#is some of the editing and mixing on this bad? sure is! but did i have fun making it? hell yeah

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[thatsherastro]

Random Astro Notes Part 2: Water Sign Edition

If you are sensitive this post/ page may not be for you. These are general observations, aspects & houses matter. xoxo

Which element should I do next ? Fire , Air or Earth?

Cancers can be so sweet. These are the type of people to make sure that you are comfortable and wake up and cook you breakfast.

Pisces venus can attract partners who are questionable , drug dealers , criminals or maybe even a little mentally unstable

Nobody does emotional manipulation like a cancer. They will make you feel bad for what they did to you.

It may seem like your scorpio placement friend is paranoid but trust them sometimes when they give you a warning. These ppl have seen some of the worst parts of life. They know how dark things can get.

Pisces Venus & mars can have a foot fetish or be completely disgusted by feet lol no in between

Scorpios are dying to tell you their business lowkey. They really just want to build that trust and security first before taking you to their underworld.

Pisces can be really charitable.

Hey, scorpio mars remember:

Sex ≠ true intimacy

Ok please don’t throw tomatoes at me just yet 😭 but some pisces can be such kleptos & please don’t let gemini be in the mix of that chart. Go ahead & hide your wallet.

Cancers tend to hold onto toxic people because of nostalgia.

Pisces hold onto toxic people because they feel pity for them and want to save them in someway shape or form

Scorpios hold on to toxic people because in a way they feel that love is pain. These people are truly dedicated to suffering because of their loyalty.

Having Pisces in the 2H can really bless you financially. It’s like you make money in your sleep but be mindful that neptune aspect gets tricky. These people will spend all of their money before they even get it. Also STOP GIVING PEOPLE YOUR MONEY!!!

Thank you for reading 🫶🏾 Like & Follow for more

[miley1442111]

needing you- r.cameron

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a/n: saw an edit of him today and decided i had to write something for him. the buzzcut is just too good, i might do a part two if I'm bothered....

summary: rafe makes some awful choices, stemming from his need for you during a hard day.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: hurt/ angst, breaking up, fighting, shouting, mentions of rafe's addictions, mentions of al-anon, mentions of break downs and bad mental health in general, kissing, no happy ending :(

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Rafe was pissed, rightfully so. He was so angry, and he knew he shouldn’t talk to you, not even be near to you, but he had nowhere else to go. Surely his girlfriend would welcome him with open arms, right?

Wrong.

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He knocked on the front door of your house, only to be met with the confused face of your father.

“She went out on the water with some friends, she left her phone at home, sorry.”

It’s fine. He would just have to wait to see you. He thanked your father and set on his way to John B’s place, waiting out by the dock for you to come back. He would just have to wait the 4 long hours it took for you to get back to land. See, you were a mix of a kook and a pogue, but most of the time, leaned towards full-pogue. This was something Rafe usually admired, considering you took no shit from him, or anyone else, and you didn’t let anyone put you down for your friends and how you presented yourself. What he hated right now though, was the fact that Jj Maybank’s arm was resting firmly on your shoulder, as you 5 came back from your strenuous day of swimming and leisurely fun. Strike one before Rafe lost his shit. 

“Rafe,” Kiera scoffed. “Y/n, your man-child boyfriend is here!” She shouted back to you. Strike two, before Rafe lost his shit.  You nodded, but made no attempt to come up to him, still entirely engrossed in Jj’s story. You two were best friends, you knew everything about each other- don’t be a jealous asshole Rafe. He reminded himself as he bit his nails, waiting for you to come over. He watched as your face lit up with a beautiful smile as Jj’s story concluded, in a very ridiculous manner. Rafe didn’t make you laugh like that. He couldn’t, he wasn’t funny. He knew he wasn’t funny. Should he try to be more funny? 

Jj pressed a kiss to your cheek and waved you off as you walked over to Rafe. Strike motherfucking three. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. His skin was hot and tanned, more than usual. 

“Were you waiting long?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“4 hours,” he punctuated every syllable. Your face fell, he was pissed, and he was trying to hide it. 

“Did we have a hangout scheduled? I’m so sorry baby,” you apologised immediately, and Rafe almost felt like pretending it wasn’t true, but he just nodded. 

“No, we didn’t,” he swallowed harshly, taking your hand and leading you to his truck.

Your face turned to confusion. “So what’s this about then? Why did you wait for 4 hours?”

“Because I needed to see you,” he explained as tears welled up in his eyes. Rafe Cameron was not a man for emotions in public, even around his most trusted confidants. But he trusted you implicitly and knew you’d never tell a single soul about his emotions, so he showed them around you.

Today, in all honesty, had been awful for him. The second he woke up, rose was screaming at him for something he didn’t do, something about his dirtbike making a mess on the lawn (he hadn’t used his dirtbike in months, not since you said you’d rather walk home than go on it, since it makes you slightly nervous), then he got in a fight with Ward over him ‘not spending enough time working for the company’, which sent him into a spiral, and resisting his urges to just go get high and drunk and forget all about it were even more difficult to manage than usual. 

It was shit. And he needed you. 

You stopped walking and pulled him into you, noticing the wobble in his voice as he spoke. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Nothing is fucking wrong,” he groaned, wiping his face. “Well, apart from the fact that my girlfriend was too busy with her fucking pogue 'boyfriend' to be around today! Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re never there for me?! Or maybe I just fucking hate you!” 

You stood and stared at him in shock. “If you hate me so much, just break up with me,” you sighed, your own tears welling up as you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at the ground as the moonlight lit this awful moment. 

Every night when you’d sneak out just because Rafe needed you there to talk to and hold him, to be there for him, it all meant nothing. Every time you left your friends, or family, just so you could calm him down because he was having a panic attack, or bad cravings. Every time you pushed him to go to the Al-Anon meeting and picked him up after, then held him as he cried in your arms in the car, whispering about how he ‘didn’t deserve you’. 

Where was that boy now?

He was in front of you, screaming in your face. 

“Maybe I am!” He shouted. “Yeah, we’re done!” 

You wiped a tear away and sighed. “Alright,” walking back to John B’s to be with your friends. 

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It all hit Rafe the next morning. He had broken up with you. You were out of his life. You weren’t his girlfriend anymore. 

What the fuck had he done?

He dialled your number, only to get no response. He checked your house, John B’s house, your work, your school (even though it was a Saturday), and even decided to check Jj’s house, just in case. 

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Knock, knock, knock.

Jj opened the door to see a very flustered and surprisingly distraught Rafe. 

“Hello?-” 

“Is she here?” he asked. “Y/n, is she here?”

“Yeah,” Jj shrugged. “But she doesn’t really want any visitors right now, y’know. The girl needs her beauty sleep.”

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“I need my beauty sleep Rafe,” you chuckled as his hands roamed your body. God, you were so perfect right here. Here, in his bed, his bed sheet draped over you, the sunset spilling in from the window. You were so perfect, so beautiful in that moment. He’d wanted to make it a memory he’d never forget. 

“You’re beautiful all the time,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, just to feel the goosebumps start to form.

“When I get the proper amount of sleep,” you corrected him, humour lacing your words. 

“Nah,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You look beautiful all the time, trust me, I’m an expert.”

“In beauty?”

“In you.”

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“Please just let me talk to her-”

“No can-do bucko,” Jj smirked. “She’s busy sleeping, don’t want to wake the beast.”

“Jj, I swear to fucking god-”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” you sighed from behind the door. “Jj doesn’t deserve that.”

“Thank you sweetheart,” Jj smiled. Sweetheart. Rafe had always hated that Jj called you sweetheart. 

“Can we talk?” Rafe cleared his throat. 

“Sure.”

And there you were, looking as gorgeous as ever, still in pyjamas, but still flipping his entire world on its head. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jj sighed and pottered off back into the house. 

There was silence for a few minutes. 

“What do you want?” you huffed. 

Rafe didn’t exactly have an answer for that.

