMUT, cussing, mentions of injuries/violence, obsessive/yandere leaning behavior, spoilers.

[previous] this is part 2 [next] [series masterlist]

"Actually, you said Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It's like a religion. It's terrifying."

- Richard Siken

Your brain swims, staring at the stack of new books on the desk in front of you. You started adding barcodes to them an hour ago but it feels like the pile is only growing. That can't be possible, right? 

Many of your coworkers had residual issues with the flooding from last night and had to call out. This includes your work friend, Ao. Half awake this morning, you offered to cover the first half of his shift for the four hours before yours starts. It's not that you aren't happy to fill in– you absolutely are. You're glad to help your friend out and you don’t mind the overtime money either. Unfortunately, it means you were in more of a rush than usual today, in addition to the extra work being divided up among those who could make it in, and you're really feeling it.

All of this would be easier if you didn’t have a headache.

Typically, you’d drop by the coffee shop next door on your walk over, but by the time you got the call, you were running late already and didn’t have time to stop. The lack of caffeine is getting to you, on top of the lack of sleep from choosing to stay up talking to Tenko half the night before the storm died down. You don’t regret that by any means either, it’s just catching up to you. Now you’ll have to wait for a long enough break before you can venture out for coffee. 

Two more hours.

You weren’t always a caffeine addict, but you are human so the things you surround yourself in tend to rub off after a while. If you’re going to work in a library, you might as well fully embrace the lifestyle. Even the surrounding neighborhood reflects this. Any way you choose to walk to work leads you past at least two coffee shops. Given your current situation, you will yourself to stop thinking about caffeine – it's not helping anything. Right now you need to focus on adding call numbers to the new books. You double check the one in front of you before sticking the tag on and sealing it. 

Only thirty-eight more to go. Meanwhile, you're still in charge of the circulation desk while everyone else is rushing around to fill other tasks that weren’t covered by the mostly absent morning shift. 

Tenko walks in with his hood and mask obscuring his face, like usual. Unlike usual, he’s here a few hours early. Today he’s also carrying something different. He turns and walks to the desk as soon as he notices you there. You take note of the interesting way he holds his pinky away from the cup, but he drops it onto the sleeve as soon as he catches you staring. He has nice hands, the kind that make you wish for things you’d rather not think about while at the front desk of your work.

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” he mumbles, “as a thank you.” 

“Wow, thank you so much.” You stare at the coffee cup he just pushed in your direction. You’re saved. “You have no idea how much I needed this today.”

“Uhm,” he scratches his neck, “I had to guess your drink though. So hopefully this is okay. It felt right.”

You glance down at the barista’s scrolled handwriting across the side, it’s what you usually order. 

“Impressive,” you smile at him, “you’re sweet and you can pick out my order by vibes alone.”

He smirks back, looking proud of himself. Since you go to the same place every day, they have your order memorized. You’re almost certain Tenko asked the barista; it’s nice he made the effort though so you don’t bring it up.

Tentatively, he continues. “I may also have a favor to ask you.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, really hoping it’s something he can say at the front desk in earshot of a few of your coworkers.

“I need another article from the archives. On the website it said to ask for assistance, so here I am.”

“Got it, yeah. I can set you up with an appointment for that.” 

“I need an appointment?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you pull up the schedule, “you need an appointment for someone to take you down there. I could, but it would have to be in a few days. Or you could go tomorrow with one of my coworkers?”

“No, I can wait.”

“Okay,” you continue, scrolling through the timeframes on your screen. “How about the day after tomorrow at eight pm? It’s completely empty at that time, so you won’t be interrupted. The archivists are typically gone by that hour though so if you need help with anything else–”

“No, that's perfect,” he smiles and you struggle to hold it together. Tenko glances at the desk and you, surrounded by new books. “What are you doing now?”

“Right now, I’m labeling new books while watching the circulation desk for the two hours I’m assigned to be here so other people can take breaks and work on different projects.”

“Got it,” he replies. “Is that what you usually do up here all day?”

“Not typically, but we're pretty short staffed from the weather. Usually, I check out books for people and answer questions,” you relay, as if you were reciting your resume.

Tenko looks around, the library’s pretty empty today. “And when there’s no one to check books out to?”

“Mostly scroll Tumblr,” you say. He raises his thin eyebrows at you, but it’s your turn to ask questions now. “What do you do all day? I’ve never asked what you do for a living.” 

“Freelance software developing,” Tenko replies, sounding bored. “I want to do games but that’s harder to get into. So for now, boring stuff.”

His random interest in books suddenly makes sense if he’s building video game worlds.

“What kind of games do you want to make?”

“I don’t have a set genre yet, I have a lot of ideas though. Like, ” his cheeks redden from behind the mask. You reach for his hand reassuringly. It's not like there's anyone around to see. “Uh, I'm working on a dating sim,” he says tentatively, scratching his neck with his free hand. Seeing the intrigue on your face, opens the floodgates. “It's kind of a fun concept,” he says excitedly, “because no matter what you pick you still end up together. There are different endings, and some are much better than the others, but there's no rejection.”

“So, I take it you don't like a challenge?” you joke. 

“I like a challenge,” his voice is light but his eyes look serious, “I just don’t like being left.”

“Okay. I won’t leave you,” you say, toying with his pinky, “promise.”

Tenko’s coffee gets you through the afternoon until your break. An extra long shift means a longer break than usual, you walk to the cafe down the block and back with time to spare. 

With the headache subsiding, you figure the least you can do is head up to the fourth floor to check in with Tenko and say thanks again. When you arrive, he's nowhere to be found. Even when he goes to search for another book, he leaves his backpack at the desk in the far corner. You search around the entire floor, not finding a trace of him. 

“Weird,” you mumble to yourself, taking a back exit to a less used stairwell. He must have gone home early or something. He showed up a few hours earlier than he usually does, that wouldn’t be too weird. Swinging around the last corner before hitting ground level, you run into someone. 

“I am so sorry,” you frantically apologize, looking up to see bright red eyes staring back at you. 

“It's fine,” he says, arms still steadying you from the collision. “Really. Are you in a rush or something?” he asks, looking you over as if you’re hiding books somewhere. 

“No, I'm actually on break–” 

“Good.”

Tenko bridges the tiny gap between the two of you, cutting you off with a kiss. The angle is different from before, given that you're standing one stair above him, but you both adjust quickly. 

Everything about your long day washes away, it doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping him as close as possible for as long as you can. 

One of his hands slides down to the small of your back, over your ass, and grips the back of your thigh to hike your leg over his hip. You continue kissing him, fingernails digging into his shoulders. The harder you latch onto him, the more into it he seems, enthusiastically sucking your bottom lip. Your tongue runs over the dry skin on his top lip and his hips slam into you in response. It's nice being able to tell what he's into this easily. You can feel him harden through his pants as he grinds into you. 

Everything about Tenko surrounds you. The smell of his shampoo, the sweetness of his lips. His hands grasping where they can, his teeth that are now pressed into your neck. Tenko sucks onto your skin like he wants to pull your soul into his. Fortunately for him, you’re into that. Kissing alone is not enough, you want him to need you so deeply that every fiber of his being seeks all of you out in desperation. 

He leans forward, lowering you with him until you feel the cold concrete against your back. 

Slowly, one of your hands makes its way across his chest and down his side. Giving you a bit more space than before, only slightly less desperate for the closeness. One of his hands slides to land on the small of your back as he hovers over you on the stairs. Your finger runs over the skin along his waistband. He shutters.

“This okay?” you breathe between sloppy kisses. 

“Yes,” he moans back, “do whatever you want to me.”

Hearing this makes you wish you weren’t in an old stairwell on your now dwindling break. Not every moment can be perfect though and you need him now. Your hand slides over the thick fabric of his pants. Running your fingers over where his dick fills the space in the v-line of his hip, straining against his jeans. You should probably be worried about doing this in a semi-public space during your lunch break, but the feeling never comes. No one ever comes back here. Besides, this is just the tip of the iceberg compared to what you’ve been dreaming about all day. You've held back for long enough.

Tenko breathes sharply into your mouth, hands clutching your jacket like you could slip out of his grasp at any moment. 

Then your phone buzzes, it’s the alarm you set to make it back in time to clock in from your break.

Two minutes remaining. 

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, “sorry, I–”

“Do you have to go?” he asks breathlessly. It takes everything in you to pull away from him. He helps you to your feet and the two of you take a moment to steady yourselves.

“Yeah,” you continue, “my break ends soon so I have to get back to shelf reading.” You do what you can to smooth his hair down but it’s a losing battle. As you step away, he adjusts his pants and pulls his oversized hoodie further down his front. 

“So, will I see you tomorrow?” he asks awkwardly, fiddling with the excess of the straps on his backpack.

“No, I have the day off tomorrow. I’ll be back in the next day though, and we have our archive time set-up then. So, I’ll definitely see you soon. And I'm just going upstairs now, like usual.” Tenko’s eyes stare at you like a puppy being left at home. 

Tomorrow, you have plans to go out furniture shopping. It’s not exciting, but it’ll be nice to finally have somewhere comfortable to sit. Especially if you have Tenko over again. This doesn’t seem like something you invite your new…whatever he is with you for. It’s only been a day, you don’t want to scare him off asking him to buy furniture with you. 

“Okay,” he says in that light tone with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’ll see you soon then.” With a quick kiss on the cheek, he walks past you, running back up the stairs. 

Rushing around the corner, your hand barely grazes the metal door pull to enter the main library area when another pair of hands yank you back.

“Oh no,” Ao says, looking slightly windswept from the weather. “You can not go in there looking like that.”

He pulls his scarf off, wrapping it around your neck before fixing your hair. 

“Why,” you grumble, but don't put up a fight. “Do I look that bad today?”

He laughs. “Bad? No, you look like you fucked someone in the back stairs." Realization creeps over his face, "wait, did you?” Ao’s eyes are huge before he turns and runs to look up the stairwell. Lucky for you, Tenko is long gone. Your secret is safe for another day.

“Tell me everything,” Ao whispers, pulling you through the door towards the front desk as you both clock in. 

At Ao's suggestion, you take a moment to stop by the restroom to freshen up before getting back to work. Last night, Tenko’s enthusiastic kissing didn't leave any lasting marks. No such luck this time. You wrap Ao’s scarf back around your neck, happy to have run into him before your manager saw you. Fortunately, his grey and black stripes don't completely clash with your outfit so you think you can pull it off.

A few minutes later, you resume shelf reading on the fourth floor like usual. Tenko glares at you as you walk past the corner desk where he sits. The first time you think it's in your head. When he does it again as you pass twenty minutes later, you know it's not. Is he upset you're not working tomorrow? 

“What?" you pause, leaning over the desk. "Why are you looking at me like that?” 

He stares up at you, arms crossed. “Why are you wearing some other guy's clothes?”

“Because you left a huge bite mark on my neck, I couldn't go back to work like that! I could get fired if they found out.”

Somehow, your explanation doesn't quite sink in. He still stares at you, pouting. Then it hits you.

“Wait, are you jealous of my gay work friend?” you ask. 

Tenko’s shoulders sag in relief, but he's not admitting it that easily. “No, I just–”

“You totally are!” you yell whisper back at him. “Tenko, there's nothing to worry about. He just didn't want me to lose my job or something. There's no one else you need to worry about either, I promise. I do have to get back to work though.”

Tenko smirks, looking pleased with himself as you turn to leave. 

Like you'd ever do anything to fuck this up. 

Your day off passes uneventfully to any passerby. You mop your apartment. You drink coffee. You go to the furniture store. 

That's how you find yourself standing in a large showroom, surrounded by couches in designs you couldn’t have imagined existing, asking yourself which one of them represents you best in the way you want Tenko to see you. No longer are they simple pieces of metal and wood with batting and fabric wrapped over, absolutely not. Someone designed everything down to the tiniest detail, and it's in those details that you'll find the perfect shape to hold him in. The stitching that flows in the most fitting way for you to spend your lives on them. Each one comes with a story of the future, pre-built in. And you need to pick the right one. This was never just about a couch.

A deep green one with long cushions looks wide enough for the two of you to cuddle easily on it. You picture yourself holding him, arms wrapped over his curled up body as he drifts off to sleep. 

It's also much too big for your apartment. 

There's a smaller pink one near it that also looks like you could both lay comfortably on it. The moment you sit, all fantasies disappear as the cushions give too much and you feel the boards underneath. 

Feeling like Goldilocks, you move to another. A velvety beige chaise lounge. You sit, finding it comfortable. It’s lower than the others. You picture him walking towards you, pausing as he reaches the living room. Your mind runs away from you with every direction this could take. You’d be at the right height to suck his dick from here, visions of it take over reality. He felt amazing through his pants and made such sweet sounds, you’re sure having him in your mouth would be even better.

Before you get too carried away, you check the price tag – it’s nearly three times your budget. Onto the next.

You spend an hour wandering the furniture store, imagining the way your life will play out on every stop. As the day passes by, you swear Tenko is sneaking out of your subconscious and into the world. You see him everywhere, but when you look closer he's never actually there. Behind bookshelves and around corners out of the corner of your eye. One man carrying a massive twisting lamp with delicate shades made from deep blue glass looked like him at first glance. It's a beautiful lamp but there's no way Tenko would ever buy something like that. Besides, there has to be more than one man in this city with white hair who wears facial masks and hooded sweatshirts. The obvious explanation is that you thought you felt him here, probably because you want him here. 

Maybe you've been thinking about this for too long. 

You wonder what Tenko would pick. He seems practical – he didn't even notice how under-furnished your space was. So, he'd probably be happy with something simple. 

In the end, you land on a cozy grey couch with washable upholstery, functional and you can decorate around it. It won't be delivered for another week, but that's fine. You haven't had a couch in months, you can wait just a little longer.

The tiny pieces of your new life are finally coming together. 

When you arrive at work, Ao laughs at your attempt to cover the remnants of Tenko’s mark with a high necked sweater. You don't mind him leaving them, some part of you actually felt a bit proud of it on your day off. It's like you get to show him off to the world even when you're apart. Sure you got a few weird looks, but that's to be expected. However, Tenko is still a secret at your work to everyone but Ao for obvious reasons. 

“That outfit is too warm for here, heavy sweater up to your chin with those oversized pants?” 

“It's cold outside,” you assert, the older librarians passing by still suspect nothing. 

Ao laughs, “suit yourself,” before whispering, “most people just buy concealer.”

He's not wrong, unfortunately, and within the hour you're regretting your choices. By the time eight rolls around, you're practically dragging Tenko down the stairs to the archive area, happy to be in the consistently cold basement. 