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

obx masterlist :) <- part two :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[tea-cat-arts]

Ranking mxtx couples by whether or not I think they'd be good parents

(I'm 90% sure I'm forgetting someone)

Yep, next question (S)-

Wangxian: tried and tested good dads. I wish them luck with the whole “trying to get wwx pregnant” thing 

They have some shit to work through, but after that I think they'd be fine (A)-

Ling Wen/ Bai Jin: if we're just going off the original publication, I would put them in a much lower tier, but since the revised edition added that thing about them raising orphans together and said orphans turning out alright before unfortunate circumstances, I'm putting them up here. I think they'll be alright once they work through the miscommunication

Xiao Xingchen/ Song Lan: They obviously have a lot of trauma they're working through, but I'd like to think they and A-Qing will be a loving family in the long run 

One of them would be a good parent, the other wouldn't be a bad parent (B)-

Jiang Yanli/ Jin Zixuan: there's no canon reason for me putting them this low. Jin Zixuan just gives off a mediocre parent vibe to me (and we all know Jiang Yanli is the best)

Yushipei: Yushi Huang has good mom energy, and Pei Ming has been shown to be a not terrible mentor. I'd want the misogyny fully beaten out of him with a mace before I'd think he should have kids of his own though 

Lang Qianqiu/ Little Guy: at the very least, they're making sure Guzi is fed, clothed, washed, vaccinated, and has access to education. Neither of them know what they're doing, but I think Little Guy is good at faking it. I wish them luck in their upcoming custody battle  

You know what, surprise me/ I'll hear you out (C)-

Bingqiu: My first instinct is “no, do not bring kids into this,” but then I remembered tharnShen Qingqiu has a surprisingly decent track record? Like, Ning Yingying and Ming Fan both turned out a lot more health than they did in the original novel, and though I wouldn't call him in a good place, Binghe is doing a lot better than Bingge. The wild card for me here is Luo Binghe because I have no idea how he'd be with kids

Quanyin: Yin Yu had a decent track record until he was pushed into snapping. I think rn, he needs a couple centuries of being a babygirl before he's ready to parent again. No idea how Quan Yizhen would do though 

Born to “dual income, no kids, rich uncles/aunts” (D)-

Fengqing: Feng Xin is canonically a bad dad. I know he's working on it, but it is what it is. Mu Qing has been shown to be decent with kids, but I think he’d have a melt down if he had to deal with the mess constantly. 

Hualian: I mean, Xie Lian has raised three kids at this point and one of them became a god, another became state preceptor and then sorta complicit in a genocide, and one became god AND committed genocide + he babysat a ghost king for months and didn't even realize that's what he was because it was a miracle if he remembered to feed him… so, a mixed bag. Hua Cheng may be schrodinger’s child hater, but I'm intrigued by the idea of him raising kids just because I want to know how his own childhood would influence his parenting abilities. They should probably just stick to babysitting for now though 

Mingling: Liu Mingyan is too busy writing gay porn to be dealing with kids, and I just can't imagine Sha Hualing as a mom

Please don't bring a kid into this mess (F)-

Beefleaf: Do I need to explain this one?

Mobeishang: Shang Qinghua should not be put in any position where he has to teach someone about consent (Binghe’s early attempts at flirting being a prime example of why that's a bad idea). I also think Mobei Jun is still working on the whole “why hitting people is not cool” thing. 

QiJiu: I think the original timeline is a prime example of how they're just not in a place to be raising kids 

Jun Wu/ Mei Nianqing: Xie Lian would like a refund on his adopted father figures. They had one kid and he only made it to age 20 because he was cursed to not die

[romor]

I'm starting to think people don't understand that adaptations have to be different. Did netflix have the same amount of time as Book 1 to work with? Technically yes, but 20 episodes is for sure more than 8 so they didn't.

If you are constantly comparing it to the original and upset about the changes. Then for sure the netflix adaptation is not for you.

I've seen some bad adaptations over the years, for example my favorite book is Inkheart. Even the 2010 Avatar movie is a better adaptation than Inkheart's.

Conclusion it's a pretty good series, if you like the original, if you can watch it without constantly comparing it to the original you will enjoy it more.

Editing to add to this since so many have said something.

Inkheart is not a horrible movie, but it is a bad adaptation. Fantastic cast, with no loyalty to the source material.

There is a difference between adapting a story, and remaking it. This is literally being referred to as the netflix adaptation, so clearly it's not a remake. Because it is an adaptation, changes are expected. It would be stupid to expect a copy and paste story.

The changes make sense, because if you want book 2, and only have 8 episodes to work, you have to make a lot happen. The original show has clear start and end points for the events that occur (aka you know that start of the episode and the end). That's fine, when you have 20 episodes to work with, each 20 minutes. That doesn't work with 8 episodes each 1 hour (or about an hour). It doesn't translate to smooth storytelling. A lot of important things occur in book 1, but let's not forget that book 1 is also more episodic vs the rest of the series. In fact don't we often say "it gets better," about the book 1? What I am saying, a lot has to happen in the first season to set up not just season 2, but season 3. They did really good making sure those events happened.

I don't mind the mixing of plot because they didn't have much of a choice if they wanted a cohesive plot. I would also like to add I'm so glad the removed the northern air temple episode's setting. Never felt right with me.

I'm not saying don't compare them because it's impossible not to. I'm saying that if you are constantly going to be thinking of everything they changed, if you think the original series is so perfect. So unflawed, that how dare they even try. If you are going to be watching it already offended that they decided to even touch it. This adaptation is not for you.

If you were like me and wished that fire did in fact burn everytime it touched someone. If you are like me and thought the original series was too light-hearted for its plot. Then you will enjoy it. It's a fun adaptation, that keeps as loyal to its source material as it can be.

Yes I have my issues with it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a fun watch.

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 8

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~3.8k words

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff! but with tension!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, did I mention tension!?, some alcohol consumption, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

Chapter Content: kissing / making out / suggestive content (SFW, but MDNI, please!)

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: okay, things are HEATING UP Y’ALL! Thank you to everyone who has read this series!! I am having such fun with this pair!! I hope you enjoy this part, even tho it is long! Sorry!! Content gets more mature, but nothing super explicit—however MDNI!! Just in case!! I'm planning two more parts after this!! ENJOY!

Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah (lmk if you want to join the taglist!!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

Even you found it hard to concentrate on work over the next few weeks. No one had ever distracted you as much as Yoon Jeonghan. Being in the same room as him had made you nervous before, but now there was an added layer of giddiness, mixed with anxiety over anyone noticing whether something had changed between the two of you.

You were sure to always greet him now, but didn't want to go overboard... You were still being cautious about the whole situation.

The line of text in your contract prohibiting romantic relationships of any kind between employees flashed before your eyes over and over again, making the pit of anxiety in your stomach grow every time.

"What's gotten into you lately?" Jiyeon sneered at you as you collected footage from the day's dance practice. You had been hunching further and further toward your computer screen, misplacing two large video files in the wrong folder and having to dig for them again. You hardly ever made small mistakes like this, and you knew it was bad if Jiyeon had noticed.

“Sorry, I’m not sure—” you said awkwardly. She rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you’re not feeling up to Fashion Week next week, I’d happily take your place.”

Oh my god, you thought, that really is next week. You would be on the same plane, in the same hotel, attending the same events as Jeonghan... You couldn’t even attempt to hide the smile that swept over your face.

“What are you smiling like that for?” Jiyeon was still scrutinizing you. “It’s so creepy.”

“Ah, nothing,” you said, trying to reset the look on your face, “I’ll be okay for Fashion Week, don’t worry.”

Jiyeon let out something between a sigh and a groan and headed to the editing bay with her hard drive, leaving you to freak out in silence over how on earth you were going to handle being that close to Jeonghan over so many days. There would be other members there, too, but you had been assigned to Jeonghan’s entourage. You wondered what he was thinking about it... Was he looking forward to it, too? Your stomach felt like it had flipped over inside you at the thought.

But, then it hit you—you hadn’t told him whether you definitely wanted to pursue this or not. The answer felt so obvious to you, but you were still worried about your job. But, how could you say no to Yoon Jeonghan? Were you an idiot? No, this was about more than just what you wanted... you had to do what was right for both of you...

You were in the midst of this mental battle when you felt someone lean over to look at your desktop screen.

“Ah, don’t use that frame—I look too weird, nuna,” Jeonghan was so close to you that you felt his hair tickled your cheek, making you practically jump out of your skin and rocket away from him on your rolling chair.

“Jeonghan!” You blurted. You quickly looked around to make sure that no one was around. Jeonghan just chuckled at you.

“It’s okay, nuna,” he said, unable to contain his amusement at your reaction, “there’s no one here.” You looked up at him, flustered nonetheless. You’d said hi to each other, but you hadn’t really had a proper conversation—about your feelings, or about anything else, really—since he told you how he felt last week. You felt your face getting hot immediately. He was looking at you, smirking still, now leaning against the edge of your desk. He had on his dance practice clothes. You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him during the practice. He wasn’t exactly known as the best dancer in the group, but his skills were underrated in your opinion. He was so smooth and captivating... you might be biased, though.

“What are you doing here?” you said.

“I came to see you,” he said, “why else would I be here?”

“I’m still working on this—” you said, even though you had technically finished.

“That’s okay,” he said, “I want to get you dinner when you’re done.”

“Ah, you don’t have to!” you said, panicking and feeling overwhelmed by how casual and sweet he was being. Did he not feel anxious about this at all? What was going through his head?

“Nuna, I think we should spend more time alone together so that you can start to relax,” he said in a low voice. He sounded sweet, but there was something velvety and... dangerous(?) in his tone that made your heart start to hammer out of control. You knew he had a point... it wasn’t like you wanted to be jumping out of your skin every time he came near you. But you genuinely couldn’t imagine ever calming down around him.

“Okay,” you relented, starting to gather your things.

“Yay!” Jeonghan said in a cute voice, making you want to just forget everything, squeeze his face between your hands, and kiss him over and over again. But you just laughed at him instead.