“This is the room?” he asks as you swipe your key card to enter an unmarked door. 

“Yeah,” you explain, turning the lights on and walking in. The librarians have all gone home for the day, it's just you two. “I was told there used to be a sign, they just never replaced it. Most people don’t come down here. They just ask for copies of the articles, so it's not a priority to label the door.”

The space reflects that sentiment as well. Given that the archive is one of the least patron-facing areas, funding never quite makes it here for new tables and chairs. These are just the old ones that were moved in to replace the last old ones. The shelves are older too, minimalistic. Covered in old books and boxes, they stretch on seemingly forever with the lights only partially on. The old book smell you’re growing used to is stronger down here, more condensed.

“Do you know the dates of the articles you're looking for?” you ask. He hands you a small list. 

You track them down in the far corner of the expansive room, pulling out a few more pages on the Shimuras and the house from before. He doesn’t read any of them, instead he takes out his phone to snap a few flash-less photos before returning the articles to their boxes. 

“Is there a record of what people look at in here?” Tenko asks curiously. 

“No,” you yawn, “as long as someone is in here to make sure they're being handled carefully, no one really cares. They know who came in and when, that's it.”

“Oh,” his voice almost sounds disappointed. 

“Why,” you ask, “do you want someone to keep track of what you looked at for you?”

“No,” he mumbles, folding the last newspaper and placing it in its box. “It just seems like there would be a record since someone could damage them or something.”

“I'm not too worried,” you put the boxes back on their shelves then take a seat on a scuffed up, but solid, table. 

“What are you doing now?” he asks, standing in front of you. 

“Killing time. I'm scheduled to do this for the whole hour and it's colder down here.” You gesture at your huge sweater before sliding the neck down to show him the lingering bite mark you're covering. 

“Sorry,” Tenko mouths. 

“It's fine. It doesn't hurt or anything,” you say, taking the sweater off. “I don't mind it either, I just don't want work people asking too many questions.”

Tenko stares at you, barely registering what you’re saying. In that moment you realize he's never seen you in a tank top. You're always dressed conservatively here. Plus, it's barely spring so it's still been pretty cold out.

Most guys would feel some level of shame being caught staring like like he is, Tenko isn't most guys though. 

His hand grazes the skin of your neck. Slowly, his knuckles move down your shoulder and over your arm, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. 

“Looks pretty on you,” he says, “I look pretty on you.”

“You do,” you agree.

“Are there cameras in here?” he asks, hands already pulling at the hem of your shirt.

“No. According to my manager, it’s a budget or a privacy thing. Something like that. They’re just in the main common areas.”

“Good,” he mumbles against your lips, hand sliding up your shirt.

You slide back on the table, pulling him down with you. Tenko follows, eagerly, mouth not moving from yours.

Your hands slide under his shirt, taking in the feeling of him. His skin is textured with scars, every bump sliding easily under your touch. You want to rip all of his clothes off and memorize every detail of his body, but you don't have all night and you're in the basement of a library so you'll take what you can get for now. 

Some tiny corner of your mind remembers the two of you decided to take things slow, but you don't have the will to pull yourself away. 

The two of you pull at each other’s clothes as you make out, desperately feeling what you can. His hoodie lays thrown over the back of a chair along with your sweater. Your tank top is shoved up to your neck, pants dangling by one leg. His ripped jeans are shoved down to his knees, along with his underwear. One arm is pulled out of his shirt. You press up to straddle him, the table is cold and hard against your knees. It doesn’t bother you though, nothing could distract you from him right now. 

Tenko grabs your hips, dragging each of his fingers deliberately over your skin. You watch his cock practically jump at your touch; it’s so fucking beautiful. 

Everything about him is beautiful. His pale flushed skin. The way his white hair is splayed out over the table. Perfect scars everywhere to match the ones on his face. 

Precum glistens at the tip of his dick, you rub it away with your thumb as you begin stroking him. Even his erection is blushing for you. You want to stare at him forever, taking it all in. Unfortunately, your time here is limited. Leaning back over him to resume kissing, you continue to stroke his length as he pants into your mouth. One of his hands slides between your legs, moving your underwear to the side.

Tenko gasps at how wet you are for him, fingers exploring and lightly dipping into you as you drip down his hand.

“Fuck, y/n. I need to be in you,” he begs, “please.”

His big red eyes stare up at you, looking deep into your soul. It’s dangerous, you think, because you’ll never be able to say no to him when that’s all he has to do. 

Not that you’d ever want to.

With one more stroke, you line his dick up to your entrance. His hand joins yours, rubbing your wetness over him as he teases you with his tip. It doesn’t last long, he needs this as much as you do.

Looking into his eyes, you lower onto him slowly. The stretch is a lot, which you expected. It’s been a while, you didn’t have a lot of time for foreplay, and he’s not exactly small. Still, you’ll take every bit of the feeling if it’s him. Tenko breathes in sharply, fingers digging into your ribs. Neither of you look away.

“We still have to be quiet though,” you whisper, pausing as you reach his base. “Anyone could walk past the door and it echoes in here with the high ceilings.”

He nods.

Your movements start small then increase. It doesn’t take long for the ache to fade and he starts to feel good.  

Really good.

Your pace quickens, back arching to press into him as deep as you can. You've waited forever for this and you need as much of him as you can take. He moves to match your tempo, meeting you in the middle.

Tenko grips the front of your shirt, yanking you closer with every thrust. The sound of you both reverberates from every wall.

“Just like that, Ten. You feel so good,” you murmur. 

You weren’t sure what to expect your first time with him, but you’ve had thoughts. You’ve been dreaming of this for so long, playing out every way it could possibly go. Somehow, this is even better than you ever imagined. 

He never struck you as the type to have a lot of experience, but then again he’s read books on everything to make up for it.

Tenko fucks you like he needs it. Hips pressing into you with force, pace slightly off when he’s too worked up. Still, so much of what he’s doing is deliberate. The way he adjusts the angle with your moans. How his hand rests on the top of your thigh, thumb reaching over to massage your clit as he pounds into you harder.

It’s all overwhelming. His touch, the soft smell of him all around you. This is finally happening and you still can’t believe it. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knees giving as you fall into his chest. Tenko catches you, holding you close to him. Waves of pleasure surge through you, leaving you breathless. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, teeth latching onto the soft skin at the bottom of his neck.

“Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna cum,” Tenko groans.

“Please cum for me,” you reply, needing everything he can give you. His hips slam into you as he holds you as close as possible. For a moment you forget where you are, the entire world outside of this room disappears. 

“Fuck,” laughs Tenko as you come to rest on his shoulder, “I can’t believe we did that.” 

The two of you pull most of your clothes back on, with him noting that you’re twins now after you bit his neck. You know you should go and get cleaned up but he’s so cuddly and you need a few more minutes close to him.

“Well,” you muse, “so much for taking it slow.”

“Can’t help it,” Tenko mumbles, drawing circles with his fingers in the area where your shirt dips below your collarbone. “I just feel like we've been together for so much longer.”

Your heart skips a beat at the way he casually refers to the two of you as “together.” You're about to ask what that means to him when he continues. 

“So, uh, I've been trying to ask for a month now, but didn't find the right time. I guess better late than never though. Can I take you out for coffee or something?”

“Yeah,” you answer a little too quickly, he doesn't mind. “When are you free?”

“Tomorrow at noon?”

“Perfect.”

The two of you lay in silence for the few minutes you have left here, happy. With his leg wrapped over you and arms pulling you closer as well, the oversized table is a reasonable enough space to cuddle. 

You have no doubts the couch you chose will be even more perfect for this.

[next] [series masterlist] [bnha masterlist]

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme 

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills 

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

 @lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim @kitkat13001 @kennys-partner

@amira-44820 @its-evee16 @itsameyermaw

[bootsukki]

AITA for "stealing" photo booth pictures from my girlfriend?

warnings:a bit suggestive but nothing nsfw, god i love tsukki

aita series masterlist

So, my girlfriend (20F) and I (20M) have this tradition of taking photo booth pictures whenever we stumble upon one. She has always had a lot of pictures of friends, memories and ourselves at her house and her apartment. She’s got this cute and goofy collection of pictures of us taken over the years and they are pretty much everywhere in the apartment, the fridge, her bedroom and even her vanity. I am not that fan of pictures but I can’t say no to her whenever we walk past one.

Recently, we took a new set of pictures at an arcade while we were out with friends and I pocketed them without telling her, which lead to a scavenger hunt around the apartment when she couldn’t find them and she got pretty bummed out about it. 

The thing is, that her disappointment has lasted a few days and the other day, thinking she lost them after telling her I didn't have them, she insisted we go back to the arcade and take another set of pictures. 

So, AITA for "stealing" our photo booth pictures and making my girlfriend think they were lost?

“Look! (Y/N) jumped up and down, pushing her boyfriend, Tsukishima, towards the empty photo booth at the arcade. They have been out with Yamaguchi and Yachi for a few hours before stumbling about the arcade, Yamaguchi insisting on playing some games and possibly winning a plushie for Yachi. “We need to take pictures. It’s our tradition”

Their tradition started early in their relationship, just a few months into it. The Karasuno volleyball team had been at Nationals, some people from their city and school driving the day of the matches to cheer on them. (Y/N), alongside other friends and including Akiteru, Tsukishima’s brother, rented some small rooms in a nearby inn to see all the matches. After one rough one, (Y/N) insisted on going for a walk, taking Tsukishima with her to ease his nerves and she soon found a photo booth right in the middle of the street, meant for ID pictures and she, puppy eyes, insisted on taking just a picture with him. The rest was history.

“Isn’t your apartment already full of pictures of us?”

“There will never be enough pictures of us, especially since these are the only ones I have convinced you to take.” 

Tsukishima didn’t really like photos. He enjoyed taking pictures of (Y/N) doing mundane things, trying on new clothes but when it came the time to be in one of the pictures himself, he didn’t enjoy it one bit. But, he couldn’t say no to his pretty girlfriend as she looked up at him, glossy lips and bright eyes.

“Yachi!” (Y/N) shouted, gaining the attention of their other two friends. “We are going to take a set of pictures, it’ll take just a second.”

“Okay!”

(Y/N) softly holds Tsukishima’s hand as she walks quickly towards the photo booth and she looks at her boyfriend, excitement written all over her face.

Tsukishima knew that (Y/N) loved photo booths and anything that had to do with photos. Her old high-school bedroom was filled with pictures of her and her friends, including some of Tsukishima when they weren’t even dating but her obsession grew especially after she moved into her college apartment with Yachi. There wasn’t an outing were Yachi wouldn't take her old camera and snapped photos of everyone. Tuskishima would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed sleeping in her apartment because her bedroom was so… her. Trinkets, jewerelly and pictures were all around and he still clearly remembers his favourite picture of her, which, surprisingly, he took, where she was carrying a big stack of books while working a shift at the bookstore of their university, smile bright and rosy cheeks. That photo belonged to him and it sat prettily on a frame on his nightstand. Almost all their pictures sat in her vanity, the fridge and someplaces in her bedroom while others were hidden away in a box under her bed but (Y/N) stood up and told Tsukishima that there was, in her exact words, no way in hell that she would store their photobooth pictures away.

As they step inside, Tsukishima’s head nearly bumping onto the ceiling of the small machinery, (Y/N) closed the curtains, letting him sit down first.

Tsukishima patted his lap and (Y/N) sat down quickly, putting some cash into the machine. “Okay, five seconds, think of poses we can do.”

(Y/N) grinned widely as she waited for the flash to go and Tsukishima leaned his head on her shoulder, looking into the camera. In the second photo, (Y/N) stucked her tongue out and Tsukishima just smiled. Their third shot is more tender as they gaze into each other, their expressions softening into a moment of shared affection and intimacy. 

Finally, the final five seconds start and Tsukishima’s grabs (Y/N)’s back of her neck, pulling her close to him, lips brushing against each other as they kissed. Tsukishima groans lowly as he deepened the kiss and (Y/N) pressed herself closer to him, arms going around his neck. 

The photo booth plays some music as they pull away from each other, signalling that their photos were ready for pick up and (Y/N) blushes.

“I love you, baby.”

Tsukishima says, pecking her lips again, biting her lower lip for just a second and she gaps, standing up from his lap and getting out of the photo booth as Tsukishima picks up the pictures and looks at them, smiling as he hides them in his pocket.

*****

Baby: cutie

Baby: have you seen the pictures we took at the arcade the other day??

Baby: i can’t find them anywhere

Baby: i got so flustered i may have forgotten them

Baby: did you take them??

Tsukki <3: oh

Tsukki <3: flustered you say? I know you were flustered that night

Baby: don’t make fun of me rn

Tsukki <3: but no, sorry baby, i thought you had taken them

Baby: ugh, i can’t believe it :( i couldn’t even look at them

“It’s going to be 767 yen, sir.” 

Tsukishima locked his phone for a second, taking out his wallet from the back pockets of his trousers and opened his wallet, the set of pictures taken sitting right at the front and he softly smiled, taking out some notes to pay for his sandwich. 

“Keep the change.”

*****

“We should go back to the arcade”

“What?” Tsukishima sat down next to (Y/N) on the couch, leaving a bowl of popcorn on top of the table.

“We should go back and take pictures.”

“Baby, it’s just a set of pictures. We’ll take a lot more.”

“But I’m sure they were super cute!” (Y/N) placed her head on Tsukishima’s shoulder, putting the blanket on top of them. “You distracted me.”

“Did I?” Tsukishima smirked and (Y/N) playfully smacked his arm. “It’ll be alright, baby.”

“Hmm…” (Y/N) pouted, closing her eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe I just need some good sushi to forget about it.”

“Ohhhhh.” Tsukishima laughed softly. “Okay, I’ll invite you.”

“Yay!” (Y/N) pecked his lips, standing up to get his phone and wallet from the counter, opening the food delivery app and typing her favourite sushi restaurant as she also opened his wallet to take his card. “What do you want? I think i’ll get so… Hey!”

“What?”

“You little liar, Tsukishima Kei!" (Y/N) walked back to the couch, shoving Tsukishima’s wallet up his face. “You had them!”

Tsukishima blushed, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at the pictures. “Oops.”

“You thief! I thought they were lost.” (Y/N) laughed “I was worried.”

“Sorry.”

(Y/N) closed his wallet and sat on top of him, hugging him tightly. “You are sneaky, aren’t you?” 

“Are you mad?”