“Wah, nuna has such a pretty laugh,” Jeonghan said. Jeez, is he going to be like this all the time? You wondered.

“You’re crazy,” you said, as the two of you walked out of the production office and made your way to the parking lot. You figured that most of the staff and the members had gone home, but you were still wary, even turning down Jeonghan’s offer to carry your stuff.

“Nuna, why are you so bad at taking compliments?” he asked. He was walking slightly behind you, so you couldn’t see him looking you up and down as you walked ahead. And, mercifully, he couldn’t see your face flush an even deeper shade of red at his question.

“I’m not bad at taking compliments,” you said, “you just say them so... randomly—they catch me off guard.”

“Ah, I see,” Jeonghan said softly. “I’ll be more careful.”

“That’s not what I meant!” you turned suddenly, making Jeonghan stop short inches from your face. You immediately jumped backwards, overwhelmed by how close he was. He smiled even wider at your reaction.

“I don’t bite, I promise,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you. All you could do was turn around and walk even faster toward the car, trying to outpace your own nerves. Jeonghan had to jog a little to catch up with you.

“Nuna, it’s not a race!” he said, pretending to whine as you approached his car.

“Let’s take our time and get to know each other over dinner,” he said once you were in the passenger seat.

“I’d like that,” you said before you had time to think over your words. You kind of surprised yourself, even. Jeonghan looked over at you, his eyes gleaming with something like smugness.

“Ah, are you warming up to me, nuna?” he teased.

“Maybe,” you teased back, folding your arms in front of you. He couldn’t help but laugh at your pouty reaction.

“God, you’re cute,” he said. You looked away to hide your blatantly pleased reaction, embarrassed at how flirtatious he was being, but he could see you holding back a grin and it filled him with an even stronger urge to tease you.

Jeonghan drove you to a restaurant not far from your apartment. You’d walked by it a few times but had never had the time to stop in—even though they were open later than most places near you. It had a warm and cozy vibe, and there were almost no people there at this hour, which filled you with relief.

You sat down at a table at the back, and Jeonghan ordered an array of dishes for you to share.

“I like that sharing food here is so common,” you said when the dishes arrived.

“It’s not common in the States?” Jeonghan asked, filling a plate with a little bit of everything and then handing it to you.

“It’s not not common,” you said, “there are certain places that are ‘family style,’ where sharing food is expected. But you don’t see it that much at a typical restaurant.”

“That sounds so sad,” Jeonghan said. “Food is meant to be shared.”

“I agree,” you said, taking a few bites.

“Ah, I like that you eat well,” Jeonghan said. You became embarrassed at the thought of him watching you eat, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand.

“I guess so,” you said sheepishly.

“It’s a good thing!” he said, “Nuna! Take the compliment!”

“Thank you very much,” you joked, bowing to him. He chuckled at your taking his bait.

“What’s nuna’s family like? Did you eat ‘family style’ growing up?” Jeonghan continued to eat, watching you as he slurped his noodles.

“No, quite the opposite,” you said. You didn’t have a rough childhood by any means, but your family wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. “Both of my parents worked so much, we didn’t have much time to eat together.”

“Ah, that explains your work addiction,” he said, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Addiction!” you repeated, finding the word choice funny for some reason. Jeonghan gazed at you. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh more openly than he ever saw you laugh at work. It eased his mind, filling him with a sense of hope that you might get even more comfortable around him.

“You’re so serious about your job,” he said, “it’s impressive.”

“You’re impressive!” you blurted out without thinking.

“Ah,” he said, shaking his head humbly, “I’m not, really. I don’t think I work nearly as hard as some of the other members.”

“That’s not true!” you said adamantly. Jeonghan was a little taken aback at your strong reaction, so much so that you swore you could detect a blush creeping across his face for once. Seeing him get shy like that made your heart swell with such undeniable affection—and that was it, your decision had been made. It had been made before he’d even confessed his feelings for you, really, but seeing him so close to you—sharing such a simple but intimate act together like just eating a meal... it was so obvious.

“I’d like to keep seeing you, Jeonghan-shi,” you said. “I want it more than anything, actually.”

Jeonghan stopped mid-bite, staring at you. His heart throbbed at your straightforward gaze. You were looking directly at each other, both of you wanting to preserve this quiet but decisive moment, like a page turning.

“Wah, nuna...” Jeonghan said, putting down his chopsticks, “...that was so hot.” He smirked at you, your face getting even warmer than before, as if that were even possible. But you didn’t care anymore. How could you have even hesitated? You were so head over heels for this man in front of you, in his baggy dance practice clothes and his perfect skin even with a bare face... You wanted so badly to hold him, to kiss him...

“Chogiyo!” Jeonghan turned suddenly, flagging down the server. “Can we get the rest of this to go?” You stared at him.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, bewildered at this change of plan.

“No, we’re leaving,” he said.

“And going where?”

“Look, nuna,” he said, “I’m sorry to get impatient, but I want to be alone with you right now. Can I please come up to your apartment?” He spoke in a low, almost sinister, tone and your heart all but stopped. You hadn’t anticipated this at all. Ridiculously, your mind flashed to the sparse and impersonal feel of your apartment. Suddenly you were conscious of every dish left in the sink and piece of laundry on the floor... But you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“Okay,” you said.

~+~+~

“Just close your eyes until I tell you to open them,” you pleaded with Jeonghan. The two of you stood outside of your apartment door. You were fumbling with the keycode to unlock the door, distracted by Jeonghan standing right behind you, one of his hands resting on your hip while the other dangled the plastic bag of food from the restaurant.

“Nuna, I don’t care how messy your apartment is,” he whispered in your ear, making you giggle at the tingling sensation of his breath on your skin.

“I can’t have you seeing my place like this,” you said, matching his tone as you turned slightly. His face was so close to yours that you snapped your head away by reflex, finally crashing through the door. You took off your shoes and immediately started running around the small space, picking up any stray item in sight.

“Whoa, are you a minimalist?” Jeonghan said looking around.

“You’re not closing your eyes!” you said desperately. Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at how frantic you were being.

“Okay, I’m closing them,” he said, covering his face with his hands as he stood by the door.

You gathered whatever laundry and clutter you could find, throwing everything into the tiny hallway closet. You straightened out the bedspread on your air mattress (which you had yet to replace with a real mattress, even though you’d been living here for months). You fluffed up the pillows on the small couch at the other end of the room, trying to make the atmosphere slightly more inviting. But he was right—without the clutter, you wouldn’t know that someone lived here. Considering how much time you spent working, this apartment was basically just a place to sleep at the end of the day.

“Uh,” you hesitated, “okay, you can open your eyes.” You sat on the couch, and Jeonghan shucked off his jacket, taking a seat next to you. He wasted no time getting close to you, draping one arm over the back of the couch, boxing you in—his eyes determined and probing. You were so flustered and overwhelmed that you immediately stood up.

“What are you doing?” he laughed at you, taking his hand in yours and attempting to pull you back down to his side.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, almost shaking with nerves.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said, smiling sweetly at you.

“I have some soju!” you said.

“Perfect,” he said softly, his eyes never straying from you. For a moment you felt like he might be talking about you instead of the soju. You swore he kept gazing at your mouth... But you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him long, the look he was giving you made you so exasperated. You brought the bottle of soju from your fridge along with two glasses back to the couch, sitting on the floor between the couch and the low table that functioned as your dining table, desk, and coffee table. Jeonghan watched you, his hand floating up to play with your hair as soon as you sat down, making you giggle out of nervousness again.

“Nuna, relax,” he said softly, brushing your hair sweetly between his fingers before leaning down now to take the glass of soju from your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly downing the soju and burying your face in your hands.

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan said, also downing his soju and sliding down to sit beside you on the floor. You were so close that you could almost feel his breath, the faint scent of peach from the soju still on his lips. He was looking directly at you, and you decided to push through your anxiety and remain where you were, resisting the urge to back away from him out of panic. His face was slowly getting closer to yours, his gaze dropping slightly... Your eyes matched his, taking in his beautiful features up close. You were sure that he could hear your heart pounding out of control.

But you didn’t have time to worry much longer, because before you even realized it, he had closed the gap between you—and you felt his soft lips against yours, the taste of soju fresh on his skin.

You were so shocked that you forgot to close your eyes, and for a moment, you were frozen—the feeling of his lips completely absorbing any thought you might have. He pressed his mouth into yours softly, and soon you were returning his kiss. You felt his hand move to cup the side of your neck—his thumb running along your jawline as he deepened the kiss slightly.

You let out a soft moan involuntarily, breaking away from him before you could stop yourself.

He kept hold of the side of your neck with one hand, adjusting his seat so that he was facing you more fully. He took in the look of utter shock and bewilderment on your face, making him smile. You were a little older than him, but you were still so innocent—it drove him insane with desire. But he didn’t want to push it too far. You were already so willing to go along with what he wanted; he thought it was only fair to give you some time for your brain to catch up.

He rested his forehead against yours and you let out some mixture of a sigh and nervous laughter, unable to suppress the smile stretching across your face.

You licked your lips, savoring the feeling of how they felt against his, before you reached up to also take hold of Jeonghan’s jaw, guiding his mouth back to yours. Jeonghan took this as permission to unleash more of the frustration that had been building in him for months, since he first laid eyes on you.

You felt his free arm snake around your waist pulling you into his lap. Your mind was completely lost in the feeling of his lips. He’s good at kissing, you thought, the supple feeling of his mouth, his hands, his grip on your waist completely absorbing you. Your arms wrapped instinctively around his neck, and you felt his tongue run along your bottom lip before he nipped at it softly, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You couldn’t help but open your mouth slightly, inviting him in. The feel of his tongue sliding against yours made your breath catch, the sounds of your kisses and sighs filling the tiny room.

The more he kissed you, the more lightheaded you felt, and you started to feel like you might lose your mind...

“Jeonghan—” you murmured his name, pulling away from him to catch your breath.

“Mmm?” he murmured as he dipped his head, trailing soft kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, making you shiver with pleasure. His lips sucked softly on the space just beneath your ear, and you let out a small yelp of pleasure.

“Nuna, you’re so responsive,” he hummed against your skin. You could feel his lips curving into a smile. “I love the noises you make.”

“Stop teasing me,” you panted, gripping his shoulders. His muscles were so taut, you wanted to run your hands all over his body... to feel the trim muscles and massage away any tension that he might have...

You felt something familiar threatening to overtake you, a warm throbbing sensation pooling in the pit of your stomach as Jeonghan continued to kiss your skin languidly—his lips sticky and sublime. He could feel your rapid-fire pulse beating against the delicate skin of your neck as he kissed you. He could also sense himself starting to get carried away, unsure if he could stop his cock from growing hard before you might notice.

“Wait a second—” you panted, gently tugging Jeonghan’s face away from your neck, “you can’t leave any marks, Jeonghan.” Jeonghan pouted up at you.

“But I want to keep kissing nuna’s pretty neck,” he whined like a little kid, diving back into the crook of your shoulder to resume servicing the sensitive area just above your collarbone, making you moan softly.

“Kiss my lips instead,” you whispered, and Jeonghan let out an almost exasperated sigh.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he murmured, before pulling your face toward his, twining his fingers in your hair and pressing into the nape of your neck as he kissed you even more aggressively than before. You let his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, savoring the feeling of his eager lips against yours, moaning contentedly at his obedient change in position.

You lost track of time, completely subsumed by the feeling of his tongue against yours, trying to ignore the obvious arousal starting to gather between your legs.

You were never one to move this quickly, but you were finding it hard to contain yourself...

Jeonghan pulled away from you, his hands gripping around your waist firmly as he lifted you slightly off of him, moving to stand while effortlessly bringing you with him, starting to guide you toward the air mattress on the other side of the room.

“Ah, Jeonghan!” you said suddenly, reality colliding into you as he pushed you onto the mattress, his body on top of yours. “Wait!” There was a slight edge to your voice that made Jeonghan stop right away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked tenderly, gazing down at you below him. He thought you looked absolutely stunning... But your face was flushed, and the look of panic in your eyes told him clearly that you weren’t ready to go further. Not tonight, at least.

“Nothing,” you said, trying to keep your cool, but you couldn’t hide your frenzied expression.

Jeonghan ran a reassuring hand against your cheek, planting one last kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s pick this up some other time, nuna,” he said, shifting his weight so that he was seated next to you. You felt a slight drop in your stomach... some odd mixture of relief and disappointment coursing through you.

“Oh shit, it’s late,” Jeonghan said after looking at his phone. It was indeed late, and you were scheduled to join BSS on another sponsored content shoot early in the morning. “I’ve kept you up past your bedtime.” Jeonghan smiled slyly at you, and you got up to fetch his coat.

“I don’t mind,” you said, “I’m sorry—I just, I don’t know—that I—" you couldn’t find the words to explain your hesitation when it came to this kind of thing. You felt so lame, like there was something wrong with you... this was Yoon Jeonghan!! Why were you being so weird about this!?

But you were brought back from the anxious thoughts creeping into your mind when Jeonghan’s pillowy lips landed softly against yours once more.

“It’s okay, nuna,” he said, stroking your face with his gentle hands, “I’m glad I got to be with you like this.” He spoke so softly and sincerely, your heart felt like it was going to fall right out of your chest.

“Thank you,” you said, softly back.

You watched Jeonghan walk to his car. He waved at you before driving away... and it would take you hours to fall asleep, sure that you had just lived some kind of dream.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Cats&Coffee - C.SC

😻Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) with fem!reader 😺What: A lot of my brand of humour, perhaps borderline crack? Firefighter!Seungcheol. Business owner!Reader. Sort of a coffee shop au. Brother's best friend au. Reader is Shua's twin. [Simp!Chan as a background character but Simp!Chan is very important to me okay.] 😸Wordcount: 5.8k 🐱Warnings: Fire/arson mentions- nobody is hurt though and its not the main characters. Profanity. A lot of suggestive comments but no smut. More like sexual conversations. Reader is thirsty. Reader is kind of a brat but playfully. Mentions of bruises. Seungcheol calls reader princess&baby once. Implied Dom!Seungcheol but not actually shown. Let me know if I've missed any warnings, I'm terrible at knowing what to mention!

Summary; Okay, so here's the situation; you're just amusedly watching your best friend where he's perched up on a branch trying to convince the little cute fluff ball you are supposedly rescuing to get down, when some very attractive firefighters arrive to save the day. Low and behold, the leader of the bunch is the manifestation of your wettest wildest dreams; all buff and a little cocky and you're pretty certain he's showing off in that tight t-shirt for you. Do you; A- approach and flirt until he throws you over his shoulder or B- approach and flirt, and then completely forget to exchange numbers and only realise when he was long gone and then regret your very existence for the foreseeable future?

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist- Ao3 link

A/N; This all came from one of @sluttywoozi 's anon asks I saw that I then got caught on because they mentioned firefighter!Cheol. I don't have the link to the original ask but it's on her account! So inspiration credit goes to that anon!

Edited: 23/12/24

Lee Seokmin is probably the single sweetest person in the entire universe and everyone who meets the man will wholeheartedly agree. It is a unanimous decision that the man can do no wrong.

So, it's not his fault that the newest member of your cat sanctuary made a run for it out of the front door, which Seokmin hadn't closed behind him quickly enough, even though it kind of is. But nobody will ever say that, least of all to the Angel-On-Earth.

“I'm so sorry,” Seokmin apologises for perhaps the tenth time when he shuffles over to your side with his phone clutched in his hands and big, beautiful eyes staring up in a mix of worry and guilt at where Junhui is half wrapped around the branch under him with one hand outstretched trying to coax the brown ball of matted fluff to him.

“It's not your fault,” you assure, blindly reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Seokmin's left shoulder; you are too visually engrossed in what your best friend is doing in the tree to look over at Seokmin.

It isn't the first time that Junhui has climbed a tree to save a cat, or some other kind of dramatic action for the sake of a cat, but it never fails to amuse you highly.

“I should've closed the door,” Seokmin continues, lips pursed in a guilty little pout.

“It's fine, Seokie; Jun's part cat, he's made to climb trees.”

“Aren't cats really bad at getting down from trees?”

“No, they're actually good at climbing down.”

“Then why did Jun climb up after that one?”

“Because he's an idiot,” you snigger, your grin growing wider when your best friend yelps a little as he stretches too far and almost falls.

Well, almost is quite a stretch as his long legs are wrapped entirely securely around the branch and so is half of his left arm, but you're sure that it felt like he was about to fall at least.

“Hey!” Hansol calls, sticking his head out of the entrance door to the coffee shop you own with Junhui, though the main focus of Cats&Coffee is actually the sanctuary at the back.

Well, for you two and the staff, it is the main focus. You all are more than aware that the majority of the customers only visit the coffee shop with the intention of eyeing up the barista and well, you don't entirely blame them; Jeon Wonwoo is an unfairly attractive man.

“I'm going to go into your bag to get your notes, hyung!”

“Okay!” Seokmin calls back, giving Hansol a thumbs up in approval. Hansol returns the hand gesture and then goes back into the store, entirely oblivious to the customers ogling him.

Okay, so the customers don't just turn up for Wonwoo; they turn up for all of the men who are regularly in the building. But as Wonwoo is the sole barista and always in the shop out front and not the sanctuary out back mostly out of sight, you're pretty valid in saying the customers come for him.

“Do something!” Junhui calls after a few more attempts to reach the cat. You take your phone out and take a few pictures of your best friend. “Not what I meant!”

“I'm sending them to Kwannie, he'll be so pissed he missed this,” you muse, already tapping away on your phone to send the photos to Seungkwan, who you know will post them on the Instagram account he runs for Cats&Coffee.