“No, of course not. The fact that you have them in your wallet is so cute…” (Y/N) kissed his cheeks, lips and neck, a soft moan leaving Tsukishima’s lips as she moved her lips alongside his jaw  “I know you are mushy and a romantic on the inside and that makes me really happy…”

“Shut up…”

“Should I start hiding things so you do cute things for me, pretty?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Tsukishima picked her up from the sofa, laughter filling their living room as he walked towards his bedroom. “Forget about the sushi.”

*****

User 1.

INFO: What did you do with the pictures? Did you take them for something special?

(OP) tsuk113_: I had the photos in my wallet because they were really nice and I actually love them. She ended up finding the photos one night after she picked up my wallet to pay for dinner but she wasn't mad, just teased me about being a little thief and a liar for telling her I didn't have them lol. I really, really love this girl.

User 2.

NTA! Ugh, i'm glad I read this after your update. You were being cute, and she was just worried about losing something she loved. In the end, I think you both win—you’ve got the photos, and she gets the sweet gesture of you taking them in your wallet. Just maybe tell her next time, I'm sure she made a mess in the apartment, lol.

[manias-wordcount]

HEAR ME OUT!!!! Wriothesley from Genshin with an S/O that gets easily depressed from the lack of sunlight in the fortress.

Honestly from there, go crazy! At this point, after seeing the MASTERPIECE you made from my previous Maruki request, I trust you with all my boys💖

-🧃anon (if you don't have one already) (if you do I'll think of a new one next time I make an ask)

Mourning Sun (Wriothesley x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗻 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗴𝗼𝗱, 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮 𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It’s nearly mid-afternoon when he returns to your shared bedroom. And you’re in the exact position he left you in early, early this morning. It makes him frown.

  He’s due for a meeting relatively soon. And there are a few things he needs to take care of before the afternoon shifts are completed, so he has to be quick about this visit. Still, that doesn’t stop him from taking near-silent and utterly slow steps as he crosses the room to see you, a cup of your favorite flavor of freshly brewed tea in his hand. You’re still curled up in a ball, blankets tucked all around you except for your uncovered head. Your eyes are closed gently, and your breathing is steady and even as you doze quietly. You’re as beautiful as you’ve always been, but this sight always makes him worry. He wonders if you've woken up at all since he last saw you.

  A quick glance at the bedside table where your brunch lies, cold and untouched, tells him exactly everything he needs to know.

  “Sweetheart,” Wriothesley murmurs as he places a hand on your shoulder to shake you awake. You make a small sound. Something so sweet and sleepy it makes his heart soften. But he knows better than to let you carry on like this. So he tries again, shaking your shoulder a little more forcefully and speaking to you a bit louder than before. “Sweetheart, it’s time for you to get up, alright?”

  “Mmm,” You make a non-committal sound underneath your breath, but at the very least, he spots you starting to stretch your legs and uncurl yourself from beneath the blankets. Though he can’t help but notice the slight shiver in your body as you start to straighten out. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, he realized. Every time he leaves the bed, really. Is the bedroom too cold for you? Should he invest in another heater? More blankets? It’s going to become winter soon, and even the Fortress of Meropide manages to feel the seasons as the nights grow longer and the wind blows harder. He’ll have to work out something soon to address this problem. For your sake. “W-Wriothesley?”

  At the sound of your voice, the man in question is broken out of his thoughts. He turns his attention back to you in enough time to see you struggling to sit up in the bed. Your hair is a bit of a mess, and you still look exhausted despite getting well over the typical eight hours of sleep necessary for most people to survive. He tries not to let his worried expression show, and for the most part, it doesn’t. Though he’s not confident you’d even be able to understand the emotion behind his eyes given the way you’re too busy rubbing at yours and blinking them slowly as you struggle to adjust to the dimming light in the room. 

  Still, he holds back his sighs and his frowns whenever he’s met with this familiar sight. Because above all else, he just doesn’t want you to think that it’s your fault. And it isn’t. If there’s anyone to blame it’s him. It has to be him.

  For loving you too much to let you go.

  “Hi sweetheart,” He greets you again, a small encouraging smile on his face. He takes a seat on the side of the bed and almost instantly, you’re scooting a little closer to the edge to be near him. Once you’re settled, your body leans into his a little bit. There’s a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and plenty covering your lower body as you sit up in the bed. But he can feel your body mend into his through the fabric as he transfers the cup of tea into your hands. You light up slightly at the sight, and there’s a small smile on your face now as well. It’s no longer steaming in the mug, but you still lightly blow at the liquid on the very top so as to not accidentally burn your tongue. But it doesn’t take too long for you to place the mug to your lips and to tilt your head. You must have been so thirsty. Wriothesley should have come to visit you sooner. “You should eat something, too. It’s already the afternoon.”

  You don’t respond for a little bit, too busy sipping down at your tea with greedy little gulps. So Wriothesley takes the time to look at you. Really look at you. Not a passing glance he gives you when he’s seeking a quick little serotonin boost throughout his day. Not one of those long looks of admiration that he gives you when all he can see is the beauty and perfection of your form. But a look at the true, true version of you as it appears in front of him. And it takes him only mere seconds to spot just how sickly you seem. 

  Your skin doesn’t have the same shine to it that it used to. There are bags under your eyes despite all the sleep you do whenever he’s not around to entertain you. You’re well-fed here- Wriothesley makes sure all the meals you receive are to your liking- but there’s still a weak and fragile look about you. Should he call Sigewinne to come in for a check-in again? The thought has crossed his mind more than once after he noticed just how much you’ve been sleeping and losing interest in all the new books he brings down for you. But deep down inside, he knows the reason you’re like this. He knows it all too well.

  You haven’t taken well to life in the Fortress of Meropide. 

  If he’s being honest with himself, you belong on the surface. You belong where you can receive as much sunlight and warmth and bright colors whenever you want. But he fell in love on one rare day when had to attend to matters outside the Fortress. He just saw you from afar and with one small look, he fell for you. And you fell for him too. But he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his role as the Administrator of the Fortress to live a life so foreign to him after spending years and years beneath the surface. It felt like all he had ever known since his arrival. But you were willing to make that sacrifice. You were willing to stay in the Fortress of Meropide and live a life by his side. Even though he wasn’t willing to do the same.

  “Thank you for the tea!” You tell him as you pull the cup back from your lips. Your voice is cheery, and there’s a smile on your face- one that’s bright and big and happy. But you still look so tired. So ready to curl up and go back to sleep the second he leaves. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised. He knows, he knows, he knows. But part of him just hopes that if he wished the problem away enough, you’d be okay. That you wouldn’t have to struggle like this if could just snap his fingers and make a little magic happen. But the other part of him? The more sensible, logical, sympathetic side of him? The side that would do absolutely anything to keep you by his side? “And I meant to eat sooner. But I just got really sleepy all of a sudden, and wanted to take a quick nap before-”

  “I’ll take you outside soon.”

  That part of him knows exactly what he has to do to make things right.

  When he speaks the words into existence, you instantly freeze. A long silence follows as you’re both unsure of what to do. Of what to say. You’ve never asked about leaving the Fortress before. And he knows you want to. He knows you need to at this point. And not sure for an hour or two. You need a couple of days at least outdoors. Enjoying the sun. Breathing in the fresh air. Existing in a world that isn’t covered head to toe with metal walls and pipes. 

  But you never asked. You just didn’t. And you won’t. You never request anything other than a couple of letters to your family and friends on the surface being delivered here or there. You know Wriothesley is a busy man. One who can’t just drop everything for a little vacation because he’s feeling down or wants a break. But this is completely different. Because he wouldn’t do this for himself. 

  But he would absolutely do it for you.

  “I’ll take you outside soon.” He repeats himself, a little more quietly this time. His eyes are gazing forward and bearing into your own. He moves his hand and places it on your blanket thigh and squeezes it gently. He owes you the whole world. Because that’s exactly what you are to him- his world. “I promise.”

  But he needs to start taking better care of it. He needs to start taking better care of you.

  Because your depression is obvious, even if you try to hide it. He’s known it this entire time, but it’s been hard to admit it when he knows that this decline in your overall well-being wouldn’t exist without his selfishness. He doesn’t know much about the you who existed outside of his swift courtship. But he always noticed the decline in your health and personality and presence. From the first few weeks of your arrival to now, you’re a different person. Less energy. A little quieter. No longer interested in the things you used to like. A little more melancholy. A little less you. 

  You’re still the person he fell in love with. But you’re also the person he failed to protect. The person he failed to provide for. Because when you said you would go with him, he promised that he’d make you happy. He promised that he’d make the Fortress your home. Someplace where you could thrive. But will that ever happen? Will he ever succeed? He doesn’t know. It’s his first time taking a sunflower away from the sun. There’s more he knows he has to do. But at the very least…

  “Okay, Wriothesley…I’d like that, please.”

    …he can start with this. 

[archangeldyke-all]

this with blue collar butch!Sevika 🥹👁️👁️

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNAM4RrN/

this is too fucking cute i know i've already done like two stories about this exact same thing but idc it's SO SWEET

men and minors dni

most mornings, you wake up alone.

sevika's shifts start in the early morning, whereas yours start at a more reasonable hour. she usually sneaks out of bed and the house hours before you even begin to stir.

and then, usually when you do wake up, you're in a mad dash to leave the house on time.

this morning though, you woke up about an hour before your alarm's was meant to go off.

you groan and flop on your side, trying for a few minutes to go back to sleep, only to give up five minutes later and smack the bedside table for your phone.

you read the news, catch up on emails.

you've only got one new text-- the same text that greets you most mornings: 'good morning love. left breakfast in the fridge for you. thinking pizza for dinner tonight? xoxo 💐💍 -s'

you smile big and bright like you do every morning, then jump out of bed to the kitchen, excited to see what sevika's made for breakfast and give her your compliments over text.

only, as you run into the kitchen, your eyes catch on sevika's lunch pail and her travel coffee mug resting on the counter.

you realize now why your body so stubbornly refused to go back to bed for an hour: some subconscious part of you must've known sevika would need your rescue this morning. (sevika swears that since you've been married you've developed some kind of couple-telepathy-- both of you are always supernaturally aware of the state the other is in, without having to even see each other.)

you decide to surprise her, dressing and eating quickly, withholding your usual lovey-dovey texts to her in exchange for the real life smooches you'll soon be pressing on your wife's cheek.

you love seeing sevika at work. she looks so fucking handsome in her uniform, her co-workers adore you, and the brilliant, surprised smile you pull out of her when you drop in to check on her always gives you butterflies.

you slip in through the front door, waving at thieram where he's talking on the phone behind the front desk. he grins, gestures to the break room, and winks at you.

it looks like they're in their morning meeting, silco and vander standing at the front of the room and reading off clipboards while sevika, ran and the rest of the boys fidget in their seats.

when you peek your head in, all the heads swivel to the back of the room to gawk at you. laughter and greetings erupt, and sevika's face breaks into that glorious shy smile of hers as she leaps out of her chair and runs over to you.

"baby, what're you doin' here?" sevika asks, pulling you in for a kiss before you can respond. you giggle against her lips, then reveal her lunch and coffee to her.

"you forgot somethin'. think our weird psychic link woke me up to make sure i could get you your food before work." you tease. sevika blinks down at her lunch pail and coffee cup like you've just handed her keys to a new car. you giggle, and kiss her cheek. "breakfast was delicious by the way."

"i love you so fuckin' much." sevika whispers, blinking back up at you. you smile, and sevika shoots forward, kissing you passionately in the doorframe.

her co-workers burst into cat-calls and laughter, and silco clears his throat from the front of the room.

sevika pulls away with a bright red blush, but she doesn't take her eyes off of you as she walks backwards back toward her seat. she bumps into lock. he shoves her away, and she stumbles a bit, giggling but still staring at you as she flops back into her chair.

you blow her a kiss, wink, and let the door close.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh

[what-if-i-just-did]

Chapter 2: New Beginnings

Bit of a short chapter, but I didn't have a lot of time and I really wanted to get this done today. Yay!

Fern soon realised that a three-hour car ride with a massive, sentient, humanoid bird could end up being… so, so awkward.

“So. Uh”, they tried to start.

Emphasis on tried, because Fern noticed the way Quill tensed up any time they spoke. Maybe silence was better.

…

Silence was not better. With the way that Fern had had to fold down the car seats, Quill was directly in their line of sight any time they looked into the rearview mirror. And he was… distracting. This probably counted as a road hazard.

The light reflected off of Quill’s feathers beautifully, revealing tints and shades of even more extraordinary colours. 

Every time Fern looked over- which was more often than not, because he was really distracting- they felt the awkwardness in the air. Quill seemed…

Scared.

“Hey, um. Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m sorry?” Quill said, startled.

“Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?”

It was surprising how twenty-odd minutes of awkward glances made Fern see the bird as, well, human. For a lack of a better word.

“I, uh. I sit pretty. Like a good bird.”

Okay, a bit weird. If Quill really was as human as Fern was starting to see, then obviously being kept as a pet couldn’t have been good for their mental health. This kind of felt like.. there might be more to it, though. 

Pushing that thought aside for now, Fern put on a smile.

“Okay.. what about other things? Hobbies?”

Quill stared at them.

Or, well, they thought he did. They were trying to keep their eyes on the road, so they couldn’t be sure. 

…

Getting out of the car seemed to be just as nerve wracking as getting into it had been for Quill, but he didn’t ask for help or reassurance, and Fern was more than happy to let him figure it out on his own.

They walked up the narrow stairs behind Quill, silently watching him struggle not to drag his wings along the walls. They would have tried to help, but… well.

For one, they wouldn’t know how. And secondly, Fern was busy thinking of how this was gonna work. They did not, in fact, have a spare bedroom. 

Alas, they were also too tired to think about it. They didn’t really have a sofa, either. They could share and figure it out in the morning.

Fern was exhausted. They’d taken the early shift at work, but it was still 2pm when they finally left. Three hours’ drive each way, plus collecting weird bird stuff, and Fern was just about ready to get undressed and fall asleep. Hopefully they wouldn’t wake up with a mouthful of feathers or something.

“Welcome to my humble abode”, they joked, opening the door with a flourish and a bow. “I’m just about ready to fall the fuck asleep, so… Right, uh, I don’t really have anywhere for you to sleep. Do you mind sharing my bed for the night? We can figure it out in the morning.”

Quill’s eyes slightly widened. “You would let me share your bed?”

“Yeah?  Unless you don’t wanna.”

“No!” Quill seemed to flinch at his own sudden outburst, “Sorry, I- I mean, no. Please, let me- I, I would be very grateful to share your bed.”

He looked at the floor, adding softly, “It’s been.. a while, since I’ve slept on a bed.”

These concerning comments seemed to be coming every time Quill spoke, but Fern was too tired to address it right then and there. It could wait for tomorrow.