Not because he is an employee or volunteer, because he isn’t, and technically it's not really an official account because the man made it himself one day after his own followers kept bugging him for more photos of the drinks and hot staff from the coffee shop. But because he enjoys posting embarrassing photos of the staff.

So Seungkwan runs what you and the other staff refer to as a fan account for the coffee shop and sanctuary, and he takes advantage of that joke to essentially thirst post about the men in a semi-serious way. Nobody knows if he does it for the sake of the customers, or if Seungkwan genuinely wants Wonwoo to 'grind him like those high quality beans'.

“It's okay, Jun-hyung! I've called for reinforcements!” Seokmin assures. “Just stay right there!”

“Just get the ladder and help me yourself!” Junhui whines in response.

“I'm scared of heights though!”

Junhui sighs and thunks his head on the branch slightly before he gets back to trying to inch along the branch carefully and grab the cat.

It isn't until you've put your phone back away a minute later that you register what Seokmin earlier said. “Hang on, reinforcements?” You question while turning to look inquisitively at the man still on your right where he’s watching Junhui carefully in concern.

“Yes, my best friend knows how to handle situations like this. He's done it a lot,” Seokmin answers confidently, so you accept his words and go back to grinning at the sight of your own best friend failing to win over a cat for the first time in his life.

Maybe you should've asked more questions though because when you hear Seokmin's name being called happily, you certainly do not expect to see a six-foot hunk of handsome fireman bouncing over with a wave and heart-shatteringly beautiful smile.

“Mingyu!” Seokmin calls back, smiling equally as bright and beautiful, and then the best friend is right with you and you're trying not to gawp up at him. “Thanks for coming. Jun-hyung went up to bring the cat down and now he's stuck and the cat won't listen.” Seokmin pouts over at the tree. Mingyu turns to look at the tree and pouts too.

How can a man be so cute and hot at the same time? You really have no idea but Mingyu pulls it off impeccably.

“Aw, poor Jun-hyung,” Mingyu coos sympathetically. “But no worries!” He perks up and turns back around to look at the pair of you. “We'll save them both! And by we I mean Soonyoung-hyung will save them; he's good at this. Animals love him!”

You notice two other men donning the same big jacket and trousers combination of a classic firefighter outfit approaching the tree and setting up the ladder. And hot damn if you aren't suddenly tempted to take up a new hobby of arson just to see them regularly because holy shit all three of these men are ridiculously attractive. You have to swallow thickly to keep the drool in your mouth.

The shorter of the pair by the tree holds onto the bottom of the ladder securely while the other climbs it smoothly. To your genuine delight, the man simply makes an encouraging noise while extending his hand out and the little furry demon of a cat trots straight over. You can't help but burst into cackling laughter as the feline climbs over Junhui as if he is nothing more than part of the tree while your best friend gawps in disbelief.

“Told you animals love him.” Mingyu grins proudly as you all watch Soonyoung traverse down the steps of the ladder, still as smoothly as he went up them even with one arm supporting the cat against his chest and its furry little head nuzzling into the man's jaw while Soonyoung giggles happily at the cute actions.

“A regular Snow White.” You grin.

“I'll be right back!” Soonyoung calls to Junhui and already walking over to the three of you. “Hi! I'm Soonyoung!” He greets brightly. “Your friend says to give the cat to you?” He tries to offer you the cat but it yowls and latches onto his jacket. Luckily, the material is thick and sturdy enough that the cat's claws don't actually reach the man's body.

“I think he likes you,” you muse.

“Aww,” Soonyoung coos and nuzzles the cat who loudly starts to purr. “He's so lovely, what's his name?”

“He hasn't got one yet. We run a sanctuary and he's our newest rescue.”

“A rescue?” Soonyoung turns round, sad eyes on you. “Is he okay.”

“Yeah, the vets gave him the go-ahead, he's just a little shit who wouldn't let them groom him at all. I think we might have to shave him if he doesn't let us.”

“But his hair is so beautiful.” He pouts. “It'll grow back well, right?”

“Of course,” you assure the man making his pout melt away.

“Uhm, hello?!” Junhui yells from the branch, gaining your attention back. Even the man at the bottom of the ladder hasn't been paying him any attention.

“Oh, right.” Soonyoung once again tries to hand the cat to you but the feline really doesn't want to let him go. You think it’s understandable. “Mingyu, can you go up and-”

“No way.” Mingyu shakes his head adamantly with wide eyes. “You know I'm scared of heights, hyung.”

“You're a firefighter who's scared of heights?” You deadpan. He pouts at you. “You're right; why do firefighters even need to climb ladders anyway? Just leave him in the tree, he'll get down when he falls.” Mingyu giggles a little.

“I got it,” a new voice calls, one you initially assume belongs to the man by the ladder but, oh are you so wrong.

A fourth firefighter appears; he’s clad in the same uniform as the others but something about the way he wears it seems more like it was made for him. He's already approaching the tree from the road where the fire engine is parked and he had been sitting inside in wait.

And you are unaware of this but he has definitely been checking you out the entire time and only got out with every intention of showing off.

He stops once at the foot of the tree and glances over his shoulder at the four of you before shucking off his jacket. Your throat dries at the sight of his broad, muscular torso filling out the fitted black t-shirt strapped over with the suspenders of his uniform trousers.

And talking of those trousers, holy shit does he fill them out well. You could've never imagined yourself wanting to bite someone's ass before but here you are, practically salivating at the curve of his plump backside in the ugly trousers. Which is only made more obvious when he starts to climb the ladder.

You don't even notice that the three men you’re standing with start to converse around you; your entire focus is on the epitome of your wet dreams manhandling your best friend down from the tree.

It probably says a lot that even though you have never and will never want to bone your best friend, the sight of the attractive stranger throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him down the ladder like he's nothing really does something to you.

And by that, you mean you'd really like it if the man would throw you over his shoulder, then promptly down onto his bed and climb on top. Or any surface so long as he puts himself between your thighs immediately afterwards.

And to top it off, the man doesn't even put Junhui down once both of his feet are back on the grass; he just turns and starts to approach. The man at the bottom of the ladder rolls his eyes and takes the ladder away knowing exactly what is happening here.

“I believe this belongs to you,” the man states once close enough, abruptly ending the conversation the other three men are having as they look at him. Though he's just staring you down with dark eyes and you're really not going to look away either.

“I wouldn't say he belongs to me,” you return, hoping he gets the hint that you are very single and very willing to mingle with him specifically.

“No? He told me you're his partner.” The fireman tilts his head a little, his left eyebrow raising in question.

“Work partners!” Junhui exclaims, still flopped over the man's shoulder and seeming to be rather willing to remain there for the foreseeable future. “Not romantic or sexual, gross! Not that's she's gross; she's really hot and I've heard good things from her ex-partners!”

Bless Wen Junhui for always trying to hype you up and get you a man.

“Good to know,” the firefighter murmurs, gaze blatantly checking you over. You take the chance to return the favour, and the three men with you quickly back up not wanting to be caught up in this very obvious and shameless flirtation.

Your phone suddenly starts to audibly vibrate in your pocket and you ignore it, more interested in the man in front of you.

“I think you're vibrating,” he points out amusedly.

“Mm, yeah, it's just my phone,” you confirm, half tempted to make a remark about how he could make something else vibrate on you if he wants, but pretty sure that's a little out of social protocol where first meetings with attractive strangers are concerned.

Next time though.

“Isn't he killing your shoulder?” You ask, nodding to Junhui's limp body.

“No.” Though the man still puts Junhui down carefully all the same as if reminded that he really should not stand there with a stranger draped over him any longer or it'd get really weird. “I can carry more weight than him for longer.”

“On your shoulder?”

“However I need to.”

“Good to know,” you return his earlier statement, gaze lingering on the way his chest is all but straining the material of his t-shirt. You don't notice his cocky smirk; you’re far too invested in imagining the material tearing open and freeing his beefy body for your viewing pleasure. Physical too, but those thoughts mostly come later when you're alone in bed.

Junhui stares between the two of you for a moment, wondering if either of you are going to say anything more or just continue to strip each other with your eyes. He figures it's the latter so walks off to try and claim the cat back from Soonyoung.

Neither you nor the hot fireman notice the world continuing to spin around you, up until Mingyu bounces over and pats the slightly shorter man on the shoulder with a; “Chief, we got a call; we need to go. Jihoon-hyung is already waiting to go.”

“Oh, right; work,” Chief replies, face twisting momentarily with displeasure, before he gets back into work mode and nods. “Alright, let's go.” He nods at you in farewell, and Mingyu waves brightly before the tallest rushes right back to the vehicle. The other detours to pick his jacket up from the grass then jogs to climb up into the vehicle too before it pulls away with its lights already flashing and siren kicking in when they're on the main road.

Kind of dazed, you toddle into the store and around the counter to lean dramatically against Wonwoo. There's a mystery stain on the sleeve of his hoodie near your face but you don't have the mental capacity to question it.

Wonwoo doesn't give you any attention until he's done with the customer in front of him.

“What's with you now?” He asks, pulling his arm around from where it's pressed against your chest to sling it around your shoulders instead and tug you more against his chest.

There's another mystery stain here and you vaguely recall that today is clearly a 'Wonwoo is trying to discourage is legions of fangirls' day. The man is dressed in an old, scruffy and stained hoodie and sweatpants combination; the hems barely even meet his ankles and wrists they’re so old, and he has to tie the waistband of the sweatpants up with multiple shoelaces strung together because the original tie was lost years ago. But his fangirls still stare at him as if he is Adonis reincarnated. You have to admit, he still does look unfairly beautiful like this.

“I'm in lust, Wonie,” you whine while squeezing around his waist as if you can get some of the frustration out that way.

The tall man makes a noise of understanding and pats your head as if you're one of the animals from out back. It actually feels pretty nice so you allow it. “Ah, the firefighter who carried Jun down. They told me you two were eye-fucking.”

“I don't want to eye-fuck him, I want to fuck-fuck him,” you complain, squeezing again.

Wonwoo wheezes a little and forces you to loosen your hold yet doesn't remove you from his body otherwise. “Then text him and arrange a date.”

You freeze, then jerk backwards to look up at him with a gaze so devastatingly heartbroken that Wonwoo immediately cups your face and starts to coo consolingly, even if he isn't sure why you look like your entire world is crumbling down around you.

“I forgot to get his number,” you wail.

Wonwoo's touch stills and his face falls flat, before turning unimpressed. “You're a fucking idiot.”

“I know.”

You know that if it wasn't for the new customer approaching the counter, Wonwoo would go on to tell you all the ways in which you are an idiot, but luckily for your currently very fragile ego, there is a customer, so he turns to take her order and goes back to ignoring you even as you attach to his back like some kind of sad-horny parasite.

For days you mourn the loss of what you have convinced yourself would be the best dick you will never be blessed with.

In this mourning, it does not at all cross your mind to simply ask Seokmin to ask his bestie to hook you up with his co-worker, nor does it cross Seokmin's mind either. It does, however, cross Wonwoo's mind; but the barista is kind of cruel at times and finds other's suffering amusing. Only when it's not serious though because Wonwoo can be a bit of a sadist but he's not an asshole.

Regardless of who does or does not think up the logical solution to your suffering, you continue to suffer for days.

Until you are pretty much handed the perfect opportunity to reunite with your lost lover by genuinely the last person you'd expect.

“Wait, what the fuck did you just say?” You demand, interrupting your brother's words as he talks away to Chan by the counter in an attempt to stop the youngest man from waxing poetic over your eyes, or ass, or maybe even your philtrum; you can never tell with your simp of a neighbour.

“I was telling Chan about the fundraiser I'm helping out with for my friends,” Joshua answers while giving you a long-suffering look; the same look he always wears around Chan because, well, who wants to hear someone blathering on about how hot their sibling is?

“You don't have friends,” you retort without thought.

“More than you,” your twin scoffs and picks up his mug from the counter to sip at happily.

Cats&Coffee doesn't actually offer a drink-in option due to how small the space is, so the mugs on hand are purely for the staff or your friends when they stop by. And Joshua, of course, has his own special mug because he's a pain in your ass, but you love him more than anyone else and let him pretty much do want he wants; include supply a hand painted mug for himself to drink his beverages from at the store. Even if you think it's ugly.

“I'm noona's friend,” Chan points out.

“You're her simp, you don't count,” Joshua corrects.

Chan immediately turns to pout all sad and cute at you. “I'm your simp and friend, right, noona?”

“Of course, Channie,” you coo while reaching over the counter to tap the tip of his nose. The younger beams happily and then sends your twin a smug look. Joshua just rolls his eyes. “What's the fundraiser for?” You ask, wanting to get back to the vital conversation.

“The firehouse-”

“When?” You gawp, leaning over the counter towards your brother with eyes wide.

“Tomorrow. Why the fuck are you looking at me like that? It's terrifying.”

“Ly beautiful. You mean terrifyingly beautiful,” Chan retorts simply without missing a beat before noisily sucking through his straw. Joshua chooses to entirely ignore Chan.

“I'm going,” you declare. “Tomorrow. I'm going to the fundraiser.”

“What? Why?” Joshua gives you a suspicious look.

“There will be a wet t-shirt contest, right?” You ask.

“What the fuck? No! This is a community event to raise funds for the family whose house burned down last week, dumbass. Not a fetish movie.”

“They're called porn, Shua,” you point out while pouting slightly at your horny dreams being broken so ruthlessly.

“So noona won't be in a wet t-shirt contest?” Chan asks, eyes sparkling with the thought.

“I'm leaving,” Joshua decides, picking up his mug to take with him and goes through to the sanctuary looking for a safe haven of his own away from you and Chan.

“Sometimes I think you two should just fuck and get it over with,” Wonwoo declares from where he's perched on the stool a little further down the counter munching away on the doughnuts Chan brought with him twenty minutes ago in an attempt to sweeten you all up and allow him to stay longer.

None of you will ever tell him that he doesn't need to bring treats every time he wants to hang around because truthfully, you are all useless at remembering to bring food to work or restocking the staff room, so Chan is often the only reason any of you eat in the middle of the week.

“I think so too,” Chan agrees wholeheartedly while nodding enthusiastically along.

Wonwoo grins in amusement. He always sticks around when Chan visits because he thinks it's the most entertaining thing ever how obviously obsessed with you the young man is. And, of course, Wonwoo thrives on goading the younger on and often making comments in regard to the one time you and Wonwoo fell into bed together.

Well, not bed exactly; more like over the counter late enough one night that it was really early the next morning. Regardless, Wonwoo likes to theatrically retell certain aspects of your tryst, which you know are exaggerated or entirely fake, just to watch Chan drool at the mental images.

“Ah, but once you've had a taste, you'll be begging for more,” Wonwoo replies dramatically.

“I already beg,” Chan is utterly shameless and it only makes Wonwoo's grin grow. “But I can beg more.” The younger looks at you now, but you're too busy texting Seungkwan to task him with getting all the information possible about the fundraiser the next day.

Chan wants to interrupt and ask you if him begging more is what you want him to do, but you look too focused and he loves it when you've got that serious expression on, so he just sighs dreamily and leans down on his elbows to stare adoringly at you.

Thanks to Seungkwan working his magic, Cats&Coffee snag a last-minute stall at the fundraiser where you, Junhui and Hansol set up all the merchandise left over from previous fundraisers.

Hansol always finds these fundraisers awkward purely because the Cats&Coffee special, limited edition fundraiser merchandise always consists of various items with photos of the men on them; the calendars of the men posing with cats are always a hit and a yearly preorder in November.

Junhui, however, doesn't even blink twice at seeing his own face staring back at him on the reusable travel mugs and keychains.

And Wonwoo happily avoids the stall to run the mini coffee truck a little to the right while pointedly ignoring the sign above him that boasts an old, edited picture of him. You and Seungkwan think Wonwoo looks absolutely precious with cat ears, whiskers and a little bell around his throat as he naps curled up with various cats. And you know the fans customers agree so the sign has remained for the past two years.

Usually, you love doing these fundraisers and get lost in convincing people to buy the merchandise, not that most of them need much convincing, to be honest. But you are rather adept at upselling with a way with words that would have the most skilled of grifters taking note, and you take great pride in it.

Yet today, you can't even enjoy watching Hansol awkwardly accepting payment for a photocard lucky dip that may or not be a little photo of his face, or Wonwoo trying to come up with new ways to discourage yet another of his fangirls from being a fangirl.

You're much more focused on watching the man of your wet dreams where he is giving tours of the fire engine and teaching people the importance of fire safety. You'd say teaching kids if you weren't positive that most of the kids are only standing and listening to him because their parents are there; and it’s very obvious which of the parents are present just to ogle the attractive man and don't give a single flying fuck about the words spilling from his mouth.

“Ohmygod, no, don't,” the familiar voice of your brother breaks you from your thirsting. You turn to look at him where he is standing between the coffee-cart and the gazebo you’re seated under. “Don't tell me you only came today because you've got the hots for Seungcheol.”

“Seungcheol?” You're up on your feet in seconds and grabbing a hold of your brother's weirdly sweaty face. You can't even focus on it; you have much more important matters to attend to. “His name is Seungcheol?”

“No,” Joshua mutters while trying to push your hands away from where you’re squishing his cheeks together into an unattractive pout. But he only has one hand free, the other holding an iced americano in a reusable cup with Seokmin's face on, so he can't really fight you off effectively or back up unless he wants to take a tumble to the gravel with Wonwoo.

“It is! Seungcheol. Man, that's a good name, sounds great. Feels great.”

“Stop it, ew,” he complains, looking genuinely pained at your words.

“Only when you tell me everything about him, but most importantly, is he single?”

“He's my friend, don't.”

“You've fucked my friends; I'm going to fuck yours whether you like it or not.”