“Okay… I’m going to take a quick shower. Feel free to look around, make yourself at home or something. We can go to bed in like half an hour, yeah? Does that.. work for you?”

They were actively suppressing a yawn, and not quite managing.

Quill nodded, shortly. 

Fern smiled. “Great. See ya in a sec, roomie.”

TAGLIST

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question 

@whumpsday 

@melpomenelamusa

[tiedyeflannels]

Did We Forget...

OT7 x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Angst

A/N: Heyyyy... I'm finally back from the dead! Turns out being busy and having writers block is definitely not a fun combo, but I wanted to finish this since I started it last year on my birthday. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and happy new years!!

Masterlist

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” Your parents exclaimed.

It probably wasn’t too late over in the States where they were right now, but it was really early in the morning in Korea and they claimed that they needed to call you ‘as soon as possible’.

You sleepily smiled at them, “Thanks, you guys! But… you do know that it’s 5 am over here right? I don’t have to get up until later and now you guys woke me up.”

“Well, why did you pick up then,” your dad teased.

You deadpanned, “Because mom ingrained it in me that I can’t not pick up a call from you guys, or she would have my head.”

Mom shook her head, “I never said that.”

“It’s implied, Mom!” You chuckled when she let out a frustrated huff. 

“Anyway, thank you for the birthday wishes! I’m coming home for New Year’s, don’t forget! We can do something then, okay?”

They nodded.

“Yep, we’ve got your room ready and we’ll be picking you up from the airport. All you have to do is let us know where you are,” Mom said.

You hummed in agreement.

“Oh! Are you going to spend the day with the boys? Are they going to take you somewhere special,” Dad asked.

You laughed, “Yeah, I plan on spending the day with them seeing as I don’t have any work to do until I come back from my trip, but I don’t think they have a special event planned.”

“Okay well, don’t party too hard with them! Have fun, be safe and we’ll see you when you visit.”

You fondly smiled, “You got it! Love you guys!”

“Love you,” they said in unison before waving goodbye, then hanging up. 

You sighed as you locked your phone and let it drop on the bed before shifting in bed trying to get comfortable so you could go back to sleep.

~

KNOCK! KNOCK!

You scrunched your face at the sound of light knocking and groaned as you stretched before pulling the blanket over your shoulders and rolled over on your side, trying to go back to sleep.

You didn’t get very far until another round of soft knocking woke you up once more before the door slowly creaked open.

“Y/n,” Jungkook whispered. You sleepily hummed, peeking an eye open to look at him.

“Jin told me to let you know that breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, I’ll be down there in a sec,” you croaked out.

He nodded and closed the door, leaving you to wake up on your own, so you stretched once again to get rid of the sleep from your body before reaching up to grab your glasses off of the nightstand. You sat up, moved the blanket off of you and placed your feet on the floor. With a yawn and one final stretch, you stood up and made your way to the bathroom. 

Once you were done, you started down towards the kitchen and upon reaching the bottom of the steps, there was a delicious smell wafting through the air. You walked over to the kitchen to see Jin hovering over the stove before picking the pan up and plating its contents. You took a seat at the island as Jin turned around and placed a plate of (y/f/f) in front of you.

“Tada! Breakfast is served,” Jin said, taking a towel off of the oven handle, wiping his hands clean.

You looked down at the food and then at Jin, smiling. “Ooh~ my favorite! What’s the occasion?”

He shrugged as you took a bite of food, melting at the familiar taste. “I figured since you haven’t gotten to eat it in a while and all of us really like it so… I would go ahead and make it!”

You stopped for a second.

Just because? Did he-

You lightly shook your head at the thought.

You tried again, “So, that’s the only reason? Nothing special?”

He shook his head as he looked at you. “Nope, why? Should there be another reason to make this?”

You shook your head, breathing out a laugh before giving him a smile.

“Nope! Thank you for the food, Jin,” you said, before going back to eating.

You finished the food a while after Jin had left the kitchen. You thought it was interesting that he didn’t seem remember your birthday considering that he was excited for it a few weeks back.

Maybe he’ll ‘remember�� later, you thought as you washed the dish and put it on the rack to dry. 

When you were done with that, you looked over to the living room to find Jimin, Hobi, Tae, and Yoongi sitting on the couches scrolling through their phones. You walked up to where Hobi and Jimin were sitting and placed your hands on the back of the couch resulting in a soft pat sound.

Hobi lifted his head. “Oh hey, Y/n,” he said with a smile.

You looked at him and saw that he was dressed up; still casual, but better than sweats, so you looked around the room at each of them and saw that they were dressed the same, fancy but still casual.

“Are you guys going out,” you asked, hinting that they had at least put some thought into what they were wearing instead of the sweats you had gotten used to over that past few days.

Jimin breathed out a chuckle and shook his head, “Nah. We’ve just got practice in bit.”

“Oh yeah! That reminds me,” you turned over to Namjoon, who was adjusting his coat as he made his way over to where you and the guys were, “We’ll have practice until 5 and we have a company meeting and dinner after that, so we won’t be home until late, okay?”

Oh.

You plastered a smile on your face and nodded as Jin and Jungkook came into the room, prompting the others to get up from where they were sitting.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You guys go… be great or whatever you do,” you force a laugh, giving Jungkook a light nudge on his arm, hoping to hide your slight disappointment. 

Might’ve worked too well as they laughed and started heading out.

“We’ll see you when we get back,” Yoongi turned to me.

You nodded, “Okay. Have fun! Be safe! Work hard!”

You waved good-bye to them as you watched them file into the black SUVs and drive away from the house. You sadly sighed at the thought that they forgot but decided to make the most of it while you still felt like it. So, you went back upstairs, got ready, shrugged on a jacket and went out to who-knows-where. 

~

Turns out that spending a day by yourself on your birthday was get a little tiring after a while. You sighed as you plopped down on a random park bench, letting the shopping bags fall on the ground next to your legs. Though it was late December, there wasn’t any snow on the ground due to the weather being weirdly warm, which just created slush and puddles.

You rolled up the sleeve of jacket and stared down at the watch as its hands ticked just passed 5 o’clock.

“They should be done with practice now,” you quietly muttered and dug into the coat pocket, pulling out your phone and checking if the members texted.

I wonder if they remembered yet?

Looking through the notifications, none of their names showed up, giving you your answer.

You sadly nodded as disappointment started to seep in before putting your phone back into its hiding place and grabbing the bags as you stood up and started to walk back home. As you drew closer to home, you stopped by the convenience store and picked up a slice of cake and a box of candles, hoping that maybe the members would remember before the day was over so you could celebrate together.

Once home, you set all the bags in your room then remembered the slice you had bought and quietly made your way to the kitchen to put the cake in the fridge, then plopped down on the couch and put on a movie as you waited for the boys to come home. Slowly, your eyelids started to feel heavy and as you tried your best to stay awake, the tiring day finally got to you as you let your eyes close.

You didn’t start to stir until the sound of shuffling made its way to your ears. Opening one eye to peak around at what was happening, you saw the members filing into the house one by one. You sat up immediately and rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you looked at the time on your phone.

11:45. 

“How was your day, you guys,” you yawned out the question, getting up from the couch and stretching.

“Tiring,” Jin said as he walked passed you towards his room.

“Yeah, we’ll probably just head to bed,” Hobi said with a tired smile.

You sent back a small but warm smile and nodded in understanding,

“Yeah, of course. Good night.” 

There was some tired muttering of ‘good night’s from the others as they passed by and a small nod from Yoongi as they quietly made their ways to their respective rooms, turning off the kitchen light therefore leaving you to stand in the dark alone. You looked at the time on your phone and knew that they weren’t going to come out anymore. 

So… they didn’t remember after all?

You walked over to the fridge and pulled out the slice of cake, carrying it to the counter and setting it down before opening a drawer and taking out a candle and lighter.

Sticking the candle in the center of the cake, you took the lighter and lit it. You stared at the tiny flame, putting my hands together as you made a wish before quickly blowing out the candle and placing it back in the fridge while the clock struck midnight.

~

“Are you sure you have everything,” Yoongi asked as Jungkook handed you the carry-on bag and backpack.

You nodded, “Yep! I should be all set.”

You looked around the group before your eyes settled on Taehyung.

“I’m sorry that I won’t be able to make it to your birthday dinner tonight,” you sadly smiled.

He waved you off, “Don’t worry about it! You can’t exactly control flight times and I know you are dying to see your family. Oh, and thank you for the gift.” 

You took a few steps towards him and pulled him into a hug to which he happily reciprocated.

“Of course! And there’s also a slice of cake I bought in the fridge for you, if you want,” you said, pulling away from the hug in order to say bye to the rest of them, seeing as you won’t be back until the New Year. 

“I should get going,” you said, taking the luggage in your hand as you started to slowly back away from the group.

“I’ll be back in a week! Happy New Years, you guys!”

“Be safe!” “Take care, Y/n/n!” “Bye!” The members waved as they watched you turn around and walk toward your gate.

There was this feeling that Jimin had that he couldn’t seem to shake as he watch you disappear into the crowd of people.

“Guys… I feel like we’re forgetting something.”

“What do you mean? Y/n said she had everything,” Taehyung commented as he placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. 

The latter shook his head, “No. I think we’re forgetting something.”

The members looked around as if trying to retrace their steps. “We dropped off Y/n. Later, we’re going to dinner for Tae’s birthday,” Namjoon listed off as something seemed to collectively click in their brains.

“Did we forget,” Jungkook started.

“Y/n’s birthday,” Hobi finished the thought, and everyone’s eyes widened in realization.

Oh no…

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

on the flipside what about fuckgirl reader that falls for steve? maybe billy and eddie are after her too? 🫣😳🙈

Request by anon. (I hope you like this anon, I haven't written anything like before so it's a little bit soft and sweet)

mdni.

❤️

Steve is fast asleep beside you. It's early morning and you should be tired but you've been having trouble relaxing, ever since you had that small epiphany last night.

You liked Steve. You really liked Steve. This was just meant to be incredible sex and then the two of you would move on. Maybe you'd date Billy or that cutie Eddie Munson. Your fling with Steve was meant to be no strings, just like the rest of your relationships.

There was something about Steve that made you soft and eager for more of him. You wanted to know everything there was about Steve, you wanted to wake up every morning and find him beside you and fall asleep beside him every night.

This feeling was dangerous, you had never felt it before but Steve's sweetness, his kind and loving nature had brought down all of your walls. You had fallen deeply for him.

Steve moans as he wakes up, when he catches you staring and a warm blush coats his cheeks and he pulls you close to him so you're flush against his chest. You would never get tired of this feeling.

"Hey beautiful, you aren't leaving are you? It's cold out and I'll miss my sweet girl. I'll be lonely in this bed by myself" you giggle and press a kiss to his lips.

"I have a shift soon but I don't have to leave yet" you're perfectly happy to cuddle into his chest and stay here all day if you could.

Work comes calling eventually and when you leave a sleeping Steve it's like your heart is aching at the very thought. This was ridiculous. You'd see him tonight.

But it didn't stop you missing him as soon as you left.

❤️

Billy hasn't left you alone since you started your shift at the local library, he's been bugging you for the last half hour and normally you'd flirt back with him.

But now? Now the thought of flirting with Billy turned your stomach. Steve's handsome face would flash through your mind and you ignored Billy.

All you could think about was Steve. Did he even feel the same way? This was new territory for you and it was terrifying, how could you open up about your feelings when you were scared that Steve would reject you.

"Come on babe. Let's have some fun" Billy smirks and you shake your head as you return some books to their original place.

"No, I think you should leave me alone Billy" you snap and he backs off, holding his hands up.

"What's up with you? Don't tell me you're actually faking for a pretty boy like Harrington?" He snorts and the disdain in his voice irritated you.

"So what if I am? He's amazing so you can go to hell with that stupid attitude of yours" Billy holds up his hands looking stunned.

"Whatever. I'm out of here" he storms out and your brief a sigh of relief. That relief is short lived as you realise that the feelings you have for Steve are stronger than you thought.

Maybe you really did need to tell Steve how you felt?

❤️

It's late when you head back to Steve's, you had been plucking up the courage to talk to him all day and had avoided seeing him until you knew what to say.

The perfectly planned speech you had came up with disappears as soon as you see Steve. He's poring over lessons for his kindergarten class, trying to think up fun things to do that were also educational.

He had been working as a teacher for two years now and you knew it brought him a lot of joy.

You also knew that he was serious about having a whole brood of his own and for the first time you imagine having a child of your own with Steve.

Instead of scaring you, like thoughts of the future usually did, the very idea filled you with so much longing.

Instead of your carefully thought out planning about what you're going to say to Steve, you merely take a deep breath and settle on his lap.

His arms around you felt like coming home and you knew without a doubt you wanted this for the rest of your life. "Give me two minutes babe then I'm all yours" he assured you but the next words out of your mouth had his complete attention.

"I love you Steve. It's crazy because I've never been in love until now and I understand if you don't feel the same but I just needed to say it"

The look of shock on Steve's features melts away to a blissful smile.

Steve softens. "I'm crazy about you honey, I love you too and I know this is all new for you but we'll take it slow, we're a team and we'll do things together" he strokes your cheek and the elation you feel is incredible.

Together. You liked the sound of that.

[jessthebaker]

Dieter Does Christmas

For @futuraa-free, Merry Christmas from your Dieter Brainrot Secret Santa with the @dieterbravobrainrotclub!

Many thanks to my lovely betas, @toomanytookas, @bitchwitch1981, @march-flowerr, and to @almostfoxglove for her support with graphics (because I need my hand held when learning new apps). Biggest thank you @sp00kymulderr for setting this all up and being generally wonderful.

Read on AO3

___

Dieter x gn!reader, Reader is not described in any way.

a/n: Dieter is taking his Christmas holidays at home with you, his supportive long-time partner. You spend the day together and take in the Christmassy atmosphere. That’s it, that’s the fluff.

Rating: 18+ for brief mentions of sex and being naughty with Christmas decorations, a hint of alcohol (if you squint) and mentions of past drug use. But really just fluff. It’s all fluff. Dieter is his own warning.

Word count: 3.7k

You wake up early on Saturday. Dieter lays next to you, snoring lightly. It's too soon for him to be awake, but for you, it's normal. Your work schedule requires you to get up by 6am, and Dieter is....well, he doesn't wake up a minute sooner than his call time requires. A morning person he is not. Unfortunately for you, you are so used to being awake by dawn that it's practically impossible to sleep later.