Your brother whines wordlessly knowing that you have him beat there. He has definitely had various relations with various friends of yours in the past, and most certainly will again in the future too.

“Ugh, fine,” he concedes while slumping, so you make a happy noise and let him go.

Only now do you pay attention to the sweat on your palms and pull a disgusted face, before wiping them on his t-shirt, though that's not exactly in a much better condition. “Why the fuck are you so sweaty?” You eye him in pure disgust.

“Because Jihoon and I are doing demonstrations.” You give him a questioning look. “Exercise, you know; the thing people do to be healthy?” He rolls his eyes. “The guys asked him to lead a basic exercise demonstration to help encourage healthy habits and he asked me to help, you know, seeing as I'm a personal trainer with him.”

“Oh!” You make a noise of understanding. “Jihoon is your hot colleague.” Then another revelation comes to you and you gasp while hitting his arm a few times. He bats you in return, then pouts as he rubs at the impact spot on his bicep. “He was holding the ladder!”

“What?” Joshua looks at you as if you're crazy. Which, honestly, is a pretty common expression he wears around you or anyone who works at Cats&Coffee, or regularly spends time there.

You really do associate with a top-notch bunch of weirdos.

“The other day Junnie got stuck up a tree so Seokie called his hot bestie, who turns out to be a hot fireman with hot coworkers and the only one who I didn't talk to was Jihoon! I didn't recognise him in his uniform, and he's blond now and grew his hair out?”

“Mm, yeah, looks good right?” He enthuses and you nod. “I'll tell him you said that.”

“Mm sure,” you agree without care. “But back to the important matter here; Chief Seungcheol.” Your eyes are practically burning with how much they glisten at the thought of the buff man currently showing the hose attached to the fire engine.

Man, you wish he'd show you his hose; innuendo emphatically intended.

“I'm so going to regret this but yes, he's single.” Your brother sighs. “And now I know how you two met, I'm guessing you're the woman whose number he forgot to get after eye-fucking her with her friend on his shoulder.”

“Man, that was hot; he could throw me around so-”

“Okay, no, shut up. You're my baby sister, I don't need to hear that,” he complains, backing up with a shake of his head out of the gazebo.

“You're less than an hour older!”

“Can't hear you!” He calls back over his shoulder, already jogging back to his own station across the lot.

You turn to sit back down and happen to notice the Chief himself standing in front of the fire engine and no longer surrounded by visitors, while staring in your direction, with his big arms crossed over his big chest and a dark look in his eyes. You expect him to turn and get back to work, but he tilts his head when your eyes meet; a silent demand before he turns and walks past the huge vehicle and through the staff-only door to enter the firehouse.

“Fellas, I'm going to go get me some dick,” you declare, patting Junhui on the shoulder as you pass him to edge around the table.

“Ask him how to handle his big hose!” Junhui calls without looking up from the keyrings he is rearranging.

Hansol wonders how you two ever manage to run a business when you both always say such things so blatantly in front of customers, but then he notices the young women at the table all fawning over the merchandise obliviously and wonders no longer.

The interior of the firehouse is blessedly cool in comparison to the hot weather outside; even under the gazebo out of the sun's direct glare, you were starting to get a little sweat dappled.

“Hey,” the voice makes you jump slightly and you turn to find Seungcheol leaning back against a dinner table. You take a quick glance around behind him and realise it's the kitchen area. You're standing in the mostly open area of the ground floor, though there's a couch further to your right and you briefly imagine him pinning you down on it.

“Hi, Chief,” you reply while sauntering closer.

“You know Shua?” He asks bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush. He's pretty certain you both have one thing on your mind based on the way he has noticed you staring him down hungrily for the past two hours.

“He's my brother,” you inform and stop close enough in front of him that the tips of your sandals are almost touching the toes of his clunky uniform boots. You dread to think how hot his feet must be in those.

For a second, you're genuinely disgusted at the thought, but then you notice how his crossed arms bulge and threaten to rip the hems of his sleeves around his biceps and suddenly you don't even know what feet are.

“You're his twin?” He gawps, arms dropping to his sides in disbelief and crushing disappointment.

You hum with a nod and pout a little at the lack of bulging biceps in your vision. But then you realise you can now see his pecs stretching out the black material and you're happy again.

“Stop,” he mutters and reaches up to physically tilt your head up so that you're no longer blatantly checking him out with heavy eyes. “You know your brother is pretty much my best friend, right?” He genuinely looks pained. “I can't fuck you.”

“Yes, you can.” You smirk and step closer, pressing your palms to his chest. You can feel him inhale deeply when you make a home for yourself against him, your thighs locked between each other's and so close to applying pressure exactly where you both want it. “He's essentially given his blessing.”

“He has?” He doesn't fully believe you; that doesn't sound like the Joshua he knows, but he's a weak-ass man when it comes to you. Literally, he already decided he'd do some insane things from the moment he first saw your ass while he was checking you out in the fire engine the other day.

So he lifts his hands to initially settle on your hips but they very quickly, almost immediately, slide down to settle in your back pockets. Not quite touching you up but pretty fucking close.

“Mm, well, blessing isn't the right word. I told him that he's fucked enough of my friends that he has no say in which of his friends I fuck.”

“Do you plan to fuck any of his other friends?” He raises an eyebrow and tugs you a little closer.

“He doesn't have any friends,” you retort and he huffs a short laugh. “Just Jihoon, right? I mean, he does look really fucking good blond so-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence, princess,” Seungcheol mutters darkly, almost glaring at you in warning. You bite back a grin. “So I'll ask again; do you plan to fuck any of Shua's other friends?”

“Depends on if you disappoint me or not, doesn't it, Chief?” You tease while winding your arms around his neck with a playful smile.

“You're never going to want to fuck anyone else when I'm done with you.”

“That bad, huh?” His face drops. It takes everything in you to not crack up laughing. “Going to put me off sex in general?”

“Shua's right; you're a fucking brat.”

“Mm, yeah,” you confirm shamelessly and press against him entirely. “Kinda think you're into it though, Chief.”

“Is that going to be a thing? Calling me Chief? Or do you just not know my name?” He wonders, head tilting a little and one arm wrapping tight around your waist, while his thigh between yours pushes up between your legs making your eyes light up with joy.

Finally you have him.

“I know your name, but shouldn't I call the boss by his title?” You coo faux-innocently.

“"I'm the boss, huh?” You nod and he smirks. “Damn fucking right, baby.”

Seungcheol doesn't wind up pinning you to the couch, not right away at least. He does, however, take you upstairs to the office and bend you over the desk until you have bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips and nothing but his name on your tongue.

And as it turns out; he was right. You never want to fuck anyone but him again.

A/N- I know this reads like it should end in smut and I did intend to write it but I'm very certain I would not do the vibes justice, I'm so out of practice with smut. But maybe in the future? But if you want some good smut, go read sluttywoozi's stuff fr, you will not be disappointed

Anyway, I hope you liked, please let me know what you think& reblog!

[vettelsvee]

CLIFFORD AND EMILY | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer girlfriend!reader

word count: 3195

summary: y/n tells seb that it would be a great present for his birthday to adopt a puppy, and they find the perfect one

warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. dad ferrari!seb as i can't get rid of him. based on 2018 season and narrated on seb's pov

a/n: once again, this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited) and translated by cele! changed my layout to my comfort people so are you like it? also, as always, i'll be waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated guys! tysm <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Normally, I didn't have trouble getting up in the mornings, especially during Grand Prix weekends, but today it had been incredibly hard to leave Y/N and Emily sleeping.

Maybe the problem was that today was my birthday, and, in part, we couldn't spend it like a normal family. I didn't mind working on such a special day, but it did bother me when I thought it was my first birthday with Emily.

Very reluctantly, I decided to start my day, trying not to let my bad mood consume me. As soon as I set foot on the floor, I adjusted the sheets to cover my girlfriend, taking the utmost care not to wake her. Nights with our daughter were exasperating, and I didn't know how Y/N managed to be at one hundred percent during team meetings, press conferences, free practice sessions, qualifying and the race, and especially the briefings and all the data analysis her job entailed.

I trained with Eddie for just an hour and a half. According to him, my birthday present was a less strict training session; even so, we ran a lap around the block where the hotel was located, and then we went straight to the gym.

At half-past seven in the morning, to my good fortune, he told me I could go back to my room to get ready for that Friday.

I entered as quickly as I could, being very careful because it was still quite early, and I assumed my girls would be resting. Deep down, I knew that wasn't going to be the case, so I wasn't surprised to see Y/N, still in her pyjamas, walking back and forth while breastfeeding Emily and trying to eat a piece of toast.

“God!” She quickly swallowed the bite and pretended she hadn't been eating. I couldn't help but laugh at how cute the scene seemed to me. “I'm so sorry, Seb. I had ordered breakfast to be brought up and ready for when you came, but I was so hungry and wasn't sure when Eddie would let you go today…”

I shook my head and approached her. I left a short kiss on her lips and then placed another on my daughter's forehead.