It's been too many days since your work schedules allowed you to sleep in together, and you relish the chance to spend the morning waking up at your own pace. His mouth hangs open slightly as he sleeps deeply, his breath coming out in rhythmic puffs on your face. His morning breath is god-awful, thanks to the super-spiked eggnog you had both indulged in last night. At his suggestion. You don't mind the bad breath though if it means you can be here with him this morning. "For better or for worse", wasn't that how the saying goes?

(Not that you were married, of course. You had both experienced too much pain in past relationships to really ever consider taking that step again. But that didn't mean you weren’t just as devoted to each other, rings or no rings.)

You scan the rest of him, for once having the opportunity to look closely at him without his mischievous grin and self-deprecating jokes pushing your attention away. You love his face. His scruffy beard is growing back in now, after being allowed a hiatus from shaving for two weeks. His soft, full mustache flutters a little as he breathes. His wild hair sticks completely up on one side while matted down flat on the other as his head is pressed into the pillow. You always did like his bedhead. His strong nose makes you smile fondly. His eyes zip back and forth behind his closed eyelids as he dreams. His brow furrows briefly with some emotion, then smooths again as he calms. One of his arms is tucked under his head, elbow crooked. The other arm subconsciously reaches out for you.

Your thoughts turn to the day ahead. You’re already expecting a slow start, with at least two coffees required before Dieter can even think about moving on with the day. You have it all planned out: Go to the nearby shopping center and start scoping out the Christmas decorations. Check out the Christmas market that went up the other day. See if that temporary ice-skating rink has been installed yet. Definitely make sure to stop by your favorite cafe on the way home for some Christmassy treats.

You watch Dee slowly wake up, his eyes gradually blinking open and coming to focus on you. You feel a small smile grow as you brush a stray curl out of his eyes and behind his ear. “Morning, love. Sleep well?”

“Mmmf,” he groans as he shifts and stretches in bed. “I was having a good dream...something about radar devices installed in...chickens? And they were laying shiny rainbowy eggs because the radiation made their eggy organs go haywire.” He stretches again and his eyes brighten. “Now I’m craving eggs! Can you make scrambled eggs? You always make them the best!”

You smile. “Sure, I can do that. Come on, let’s get cleaned up first. Your breath smells like sour eggs, speaking of which...”

He grimaces and closes his eyes again. “Fuuuuck, don’t remind me, that ‘nog was amazing. But if we’d had any more of it last night I wouldn’t have been responsible for the way my ass behaves today.”

After a second he re-opens his eyes and wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “Food time. You coming or what?”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re both in the kitchen trying to stay out of each other’s way as Dieter prepares coffee and you make scrambled eggs and toast. We really aren’t used to being together in the mornings anymore, you think to yourself.

You can’t wait until his current project is done filming, because you know he has a couple of months’ downtime before the next one is slated to begin. You’re looking forward to spending some real time together, not just two weeks over the holidays that always fly by too quickly.

Once food and coffee are ready, you sit together to eat. You spread avocado on your toast while Dieter has his with butter and rainbow sprinkles. This is his favorite way to eat toast, after having been introduced to it by an Australian co-star a few years ago. (“Fairy bread, she called it! Guarantee she’s never actually met a fairy in real life. I want to meet a fairy one day. Where do you think we could go to find fairies? Angeles National Forest has lots of good trees, I bet we could find some fairies around there.”)

Somehow, someway, some time later, you manage to get yourselves out of the house and on the way to your favorite shopping center. As you pull into a space in the busy parking lot, you glance over and can’t help but smile at the look of delight on Dieter’s face. There’s a lot happening, even from out here. There’s a coffee van set up off to one side of the front doors and people are standing around it waiting for their caffeine boost. There’s a small pop-up market with half a dozen stalls lined up on the other side of the doors, their tables groaning with wares to tempt holiday shoppers. You aim yourselves over to these on your way into the shopping center.

You know this will probably take some time because Dieter loves checking out everything. He just has to touch things, picking them up to examine the details more closely. He likes to shake ornaments that look like they might be rattly, and sniffs the ones he thinks might smell pretty. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he had been a raccoon in a previous life.

One stall looks devoted to old-fashioned statues of Santa and Mrs Claus that look hand-carved, while the stall next to it is selling miniature village scenes that look like they’re from the North Pole. Next to them is a stall with a man sitting amongst a display of beanies, mittens, gloves, and scarves. He’s knitting while animatedly chatting to the vendor on his other side selling baubles, so you presume all of his wares are handmade as well. On the end furthest from the coffee van is a stall set up with a large pot steaming with the delicious fragrance of mulled cider. Their neighbour is selling hot cinnamon donuts made fresh to order. You and Dieter walk slowly along, looking at everything and admiring the talent of the artisans. You make a mental note to come back tomorrow and indulge in the cider & donuts – you have other plans in mind for today already.

As you walk into the front doors of the centre, you see a large gilded throne set up against a tall red backdrop in the main foyer, fenced off by a short white picket fence adorned with sparkly red and green garlands. You can see a few staff members dressed as elves getting set up for the Santa photos, slated to open soon. You know Dieter will want to get his photo taken with Santa. You hope Santa is up for the challenge of fitting a grown man on his lap. Last year’s Santa photo didn’t go so smoothly, and you’re sure that at least a few elves regretted coming to work that day.

Once past Santa’s throne, your first stop is the department store with what looks like half the store devoted to Christmas decorations. You start in the aisle of Christmas trees; from full-sized to medium to short, with the miniature glass trees displayed separately on a waist-high shelf. You see the glint in his eyes as he notices one in particular and lifts it up and hefts it, as if testing its weight.

“No Dee, you can't put that up your ass," you forestall his suggestion with a mock roll of your eyes.

He whines a little and pouts, "Are you sure? We should probably get one to try out, just to be sure...." but relents and puts it back where he found it. He doesn’t lose the glint in his eye, though.

The next aisle over is brimming with ornaments of all shapes, colours and sizes. Dieter can't stop looking at them, most of all at the round baubles shimmering with glitter. You can see the sparkles reflected in his eyes, and he looks like a child again, going wide-eyed with the wonder of the season. He looks over at you with a soft grin and reaches for your hand. You share a smile as you interlock fingers and take in the dazzling display in front of you.

The sudden screech of a child having a tantrum a few aisles away reaches your ears. It breaks the contemplative mood and so you move on to the next aisle. This one is full of nutcrackers in quite a few different styles.

There are the traditional ones with the bright red soldier’s uniform, tall black hat, and long white beard. You spot one you haven’t seen before, wearing a dark green uniform, a very short dark beard, and a shock of white hair in its dark brown hair. Unusually, it seems to be missing an arm. You wonder what happened there.

Another nutcracker has fluffy hair, a patchy dark beard streaked with silver and is wearing a khaki jacket and a backpack instead of a cape. It’s also sporting a rifle instead of a traditional sword.

One nutcracker catches your eye that is a bit taller and broader than its fellows, with longer hair and a greying, scruffy beard. It is wearing what looks like a Roman soldier’s uniform, white with gold decorative trim and a beautiful white cape.

Dieter’s entire face lights up as he realises what he’s seeing. He marches down the aisle and pulls up the cape or backpack of every nutcracker to open their mouths. Then he stands back with his arms crossed and ponders the scene with a serious look on his face.

"You know, they really should have a bowl of nuts around here somewhere so you can test the jaw strength. Oh! Do you think i could - "

"NO, Dee, you cannot try the nutcrackers out on yourself!" You can’t help but giggle at the look of innocent outrage on his face.

“I wasn’t thinking about MY nuts, just...you know, nuts! What if we get a bag of pecans or something and like, scatter them around the nutcrackers so people can test them out?” He questions with an earnest look.

You do think about this for a moment; it’s not the weirdest idea he’s ever had. “Honestly, I don’t think they would go for it, love. Can you imagine the clean-up? Pecan bits everywhere? The staff would hate it and you’d probably be banned.”

His face falls a little, but he accepts the refusal gracefully. “Yeah, you might be right about that.” He turns and sees something else that catches his eye: a display of angel decorations swinging softly overhead in the breeze from the store fans.

“Babe, look, angels! I had a vision about them while I was high that one time, remember me telling you about it? We were flying through the sky, and swooping, and dropping sparkles on people on the earth below. We were the wish angels! We were making so many people happy! Do you think real angels do that?"

He grabs your hands and spins you around in an excited little dance, causing you to lose your balance and stumble into his broad chest. You laugh and clutch onto the lapels of his coat so you don’t fall to the ground and take him with you.

The last thing you want today is to draw attention to yourselves by creating a disaster in the angel aisle. You want Dieter all to yourself today, without other shoppers finding a reason to pay attention to him as “Dieter Bravo, the nutjob movie star”. You are having the loveliest day together so far in your own little bubble, and you don’t want anything to mar that.

Thankfully you both soon manage to get your giggles under control and hold each other up. There will be no falling or crashing today. You straighten each other’s jackets and, still grinning, continue on your way.

Neither of you are in the mood to make any purchases today; you’re just happy to have the time to hang out together. So you nod politely to the staff member greeting people at the door, and head out to the outdoor pedestrian mall on the other side of the shopping center. Sure enough, the ice-skating rink has been set up. You see a few family groups waiting at the gate with tickets in hand, skates slung over their shoulders by the laces.

You and Dieter look at each other but make no moves toward joining the line. You consider yourself fairly fit, you love running and swimming, but your athleticism has not translated over to skating. Dieter prefers to sit out and observe anyway. One of his favourite activities is coming up with stories about the people he sees, and “making” them follow his narration. You love to witness his imagination working.

You both take a seat on the benches outside the fenced area and get ready to spend some time people-watching. Dieter’s eyes are gleaming and his mouth has that sly smirk, and you know he’s working up some mischievous scenarios for his unwitting puppets across the way.

“Look at those two over there, you see the man with his lady having coffees? They’re planning to go for a cruise this year because they’ve never been before, but he’s just found out he’s inherited a billion dollars from a distant aunt. So he’s gonna buy the whole cruise line company and buy out everyone’s ticket so they can have the whole boat to themselves. Bezos, eat your heart out.”

“These kids skating in a clump are pretty good, but they’re not Olympics-good…except the little one falling behind, see her? She’s been secretly practicing with a coach and she’s just about to whip out a quadruple lux with a double flip-thingy at the end. The big ones won’t even know what hit ‘em.”

“That guy over there walking his dog, look at him! He was thinking about getting another dog for Christmas but he knows the first dog would hate it, so he’s going to get an iguana instead. The dog will be freaked out at first but she’ll learn to love the iguana and let it ride on her back like a little cowboy. Then he’s gonna get a smaller lizard and train it to ride on the iguana’s back, so he can take them all on America’s Got Talent. It’ll be the Three Perros.”

You just listen and laugh along with his stories while enjoying being out and about in the fresh air.

After resting for a little while longer, you realise you’re feeling the chill. It’s not really cold out; Los Angeles doesn’t get that cold even in winter. Even so, the day is brisk and you’ve been sitting long enough to cool down from your earlier walk. You both decide it’s time to reinforce your people-watching with some sustenance so you stroll across the mall to the cafe that you both love. Dieter goes to choose a table while you place your order at the counter.

You don’t have to wait long for the server to bring your drinks over: hot chocolate with a candy cane for you, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows for him.

As they set your drinks down in front of you, you thank them politely and pretend not to notice as Dieter pulls out a hip flask and surreptitiously pours a generous splash of a clear amber liquid to his drink. You can see perfectly well, of course, but you don't rat him out. He's had so few treats lately with the gruelling pace of the movie he's currently filming. The cast only got the bare minimum of two weeks off for the holidays, so he’s determined to make the most of his time relaxing with you. If the man wants a boozy hot chocolate, who are you to argue?

You take a sip of your hot chocolate and twirl your candy cane at Dieter in mock sword-fight. He grabs it and pops it into his mouth to give a long suck, making a loud “pshhlooooo” sucking noise and pulling a wide-eyed lewd face. You can’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as he gives your candy cane back at you, smirking, “what? I didn’t do anything!”

Dieter lets out a contented sigh as he takes a long drink of his own hot chocolate and swallows. He graciously gives you one of his extra marshmallows before it gets too melty. You giggle before reaching over to rub at a bit of the sticky white fluff floating in his mustache. You pop your sugary finger into your own mouth and copy his silly noise as you suck it clean. You don’t miss the quiet groan and slight frown he makes at the sight of your cheeks hollowing with the suck, and your finger exiting your mouth sans marshmallow.

“None of that, Dee, we’re in public. Having a nice, G-rated, Christmassy, G-rated day...in public.”

“Babe, you really know how to tease, you know that? This-” he gestures towards his lap, “is going to cause a scene if I get up and walk around now. You’re gonna have to go up and get us more food or something while this goes away.”

You happily oblige, returning shortly with two plates from the pastry case. “I got us some nutella crepes and a raspberry danish just in case, which one d’you want first?”

He makes grabby hands for the crepes and you laugh and playfully pull them in towards yourself with a grin.

“Aw, if you wanted the crepes yourself, why’d you give me a choice? You know I’ll give you whatever you want,” he pouts slightly. He acts affronted, but you know he’s not upset.

You cut off a piece of rolled-up crepe and stab it with your fork. Leaning over in your seat, you offer him the forkful while giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Because life is much nicer when you have choices, my love.” He chews, swallows, and returns the kiss with chocolatey lips and a warm smile that murmurs, “I love you, so much.”

Soon you’re both full of sweets and hot chocolate, and Dieter is looking slightly pink in the cheeks due to his special secret ingredient. You give him a questioning look and glance downwards, and he nods as if to say “I’m ready, let’s do this”, and you pull your seats out and get ready to leave your table.

“Do you want to go see if they’ll let you sit on Santa’s lap this year? It’s still early, the line might not be too long yet to get a photo with him,” you offer.

His face lights up with glee. “Absolutely, babe, but you have to be in the picture with me this time! You didn’t last year and it ruined the whole vibe!”

“Dee, I witnessed the whole thing! Me not being in the photo was definitely not the thing that killed the vibe.”

You relent though and join the line with Dieter. You both do your best to ignore the other patrons around you, at least one of whom you can see staring in your peripheral vision. It’s a young man with his phone half-held up, as if to ask for a selfie. He retracts his hand when Dieter notices him, smiles politely, and very deliberately turns away to give you a kiss on the cheek. The man looks slightly dejected but he doesn’t push it.

When you reach the front of the line, you clock the main elf giving Dieter a wary look. Santa gives her a reassuring nod, however, so she steps aside and doesn’t object when Dieter eagerly steps forward. This year’s Santa seems younger than last year’s, and he looks more solid too. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe this year will be fine.

At Santa’s encouraging smile, Dieter sits down on one of his legs and gets comfortable. Santa cocks his head at you, asking if you’d like to sit on his other leg. You make a face and shake your head no, so he murmurs a direction to the elf to bring a chair over for you to sit next to him.

When you are seated, Santa asks Dieter the classic question, “And what would you like for Christmas this year, young man?”

Dee leans in close to Santa’s ear and whispers something you can’t hear. It makes Santa smile though. Santa motions to you, and you obligingly lean in closer so the camera-elf can snap the photo of the three of you. The flash blazes in your eye-line momentarily, and then it’s over.

Dieter thanks Santa before standing and reaches for your hand to pull you up. Santa gives you a wink and lays a finger on the side of his nose, and wishes you both a, “very Merry Christmas, ho ho ho!”

As you leave Santa’s enclosure, another elf offers Dieter the printed photo and Dee pulls out his wallet to pay. You both wish the elf a Merry Christmas and walk away, hand in hand.

Dieter has a silly smile on his face as you stroll together. You aren’t sure if you want to ask, but you’re dying to know anyway. “So, what did you ask Santa for?”

He glances over at you and squeezes your hand.

“I told him I didn’t want anything this year. That you were all I needed.”

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

Buck's Bisexual Speedrun (AO3)

Neither Buck or Tommy know the meaning of the expression "taking it slow"

A/N: This is based on an ask I saw ages ago on how Buck basically went from 0 to 100 in no time when it comes to his sexuality and his relationship with Tommy, and that at this rate, he'd just walk into work one day soon with Kinard on his uniform because they got married.

---

“Good morning probie.” Buck happily greeted Ravi as he walked into the firehouse to start his shift after having had a few days off.

“You do realise I'm not a probie anymore, right? I'm a fully qualified firefighter, just like you.”

“Of course you are probie.”

“You were there when I officially qualified!”

“Uhuh.”

“You know what - never mind. Why are you so happy anyway?”

Buck shrugged, the smile never leaving his face.

“Can't a guy just be happy? It's a nice day, traffic wasn't crazy, life is good.”

“Right. But it's not even 8am yet. Nobody is this happy this early in the morning.”

“I am.” Buck said simply, brushing past him to put his stuff away, having changed into his uniform before arriving at the station. “Has anyone made coffee yet?”

“Uh... I uh... don't know... uh... I uh... just got here.” Ravi stammered.

“That's ok, I'll go check.” he made his way up the stairs to the kitchen where Hen had just poured herself a cup. “Morning.” he greeted her and moved around the kitchen to find a clean mug.

“Morning Buckaroo. No Tommy today?” She asked.

In the year or so that Buck and Tommy had been together, it wasn't unusual for Tommy to join them for breakfast if his own schedule allowed it.

"Nah, I thought I'd let him sleep. His shift doesn't start until six and I need him well rested when he gets into that helicopter."

Hen nodded and took a sip of her coffee, and choked on it when Buck turned around and she saw the name on the back of his shirt.

“Uh... were you in a hurry this morning?”

“No? I had to run some errands, I've been up since around 5.”

“Errands? This early in the morning?"

“Hmm. Had to pick something up across town.” He picked up his mug and joined her at the table. In the back of her mind the sound of something clinking against the mug did register as off but it was too early to figure out why.

“Right. It’s just that I think you've picked up Tommy's shirt this morning. It says Kinard on the back.”

Buck's smile got even bigger, and he seemed to actually be glowing.

“I know. I took his name when we got married. These are my new shirts. I picked them up this morning." He took a sip of his coffee and that's when Hen noticed the ring on his finger.

“You did what now?!”

“We got married.”

“W-when?”

Buck glanced at the clock on the wall.

“About… 55 hours ago now?” He smiled. “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. Did you know Vegas is only an hour away by helicopter?”

“I did.” Eddie announced as he walked into the kitchen and pushed past Buck to get himself some coffee. “Morning. What are we talking about, mister… Kinard…” he trailed off. “Are you two becoming one of those couples now? Is Tommy walking around with Buckley on his back?”

Buck grinned and raised an eyebrow at his best friend.

“No. Nope. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Eddie warned him quickly, holding up his hand as if that would stop Buck from talking. 

“I mean… he’s probably still in bed… so he’s not wearing much of anything right now.” Buck grinned and sat down at the table next to Hen while Eddie groaned and muttered something under his breath about never being friends with couples.

“Did you know?” Hen asked Eddie when he joined them at the table.

“Know what?”

Hen grabbed Buck’s left hand and showed Eddie his ring.

“You asked him? I thought you wanted to wait until the party?”

“Yeah… but then I picked him up from work last week… and I just couldn’t wait.” Buck smiled. “When you know, you know, right?”

“Hmm.” Eddie agreed as he focused on his coffee.

“So you knew?” Hen asked again.

“Yeah. I helped him pick out the ring.” Eddie shrugged. “I didn’t know he was going to propose now though.”

“Oh no, he didn’t just propose.” Hen started. “He proposed and then they eloped.”

“What?”

“I proposed, he said yes… and then we talked about it and decided to fly to Vegas to get married.”

“You did what? Why?”

Buck shrugged.

“It’s just easier this way.”

“Easier…”

“So you don’t want your families there when you say I do?” Hen asked.

“Well that’s the thing we talked about. If we plan a wedding we have to think of a guest list, and I have to decide if I want my parents there or not…” Buck trailed off. “And this way we don’t have to deal with all that and we can just throw a party. And I’ll send my parents a change of address card with my new name on it. They’ll fill in the blanks themselves.”

Eddie stared at him for a minute before shrugging. He had to admit to himself he could see the logic in their reasoning. He wouldn’t want Philip and Margaret Buckley at his wedding either.

“Wait… so the party next Saturday… that’s going to be Tommy’s birthday, your housewarming, and your wedding reception?” He counted the events on his fingers.

“Yeah pretty much.”

“Don’t think I’m getting you three presents.” Hen warned him and the three of them laughed. “Call your husband, get him over here for lunch. We need to celebrate with cake.” She said and got up to make a call, presumably to order a cake.

Buck smiled and pulled his phone out of his pocket to call Tommy.

“Is that from the ceremony?” Eddie asked, glancing at his home screen, knowing Buck didn’t care and often did the same to him.

“Yeah.” He pulled up the picture from the camera roll. “It’s when we said I do actually.” He smiled and swiped through the rest of the pictures, showing Eddie more of the ceremony.

“Who took the pictures?”

“The chapel had its own photographer. And Tommy’s cousin who works on the strip. You know him, the one that always gets you two tickets to the fights.” Buck explained, pausing on a picture of him and Tommy standing in front of the officiant, smiling brightly as Buck is sliding Tommy’s ring onto his finger.

“I’m happy for you man.” Eddie told him with a squeeze to his shoulder. “But I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to embarrass you in my best man speech.”

“Hold onto it, maybe you can use it in a couple of years if we renew our vows.”

“Buck. Got a minute?” Bobby walked up to the table with some papers in his hand and sat down.

“Uh… sure cap, what’s up?”

“I… just got an interesting call from LAFD Personnel.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah they said to tell you your new turnouts might take a little longer than they first said because they’re going to be put in with the order for the probationary firefighters who are about to graduate the academy.”

“Oh… that’s ok…”

“And to ask you to let them know if they should say Kinard, E or just Kinard.” Bobby relayed. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

Buck blushed and looked down at his hands, fiddling with his wedding ring.

“Yeah… uh… Tommy and I… got married. In Vegas.”

“And that’s my cue.” Eddie said and got up, leaving the two of them to talk in private.

“Vegas huh?”

“Yeah it uh… we didn’t plan it… we just… we decided to go for it. Knowing our luck with weddings it would probably end with one of us in hospital or some natural disaster ruining the whole thing.” Buck explained, looking at a spot on the wall over Bobby’s shoulder, not wanting to see the disappointment or anger on his face. “We didn’t purposely leave everyone out of it, I swear. We just… wanted to be married. And we were still at Harbor anyway, because that’s where I proposed, so we got in a helicopter and just… went.”

“Well I have to admit I didn’t see it coming… but I’m happy for you. For both of you.”

Buck finally got himself to look him in the eye.

“You are?”

“Of course. I told you when you two first got together, Tommy is good for you. And you are for him. I remember when he worked here, he was so closed off. Going through the motions. Until the transfer went through. I called him into my office to tell him, and I’d never seen him as happy as that day. But that was until I saw the two of you together.” Bobby smiled. “You’re both more comfortable in your own skin than I ever saw you before.” He patted Buck’s hand. “Now what should I tell them at Personnel?”

Before Buck had a chance to reply, Chimney walked into the kitchen area, whistling some kind of tune.

“Good morning everyone.” He announced. “I dropped Jee off at pre-school, Maddie at work, got a bagel from that nice place down the block from dispatch that just opened up, AND I beat my personal record in getting here. Yes you may applaud now.” He paused for a minute and rolled his eyes when he didn’t get an applause. “Buck. You need to call your sister.” He said when he noticed Buck and Bobby sitting at the table.

“I-I do?”

“Yeah. About Tommy’s birthday present. Apparently a brewery tour and craft beer tasting for two is not a good gift.”

“He’d probably love that.” Buck mused.

“That’s what I said!” Chimney said, exasperated. “But apparently I don’t know my friend. So, now you can tell her what your boyfriend likes and maybe she’ll believe you.”

“Ah yeah sure… I’ll call her… But Tommy’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“What? Don’t tell me you broke up. You just moved in together! You are not sleeping on our couch. You can crash at Eddie’s.” He decided. “And you’re not making me choose between you and him. I won’t do it.”

“You won’t have to choose.” Buck told him, trying to suppress a smile.

“Oh? Did you already decide who gets me in the divorce?”

“No… because we didn’t break up. Quite the opposite actually.” He held up his hand to show Chimney his ring. “We got married.”

Chimney stared at his hand and then blinked a few times.

“Well… congratulations. But now you definitely need to call Maddie because I am not keeping that secret until Saturday.”

Buck laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call her. Right after I call my husband to invite him over here to celebrate our marriage.”

The rest of the morning was slow, with no alarm going off and everyone just catching up on chores around the firehouse.

Buck had a sneaky suspicion Bobby had asked for any calls to be rerouted to other stations for a few hours, but decided to just take the easy morning.

He was just finishing up checking the engine on one of the trucks when Ravi called his name.

“Buck! Your boy- I mean husband is here.”

He smiled and quickly wiped his hands on a rag and walked to the open bay doors where Tommy was shaking hands with Ravi.

“Hey probie, hands off my man.”

“I was congratulating him! On your marriage!” Ravi protested. “And I’m not a probie anymore!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck waved his comment away, only focusing on Tommy, happily pulling him into a hug when he was close enough. “Just remember this one is taken, alright?”

“Hmm if I’d known marriage would make you this possessive I would have proposed months ago.” Tommy teased after accepting his kiss hello.

“You were going to propose?”

“I thought about it. Ever since I asked you to move in. I was going to get Eddie to help me pick out a ring.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you just beat me to it. On both Eddie and the proposing.”

“Well Vegas was your idea. So you still beat me on something.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Tommy grinned. “And what’s my prize for beating you?”

Buck didn’t reply, but just gently grabbed his chin, like Tommy had done to him countless times before, and pressed a kiss against his lips.

“Alright you two break it up.” Hen said as she pushed past them, carrying a large box. “We have cake.” She walked up the stairs to the loft.

“I’m not sure I trust you with cake. I still remember the last time I was around you with cake.” Tommy joked as he and Buck followed her up the stairs.

“I promise I won’t push you into this one.” She replied. “It’s for Buck too after all.”

“I don’t know, I think I might enjoy you covered in cake.” Buck said quietly.

“Behave.” Tommy replied but the look on his face told Buck he didn’t exactly hate the idea.

The whole crew was starting to gather in the kitchen and everyone congratulated the happy couple.

“Athena sends her love. She’s sorry she couldn’t get away but she told me to give you this” Bobby said and hugged first Buck and then Tommy. “She wanted me to kiss you both too but I think I’ll leave that for her to do herself on Saturday.” He joked. “Congratulations again, guys. It’s good to see you both happy.”

They thanked everyone for their well wishes and ended up having a mini ceremony in the firehouse kitchen.

Hen insisted they cut their Mr and Mr Kinard cake together and Eddie had assigned himself the job of wedding photographer, making sure to capture every little moment.

Buck made a mental note to get him to send them all to him.

“Evan, are you wearing my shirt?” Tommy asked, amused, a little while later when everyone had gotten their piece of cake and they had a quiet moment to themselves. He traced the letters on Buck’s back with his fingers.

“No, I’m wearing my shirt.”

Tommy frowned.

“Your shirt?”

“Yep. Did you not think I was being serious about taking your name?”

“No… I mean… yes, I know you were. But how did you get a shirt with your new name on it this fast?”

“I just called them and asked.”

“You asked. When?”

“When we got back from Vegas. When you were in the shower. I picked them up this morning. Only my new turn outs will take a few weeks.”

“When I was at the 118 under Gerrard someone somewhere made a mistake with my uniform and I walked around in shirts and turn outs that said Kincaid on the back for months. And you just… ask and get new uniforms in a few days?” Tommy asked laughingly.

“What can I say? My husband is kind of a big deal in the LAFD these days. He flew a helicopter into a hurricane. Got a medal for it and everything.”

[lunajay33]

Destiny Pt.6🐺 (Bonus)

Summary: Paul has just shifted to his new life as a wolf and feels empty without his imprint hoping he finds her soon, y/n just moved to forks to live with her dad and sister Bella and decides to go to the bone fire to make new friends

Part.5

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since I moved in with Billy and Jake, and I’ve noticed I’ve gotten a bit better, I didn’t have to walk on eggshells and watch everything I do, plus Paul was able to come over all the time, I really loved Billy for allowing me to stay

Paul was laying in my bed as I was decorating the little room with the things I’ve brought over from my old room

I turned around and he was spread out just looking at me

“What?” I smiled as I jumped ontop of him

“You’re just beautiful” he laughed as he held my hips against his lap

“Stop that you know I don’t like all that attention” I said hiding my face in him chest

“Oh yes you do, I see the way you smile and blush after I say something like, how beautiful your eyes are, or the way you scream when you laugh, I know you love it when *I* compliment you” he poked as he rolled me over on the bed

“I suppose you may be right”

“See that’s my girl”

Those words went right to my heart, I can’t believe he’s all mine

“I love you Paul” I said softly as I placed my arms around his shoulders

He was quiet for a while but I could hear a growl or maybe some kind of purrr from his chest

“I’m sorry it’s too early I shouldn’t have…”

“No, I love you too, you’re my everything, my life” he took my hands and placed them against his chest

“You feel that?” The thrumming and warmth enveloping my hands

I nodded excitedly

“That’s my love for you, the love that will never die”

“Oh Paul how did I get so lucky” I said about to cry

For the rest of the evening we were wrapped around each other talking, sleeping, making out until Jake came barging in saying they had to go and patrol

“COME ON PAUL” Jake yelled from the front door

“You can come back here after patrol tonight that’s if you want!!” I smiled

“I’ll definitely see you tonight baby but don’t wait up for me, but I gotta go, love ya” he said running out with the boys all waiting there for him

“LOVE YOU”

~~~~~~~~~~

I stayed up as long as I could before I had to go to sleep exhausted, I pulled on my matching pajama shirt and shorts and tucked myself in

Hours later I heard the front door creaking open and a bunch of rustling around, too tired to get up I just waited till I felt Paul lift the blankets and pull me against his chest

Feeling his worth lul me to sleep

“Night baby” he whispered as I fully feel into the best sleep of my life

~~~~~

The next morning I woke up to the sun shinning in my face, I groaned roling over to be facing Paul

The sun was highlighting all his stunning features, his brown hair, his tan skin

I ran my fingers through his hair as he started to wake up

“Morning my love” I smiled

“How was your sleep with your personal heater?” He laughed

“Good except for the part where someone snores loudly in my ear”

“Hey I was exhausted from patrol give me a break”

“Okay fine just this time” then the phone rang

I ran to the phone wanting to let Jake and Billy rest longer

“Hello Black residence”

“Y/n is that you?”

“Bella? Why are you calling” I said nervous as I felt Paul come behind me and wrap his arms around my waist

“Look im sorry for what i said, we want you back”

“Bella you can’t keep using me as your punching bag when you have problems, I deserve to be happy too, and I’m happy here” I said leaning in closer to Paul

“But Charlie talks about you all the time, you could atleast visit him” she said getting angry

“Well I can call him myself and work it out, I gotta go now” I said hanging up

“You okay?”

“Ya I just can’t get a break with her”

“How about I take you to the woods for the day and show you a good time” he smirked

“I’d love that”

~~~~~~~~

[fluentmoviequoter]

Imagine: being in a long distance relationship with deacon and you surprise him at home. He doesn’t know it and is still at the HQ. Hondo knows about your surprise and sends him home with a knowing smile after the shift. When Deacon comes home he finds you sleeping in his bed

Oh my gosh, this is adorable. I'm not totally sure if you wanted a fic or not, but I wrote one! I hope you like it and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: fluff!

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Long Distance to the Future

Since you left Los Angeles to take a new job across the country, you’ve stayed committed to Deacon and he to you. The job is supposed to be temporary, only it is indefinitely temporary. It’s been nearly three years since you started dating Deacon, but it will be your first anniversary away from him. It would be a lie to say long distance is easy, but it’s worth it. You haven’t used a single vacation day since you started, so you’re checking the price of flights to LAX, hoping you can afford to surprise Deacon for your anniversary. The first few months of long-distance were surprisingly easy since you were getting settled and forming a new routine, but now that things are settled, you miss Deacon more than anything. The screen finally loads, and you cheer in your quiet bedroom when the low price appears. You quickly book your ticket, prepared to see Deacon in person again. You text Hondo and ask him to call when he has time, hoping to get his help in the surprise.

Your phone rings less than a minute later, and you answer before the second ring. “Hello?” you greet, expecting Hondo.

“I have big news!” your boss cheers. “You got the promotion; if you want it, its yours!”

“Are you serious?” you ask, experiencing the second miracle in less than ten minutes. “This is such an honour, I don’t know what to say.”

“Think it over for a day or two then let me know, okay? Congratulations, you deserve it!”

“Thank you! I- can I sign the contract while I’m on my trip?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re off this week. Yes, we can do it online or we can just get a written acceptance and handle the paperwork when you get back. I’ll let you get back to your vacation, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. Have a great time and talk soon.”

The call ends, and you lay back on your bed, kicking your feet up in excitement. Your phone rings again, and you see Hondo’s name, smiling as the pieces of your plan begin falling into place.

✯✯✯✯✯

The landing in LA is a little bumpy, but nothing can take the smile off your face. You practically skip through the airport, energized by your countdowns until you are back in the same time zone, state, county, and now, city as your boyfriend. Hondo is leaning against his car, smiling, when you walk out.

“Thank you so much,” you tell him, hugging him before he takes your bag to put in the trunk.

“I should be thanking you. He misses you,” Hondo replies as he opens your door.

“I missed him, too.”

“When do you leave?”

You let the question hang, waiting until Hondo is in the driver’s seat with the door closed to answer, “About that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Hondo drops you off at Deacon’s house, giving you his spare key to get inside before Deacon returns from work. Waving at Hondo, you go inside and lock the door behind you. You leave all of the lights off and hide your shoes and bags in Deacon’s closet so there is no evidence of you visible when he walks in. Checking your watch, you see that Deacon should be home in about an hour, so you order his favorite food for dinner and wait in the kitchen, away from the windows (in case he gets home early), for the delivery. Once the food is dropped off, you hide the containers in the microwave and throw away the bag before walking to Deacon’s bedroom to wait. The adrenaline is wearing off, and you’re getting tired, even though you know Deacon should be home soon. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you wipe your eyes before realizing how tired you are. You yawn once and fail to find the motivation to get back up.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alright, Deac, head out and get some rest,” Hondo says. “The rest of us got behind on our paperwork.”

“Okay,” Deacon says, his brows furrowed as he walks by. “Have a good night, guys. Don’t work too hard.”

He walks out to his car, a little suspicious as to why Hondo seemed so eager to send him home, but he’s tired and misses you, so he’s okay with a quiet night at his house.

Parking in his driveway, Deacon sighs before exiting the car and going inside. He puts his backpack in the front closet and then walks toward his bedroom, ignoring the kitchen and planning to order food later. When he walks into his bedroom, he freezes, part of his mind telling him to get a weapon while the other works on recognizing who is sleeping on his bed.

He whispers your name and smiles when you move your arm, exposing your face. He sits on the edge of the bed beside you and lays a hand on your back, leaning down to kiss your temple. You stir slightly under his touch, unconsciously moving closer to him.

Running his fingers over your hairline and down your jawline, Deacon keeps his attention on you, questions to ask when you wake up flooding his mind.

You stir again and crack your eyes open. When you see Deacon, you sit up slightly and blink before asking, “Deacon?”

He nods, slipping his arm around your waist to help you sit up. You lean against him and look up into his eyes. You missed his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I was trying to surprise you and didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess,” you apologize, pinching Deacon's shirt collar between your fingers.

He takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb, looking into your eyes as he speaks. “Don’t apologize. I’m so happy to see you. Why am I seeing you?”

You laugh at his question, leaning against him as he twists you so your legs are draped across his lap as he leans against his headboard.

“I had a bunch of vacation days built up and.. I really wanted to see you. I missed you so much and our anniversary is coming up,” you explain.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you and Deacon say together.

“Well, it’s an excellent surprise. You didn’t leave any evidence you were here. Although, how did you get in?”

“Hondo let me use his key.”

“Hondo. Of course. That’s why he wanted me to go straight home. Are you hungry?”

“I ordered food. It’s hidden in your kitchen,” you reply.

“You’re amazing.”

“I know. You’re pretty amazing, too.”

“This was an excellent surprise. Thank you,” Deacon says as he pulls you to your feet.

“There is one more thing,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Okay,” Deacon says slowly.

“I got a promotion.”

Deacon’s eyes widen as he picks you up, twirling you around. You laugh, holding onto his shoulders. Your hands stay on his shoulders as he sets you back down.

“That’s amazing! Congratulations, you deserve it!”

“That’s not the good part.”

“What’s the good part? That seems pretty good.”

You lean up, close enough to kiss him, as you say, “It’s in Los Angeles.”

Deacon closes the small gap, kissing you like you’re his source of life. When you finally pull back, breathless and feeling whole with Deacon in your arms, you know you made the right decision to come home and take the job.

“Did you forget about the food?” you ask, laughing as Deacon kisses your cheek.

“We can reheat that. I had food earlier, I haven’t seen you in,” he looks at his watch to say, “11 months, 2 weeks, and 14 hours.”

“No minutes?” you ask.

“Just this one,” he replies, pulling you in just to push you backward onto the bed where he found you.

You laugh and cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Deacon Kay.”

“I love you,” Deacon says, his eyes glancing toward the top drawer of his nightstand, where a black velvet box is hidden. Future Mrs. Kay, he adds to himself.

[sequinsmile-x]

The Same Little Breaks in My Soul

It made her feel like an afterthought. A footnote in the life of the man who had once carried on her his shoulders around whatever embassy that they called home at the time, who had once promised her he’d always be there.

Emily finds out her estranged father has died. With the help of her family, she moves forward.

-x-

Hi besties,

Look, this weekend I went to see Snow Patrol and the new Bridget Jones on consecutive evenings and now I have a lot of feelings and I'm apparently making them your problem.

As always, this got away from me, and I'd love you know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Loss of a parent, grief

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

When she lived alone, Emily used to find peace in quiet mornings. 

On the days when she didn’t have to rush to work, when there wasn’t an early morning call about a case, she’d take her time to enjoy the quiet before the chaos of the day began. She’d make coffee after her shower and read a few pages of a book before she would start getting ready. It was a routine she’d cherished at the time, but not one she missed now it was a thing of her past. 

Nowadays, quiet mornings would worry her, a spark of anxiety she hadn’t had before she was part of a family flaring in her gut if she woke up to an empty bed and silence in the house that was so often filled with life and laughter. 

When she wakes up at 6 am to the trill of the alarm, Aaron’s side of the bed empty and the sheets cold, she knows where he’ll be despite the momentary panic she feels. She climbs out of bed and grabs Aaron’s robe from the back of the door, sighing contentedly as she pulls it on, chasing away the chill of the bedroom as she settles into the warmth of it and the smell of him lingering on the cotton. 

She finds him in the nursery as expected, sitting in the armchair where she often found herself in the early hours of the morning, humming softly as she nursed the baby girl currently fast asleep on Aaron’s chest. His eyes are closed but he’s awake, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Mae’s back and his lips against her dark hair as he kisses the top of her head. 

“I can’t believe I woke up to find you snuggling another girl,” Emily quips, and she smiles as Aaron opens his eyes and looks over at her, his voice low as he makes sure he doesn’t wake up Mae. 

“She got a little fussy about an hour ago. I thought I’d sit with her in here so you could get some more sleep.” 

Sleep had become a rare commodity in their home since Mae had been born 7 months ago. She’d never been a good sleeper, had rarely slept through the night, and would often - especially in the first couple of months - only be soothed if Emily would nurse her. It was something she’d struggled with at first, tired and worn out and on edge from being touched almost all the time, but she was proud of herself for doing it, for still doing it. Every time she looked at Mae, every time she saw the rolls on her arms and legs that felt inconceivable when she used to look at the skinny little newborn in those early days, she would know that she’d done that.  

She hums as she walks over and sits on the arm of the armchair, resting her temple against the top of his head whilst she places her hand over his on Mae’s back, “She is like a bloodhound if she knows I’m in the room,” she smiles and turns her head to kiss his head, “Or at least, she knows my boobs are in the room.” 

Aaron chuckles at that and pulls back to look at her, his smile soft and sleepy and deliciously hers, “Jack will be up soon.” 

She nods and kisses him, smiling when she pulls back and feels Mae shift under their hands, grumbling as she slowly wakes up.

“Why don’t I take Little Miss Hotchner, and you get breakfast started?” She says, itching to snuggle with her little girl for a while, her new idea of a quiet, slow morning a very different picture to what it once had been. He nods and kisses her again before handing her Mae, the baby’s cries stop in their tracks before they can even begin the moment she’s in her mother’s arms, “Hi sweet girl.” 

Aaron stands up, his hands skimming her hips as he steps past her, “Tea?” 

“Yes please,” she says as she sits down, already adjusting the robe she’s wearing and her pyjama shirt while expertly keeping a hold on Mae at the same time, “And-”

“Two slices of toast, and a banana,” he says, raising his eyebrow and smiling at her from the nursery doorway. His smile gets wider when she smirks at him, “I’m your husband, sweetheart. It would be a sorry state of affairs if I didn’t know what you have for breakfast.” 

She shakes her head lovingly at him before he turns and walks away, and she returns her focus to Mae, smiling softly at her as she latches on and starts to eat.

“Daddy loves us so much, baby,” she says, stroking her fingers through her daughter's dark hair, paying close attention to the ends of it that had started to ever-so-slightly curl, “We’re lucky to have him.” 

Their mornings were always like a well practised routine. They’d float around each other, making sure they and the kids were ready for the day ahead. Aaron would make sure Jack’s lunch was packed for school, and Emily would make sure he had his homework and his bag ready. They’d take turns getting Mae ready, and on the days when Emily was working she’d take her to daycare, and on the days she wasn’t she’d take Jack to school - smiling to herself as she listened to him talk to his little sister in the back seat - before she’d come home and spend the day with her little girl. 

When she and Aaron first talked about having a baby, the answer to the question of if they wanted one a resounding yes, she decided she would make some changes when it came to her work. She’d already left the FBI, a combination of her relationship with Aaron and her restlessness that had never quite gone away after Paris pushing her towards Clyde’s offer of a job in Interpol’s DC office, but she knew something still had to change. She loved her job - it was important, and she was good at it - but she loved her family more, and if she was going to add to it, to bring a life into the world, she wanted to make sure she made better choices than her parents ever had. 

Clyde had been supportive of her decision to switch to part-time work after her maternity leave, even if he did still occasionally offer her the job in London he’d initially offered her - something she was sure he did purely to get a rise out of Aaron - and it worked for her, for them. It gave her more time with Jack and Mae, and it meant she could try to be the mother she always told herself she would be. 

It was something that always struck her in the smaller moments, when she’d sit up with Mae in the middle of the night, or when she’d sit on a swing in the park with her in the middle of the day - the baby girl the sole focus of her attention - and she’d wonder if her parents ever did that with her. If they ever looked in at her face and saw the future in it, all the things she could become, or if they only saw what they thought she should be. 

Elizabeth, for all her faults, had turned out to be a fantastic grandmother. She played with Jack and Mae in a way Emily knew she’d never played with her, no longer using work or her social engagements as an excuse. Emily was happy for her children, happy that they had another person in their lives who loved them, but it made her ache. Made her sad for her younger self and the relationship she’d never quite with her mother, and the one she’d certainly never had with the father who had walked out when she was 14 and never looked back. 

“Mom, after school can we go to that donut place?” 

“Maybe,” she hums thoughtfully, as if she and Jack didn’t know she absolutely would take him there, and pulls up outside the school, “If you’re good today.” 

Jack rolls his eyes playfully at her in the rearview mirror, something Aaron always liked to say he’d picked up from her, “I’m always good.” 

She chuckles and turns to look at him, “Silly me, of course you are,” she reaches out and ruffles his hair and he beams at her, “Have a good day, sweetie.” 

“You too, love you, Mom,” he says, unclipping his seatbelt before he leans over to kiss Mae’s forehead, “Love you, Mae.” 

“Love you, Jack,” Emily replies, smiling as she watches him excitedly clamber out of the car, already shouting his friend’s names as he runs over to them, his backpack still only hanging off of one arm. She watches him for a moment before she looks at Mae, her smile getting wider as the baby smiles at her through the small mirror she had attached to her car seat so Emily could see her, “Right, Mae, what shall we do today?” She asks, as if she could reply, and she hums thoughtfully when Mae babbles, “You’re right,” she turns to the front of the car again and re-starts the engine, “The park sounds fun.” 

She’s halfway there when her phone rings, the ringtone loud and abrasive through the car speakers, and she frowns when she doesn’t recognise the number on the small screen in front of her. She answers, wondering if she’d somehow not saved a number from Jack’s school and he’d forgotten something he needed for the day. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello, I’m calling to speak to Emily Prentiss.” 

She furrows her brow, the man’s voice unfamiliar to her, “Speaking.” 

“Miss Prentiss, my name is Alan Mitchell, I’m a probate attorney, and I wondered if now would be a good time to talk.” 

She chuckles, casting a glance to the back seat in the rearview mirror, Mae’s little leg visible from where she was trying to wriggle in her car seat, “Well, I’m on the school run at the moment,” she says, furrowing her brow as the rest of his word’s register, “Wait, did you say you’re a probate attorney?” She feels her mouth go dry, her hands tight on the steering wheel as she comes to a stop at some traffic lights, the red she was on feeling nothing short of divine intervention, “Who… who died?” 

She hears Alan clear his throat, his sigh sad and close to pitiful, and somehow, she knows what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“Miss Prentiss, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but your father, Anthony Prentiss, passed away two weeks ago.” 

___

There was a time when she wouldn’t have called Aaron, when she would have floated through the day in silence, everything around her muffled as she tried to come to terms with news she wasn’t sure how to handle, but she calls him the moment she’s done speaking to her father’s lawyer. 

She pulls into a random street just two blocks from theirs, too distracted to drive but aware enough to stop, and she calls him. Her throat tight as she tells him that her father, a man he had never met and now never would, was dead. He drops everything to come to her. She listens as he puts paperwork she’s sure had only just hit his desk back into his briefcase and he tells her he’ll see her soon, that he loves her, and she finds herself grateful, not for the first time, for being the second woman he had loved. For benefiting from the mistakes he’d made and learnt from in his first marriage. 

He meets her on the random street. He’s breathless, having run the two blocks from their driveway so he wouldn’t have to figure out getting his car back from a street neither of them had even walked down before at a later date. She gets out of the car when he knocks on the window, his smile sad and soft as he apologises for making her jump. She sinks into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and seeking out the strength she feels like she’s missing right now, and he holds her back just as tightly. She isn’t sure how much time passes, but eventually he whispers that he’ll drive them home against the top of her head. She nods, and she climbs into the back of the car, her hand automatically seeking out Mae’s the moment she’s sitting down, while he gets in the still open driver’s side door. The drive home is only a handful of minutes, but she spends the entire time staring at her daughter, the little girl’s fist tight around her finger as she babbles to herself. 

“I’ll get her,” Aaron says when they arrive, his lips pressed together as their eyes meet in the rearview mirror, and she nods in response, unsure what she should say. 

Unsure what she should feel. 

She sits down on the couch the moment she’s in the house, her hands shaking slightly as she twists her wedding rings around her finger, the familiar knock against her skin of the diamond from her engagement ring grounding her. Aaron walks into the living room, Mae on his hip, and the little girl grunts the moment she spots her mother, her hands out in front of her as she grasps them around the air. 

“I’ll take her,” Emily says, smiling as Aaron passes her over, his hand skimming over hers as he sits next to them. Mae rests her head on Emily’s chest and settles against her, content and happy in her mother’s arms. Emily turns her head to kiss her forehead, breathing in the sweet scent of her, and then rests her cheek on top of her head, her lips shaking as she turns to look at Aaron, “Thank you for coming home.” 

He shakes his head and shifts closer to her, his hand on her knee as he squeezes, pressing his love into the joint, “You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart.” 

She swallows thickly and nods, “I…I don’t know if my mom knows.” 

“What did the attorney say?” 

She blows out a shaky breath, “That he had a heart attack. The funeral was last week,” she laughs humourlessly, “No one in his life even knew he had a daughter until they looked at his will and saw he’d left me everything,” she shakes her head, “The bastard walked away and never looked back and now he’s left me everything,” she smiles wryly as she looks back up at him, unsure when her gaze had drifted to Mae, “If you thought we were rich before you might have to brace yourself.”

It made her feel like an afterthought. A footnote in the life of the man who had once carried on her his shoulders around whatever embassy that they called home at the time, who had once promised her he’d always be there. She wonders what made him do it, whether he changed his will recently or whether he’d simply never changed it from when she was younger, and she isn’t sure which is worse - whether she’d rather he had thought of her and still not reached out, or if he’d simply never looked back. 

Aaron smiles at her attempt to make a joke, at the coping mechanism that had been her only self-preservation, and he squeezes her knee again, “Em…”

She nods, “Sorry,” she says, her chin trembling when he shakes his head, a silent response that she had nothing to be sorry for, “I don’t think Mom knows,” she says, “How am I supposed to tell her…”

She drifts off as she swallows down a sob she doesn’t want to escape, one she can’t let escape for a man who she’d grieved for years ago. 

“I’ll come with you,” Aaron says, ever practical, ever hers, and she loves him for it, “And I assume you’ll have to go to the attorney’s office to sign some paperwork?” He asks, and she nods, sucking in a breath that she feels sticking against her ribs, “And I’ll come with you then too.” He moves closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and tugging her and a now sleeping Mae against him, “I’ll be right here no matter what. Where is the attorney’s office?” 

She laughs, “Right here in DC. Turns out my dad lived here the whole damn time. I haven’t heard from him in nearly 30 years and he…” She shakes her head again, “He was right here.” 

He tightens his hold on her and kisses her temple, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better.” 

It’s a conversation they’d had countless times. Something they’d each said to each other as a mantra when the decisions of their parents would come knocking, an echo from their childhoods that they’d never quite been able to outrun. It almost always came out in a moment of parenting their own children - when Mae wouldn’t stop crying, or Jack would act out - and they’d doubt themselves, worry they were repeating cycles they sometimes struggled to see they’d already broken. 

“Yeah,” she mutters, pulling back to look at him, tears they both know she won’t shed yet shining in her eyes, “You’ll come with me?”

He knows she isn’t doubting him, that she’s merely looking for reassurance, so he nods and reaches out to cup her cheek, “I’ll never leave your side.” 

___

Elizabeth’s reaction, or more accurately lack of a reaction, leaves Emily feeling more unsteady. 

Her mother barely blinks, doesn’t seem phased by the news that a man she’d once been married to, a man she’d had a child with and at one point a life with, had died. Emily knows it’s likely her own way of coping, of dealing with news that Emily herself wasn’t sure how to process, but she hates it. Wants her mother to say or do something that helps her know how she should feel because no one else she knew or loved had known him. It’s something she feels stupid for, wondering why even now, after so many years of having to figure everything out for herself, she still expects her mother to guide her. 

A week after she gets the news, when the papers have been signed and she has more money than she’d ever wanted and owns properties she’s never visited, she still feels like she’s shaky, like she’s waiting for the ground to crumble beneath her. She still doesn’t know how to feel, her chest almost cracking open with all the emotions she’s stuffed there in recent days, her ribs creaking and aching with the pressure she knows will blow sometime soon. 

“Mom?”

She jumps, unaware she’d lost focus in the first place, and she turns to look at Jack, painting a smile across her face that she hopes he doesn’t see through, “Hi, sweetie, are you okay?” 

“Dad is putting Mae to bed,” he says, his hands twisting around each other in front of him as he sinks his teeth into his lower lip, “Can I come sit with you?”

She nods, the thought of a cuddle with her son easing some of the ache that had been ever present since the call from her father’s lawyer, “Always, sweet boy. You know that.” 

He smiles at her and walks over, immediately snuggling against her side, his head on her shoulder as she holds him as close as she can, soaking in every moment where he wanted this before he got too old for affection from his parents, “You seem sad.” 

She suppresses a sigh by pressing her lips together and she closes her eyes, turning her head to kiss his head, “I am a little bit.”

He pulls back to look at her, “Because your dad died?” 

They’d told him the same day Emily found out. He’d nodded, too familiar with death for either her or Aaron’s liking, and he’d hugged Emily tight, his arms around her middle the very thing that had almost made her cry. 

“Yeah,” she says, pushing his hair from his forehead, idly thinking that he needed a haircut. She liked to leave it as long between appointments as she could. She loved how young he looked when his hair was a little longer, how it would curl at his neck when he played soccer, a flicker of the little boy he’d been when she first met him, “Because my dad died.” 

Jack nods at her, his smile so full of sympathy that it flays her open, makes her ribs ache as she struggles to keep everything where she’d kept it hidden for days, “It’s okay to be sad, Mom. I was sad when Mommy died.” 

She loves his innocence, something he’d somehow been able to retain despite everything he’d been through. Even though it’s different, even though he’d lost his mom before he got to know her, and she’d lost the father who had walked out on her a lifetime ago, Jack makes her see what she hadn’t been able to see for herself. She’d lost a parent too. A parent she never really got to know, and she finds herself grieving for the relationship she’d always secretly hoped she’d one day get a chance to get back. 

“Yeah,” she chokes out, repeating herself, kissing his forehead before she tugs him close, not wanting him to see the tears shining in her eyes, “It’s okay to be sad.” 

He sits with her until Aaron comes down to tell him its bedtime, and he goes without fighting, without asking for a glass of water or for a bedtime story like he usually would to delay sleeping. He’d always been smart, wise beyond his years, and she knows it’s because he understands she needs some time. 

She hears Aaron come back down the stairs, his footsteps as familiar to her as the silence she’d once revelled in, and he comes to a stop just short of the couch, his shadow mingling with hers.

“I’d ask if you’re okay,” he says as he sits down, his smile achingly kind, “But that feels like a stupid question.” 

She hums, “Jack told me that it’s okay to be sad,” she says, her lips trembling as she presses them together, “I don’t…I don’t think I realised it was until he said that.” 

“Oh, Em,” Aaron tucks some of her hair behind her ear and encourages her closer, stamping a kiss against her forehead, “Of course it’s okay, sweetheart. No matter what happened, he was still your dad.” She nods against him and leans forward, her forehead against his neck as she sucks in a breath. She finally snaps, her chest full of love, anger and sorrow, and she shudders as she sobs against him. He holds her impossibly closer, runs one hand up and down her back and uses the other to anchor her head against him, his fingers tangled in her hair, “I’ve got you. I’m right here.” 

She cries for herself, for the 43-year-old woman who missed the father she never really had. She cries for her teenage self, the girl who’d missed the father she did know - who looked for love in all the wrong places as she desperately tried to figure out what she’d done to make him leave. She cries for the little girl she’d once been, the 6-year-old who would follow him everywhere like a shadow, her dad her partner in crime, her and him against the world, and Elizabeth, as they travelled it together, his presence always a reassurance that everything would be okay. 

Eventually, as she calms down, her chest empty and hollow, she pulls back to look at him, her face sticky with tears and her make-up smudged beneath her eyes. 

“He never got to know you, or Jack or Mae,” she shakes her head and wipes a tear from her cheek. Once she would have turned away to do it, made sure she wasn’t looking at him as her grief burned tracks into her skin, but she stopped wanting to hide anything from him a long time ago, “He never even really got to know me. And I know that’s his loss, I know it is,” she chokes on a sob as it catches in her throat before it shudders into her chest and sticks her ribs, her heart breaking over a man she thought had stopped being able to hurt her a lifetime ago, “But why does it feel like mine?” 

He doesn’t have an answer for her, and she isn’t looking for one, knows that there isn’t one, not really, but he rests his forehead against hers, “You’re right, sweetheart,” he says, wiping her cheeks, “It’s his loss. You’re the smartest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he smiles when she rolls her eyes at him, “And that’s despite him, not because of him.” 

She chuckles humourlessly, “Well,” she says, pulling back to look at him properly, “That’s not entirely true. You’ve always said that you love my nose, and I got that from him,” her smile trembles as she wipes her face with the heels of her hand, “Mom always called it the Prentiss curse.” 

It was something she’d only learnt to love about herself when she saw it on Mae’s face. Until then, until she stared at her daughter as she slept on her chest that first night of her life, Emily had only ever seen her father when she looked in the mirror. Everyone always said she looked like her mother, and she saw that too, but it was the parts of her that were her father she’d never truly been able to escape, his absence somehow making them sharper. But now, she didn’t only share it with him - but with her little girl too. It was something that was theirs, not just his anymore, and it would make her smile whenever someone told her that Mae looked just like her. 

Aaron tuts, a common occurrence whenever she told him something new he didn’t like about her mother, and he leans in and kisses the tip of her nose, “Not a curse.” 

She cups his cheek and holds him in place, “I don’t know how to move forward. I haven’t seen him for so long. I guess part of me always hoped I would again at some point…and now…” 

“And now, you know you can’t.” 

She nods, “Yeah. Now I can’t.” 

“If there’s anything I can do to help-”

“You’re already helping,” she says, curling against him, her legs thrown over his lap as she gets as close as she can, “You and Jack and Mae. You always help.” 

He kisses the top of her head, “You always help me too,” he says, “You’re the glue.” 

She furrows her brow and pulls back to look at him, “The glue?” 

“The thing that holds us all together,” he says as if it’s obvious, “And we’re lucky to have you.” 

She kisses him, the nose she’d inherited from the man who had left her pressed against the cheek of the man who never would, and she hums as he kisses her back. She pulls back, her eyes shining with happiness and sadness in equal measure, both somehow co-existing in the same place, hand in hand as she figured out a way forward. 

“I think I’m the lucky one.”