“Happy birthday, sunshine,” she said, wrapping her free arm around me. “How many birthdays have we spent together now? Eight?”

“Seven,” I corrected her, remembering we didn’t get to spend the 2008 one together. “And I hope there will be more because I'm not going to let you get rid of me anytime soon.”

“Do you really think I'm going to get rid of you so soon? In case you don't remember, we not only work together: we also share a house, a cat, a daughter, and we're going to have a dog…”

After that last part, Y/N let out a small scream and covered her mouth with her hand.

If I was the one who could keep secrets perfectly, Y/N Y/L/N was the complete opposite.

“What do you mean by a dog, Y/N?”

“Oh, well, I don't know… I must have mixed up some conversation I had with Aristella about Cherry,” her nerves were quite noticeable. “I got confused, and…”

“Y/N, I know you perfectly, and I know when you're lying to me. What did you mean by we’re going to have a dog?”

Given my insistence and, why not say it, the poker face I probably had, my girlfriend sighed. She placed Emily in the crib next to our bed and, while asking me to sit down and start having breakfast, took her mobile phone and immersed herself in it.

“Well, you see…” she began, sitting in front of me and taking a strawberry in her hands. “Since you adopted Vanilla as a surprise for me, I've been thinking that I would like to do the same for you, but between the chaotic 2013 we had and Emily's birth, I found it a bit impossible. It's also true that it's something I would like to discuss before doing it because it's a matter that depends not only on me but also on you,” she clarified.

“And that means…?”

“Forget it, Seb. It doesn't matter. I haven't told you anything, okay? Forget it.”

It bothered me to see her so indecisive, though it didn’t stop me from finding her idea quite endearing deep down. I knew she was nervous; the constant fiddling with the napkin and her flushed cheeks were proof of that.

“Do you want to adopt a dog?” I asked her, loud and clear.

“It’s not that I want to adopt a dog. Well, I do, but…” she sighed, stopped eating breakfast, and looked at me directly. “The thing is, I know you’d like to have a dog, and you’ve had that idea in your head for quite some time, so I thought that, only if you want, we could adopt one,” she finally explained.

“Do you want to wait until we get back home? If you want, we can talk to Michael and have him recommend…”

“No, no, not at all! I’ve already talked to Lewis about it, and he’s informed me,” she hastened to clarify. “Since I wanted to do all this, if possible, today, I asked him where he adopted Roscoe and Coco. I thought today was the perfect day for the adoption because it’s your birthday,” she repeated.

I nodded as I got up and headed towards Emily’s crib, who had started crying once more.

“I mean, all this is only if you want, of course,” Y/N spoke again. Before I could respond, she interrupted me once more. “But if you want, we can do it when we get back home. I don’t mind, except I wouldn’t have another birthday present to give you…”

Still holding the baby in my arms, I approached her and silenced her with a long, slow kiss, one I took my time with but received no complaints about, quite the opposite.

Y/N always went out of her way with gifts, even during times when her finances weren't the best. I much preferred her giving me something symbolic over an expensive whim.

So, the fact that she wanted to adopt a dog today, as my birthday present, made this thing I had wanted for so long even more special. Plus, thinking that Emily would grow up with the new member of the family made it a thousand times better.

“If my girl says it’s happening today, then we should follow her lead,” I finished saying. “What time do you think we’ll be done with everything we have to do today?”

[...]

“I hope there aren’t too many people, because if Britta finds out we’re doing all this without telling her…”

“Y/N, relax. If there’s any problem or anything, I’ll handle the press. Besides, it’s not like they don’t know me: remember I adopted Roscoe and Coco there, so they know me quite well.”

Lewis had decided to come with us to, according to him, ensure his friends received proper treatment. Deep down, I knew it was because he didn’t want to see Aristella, Britta’s niece and Y/N's best friend, hanging around Rosberg even while they were in the middle of their divorce process.

Hamilton’s concern for the girl wasn’t just something a friend would have, and I knew he was fully aware of that.

“Do you have something in mind, Seb?”

Lewis’s voice snapped me out of my trance.

“Sorry, what?”

“If you’ve thought of a name for the dog,” the dark-haired man spoke again. “I hope it’s something different from the usual. You know, the world has too many Tobys and all those common dog name variants.”

“If we’re talking about giving common names to pets, Seb is your guy,” Y/N spoke now, almost shouting. “When he adopted Vanilla just to get me to move in with him, he told me Garfield was a better name. Garfield, like the cartoon cat! If that’s not common…”

“What do you want to call an orange cat, Y/N? Vanilla? I remind you that you wanted to name her Cheeto…”

“Because she looked like a Cheeto and I thought it was a male!” she retorted. “Later, when I realised she was female and not so orange, I named her Vanilla.”

“Vanilla, I like it. It’s an… interesting name,” Lewis intervened. “Can I ask why you named her like that?”

“Y/N's favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla. That, and if you add the fact that cats are her favourite animal…” I answered in her place.

I saw Y/N's lips curve slightly in the rear-view mirror.

Then, she turned around and put a hand on my leg, stroking it.

“I hope you find the perfect name for the new family member, love. Even if it’s the same as every other dog in the world,” she said ironically.

After those words, I realised we had arrived at the shelter Lewis Hamilton seemed to admire so much.

The Brit, as he guided us towards what appeared to be the entrance, commented that we should be careful with Emily, not because the furry ones were aggressive, but because they got very excited when they had visitors, especially if they were children.

A dark-skinned woman with completely dark hair was at the door, as if she had been waiting for us for a while. Lewis gave her a hug and immediately introduced us.

“These are Sebastian Vettel, his girlfriend Y/N, and their daughter, Emily.”

She gave us a smile, and I saw she intended to shake our hands until she saw our little one. She approached to dote on her as soon as Y/N gave her permission with a glance. Emily’s laughter began to fill the room, and she started to move cheerfully in Y/N's arms.

“I’m so sorry for my lack of manners, but when I see such a beautiful baby like this little one…” the woman began to say, still playing with the child. Then, she cleared her throat and looked at both of us. “Nice to meet you, couple,” she finally shook our hands. “I’m Jade, and well, I’ve been a volunteer at this shelter since time immemorial, back in the prehistoric times.”

“Don’t say that, Jade! You look wonderful,” Lewis told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t be so flattering, young man,” she chided him. “I appreciate all kinds of compliments for my age, but that’s not why we’re here. Well, tell me: if I’m not mistaken, and as your friend here has told me, you want to expand your family, right?”

Now she was looking intently at both of us. I nodded in response; at the same time, and by inertia, my right arm wrapped around my girlfriend’s waist, which made Emily start reaching out her little arms to come to me.

“Today is Seb’s birthday, and he’s been wanting to adopt a dog for quite some time,” my girlfriend explained.

“Oh, the adoption is a birthday gift!” Jade exclaimed, beginning to clap and approaching me quickly to give me a hug that I gladly accepted. “Happy birthday, dear! How old are you now?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Oh, dear. If I could be that age again…”

I smiled at her response as Y/N handed me Emily, who had started babbling to come to me.

“A daddy’s girl, I see, huh?” Jade chimed in. Y/N was about to answer, but before she could even do so, the woman was already speaking again. “Well, since it’s your birthday, I think I have the perfect gift for you.”

Without saying anything more, the woman gestured for us to follow her, and we did. We passed through several areas with dogs of different ages roaming freely, who approached us to sniff and perhaps convince us to adopt them.

Lewis mentioned that some of them were related to Coco. I laughed at the supposed joke, which stopped being a joke when Jade confirmed it. Y/N lagged behind a few times because she stopped to play with the dogs that approached her, which were quite a few. Emily and I, however, kept a brisk pace, possibly eager to find out what the woman was talking about and why she was being so mysterious.

Finally, we arrived at a kind of room with less light than I expected and, to my surprise, full of what seemed to be soft little beds. On top of them, not only was there a dog lying down that seemed quite tired, but there were also several puppies nursing from her.

Jade indicated before we entered that we should remain silent.

“One of our dogs gave birth last night,” she told us. “I don’t want to give all her puppies up for adoption since I’d like at least one to stay with her, but considering that the puppies and you share a birthday, I’d be delighted if you adopted one of them.”

I opened my eyes wide and couldn’t say anything. Next to me, Y/N seemed to have reacted the same way I did.

Saying we were surprised would be an understatement.

“But… are you serious?” my girlfriend commented, still in surprise.

“Of course, dears!” the woman responded cheerfully. “The only issue, so to speak, though it’s not really a problem, is that it’ll take about a month and a half before you can take him home. You know, the separation process from the mother is crucial.”

“No problem, really. We’ll wait as long as it takes,” I finally spoke. “Besides, I think we have a break around that time, right?”

“Yes, about a month,” Lewis replied.

“We’ve already got our vacation destination, sunshine,” Y/N said to me, apparently much more excited than I was.

“Now, I need you to tell me something important: which one of them do you want to be your little girl’s new brother?”

Still holding Emily, Y/N and I carefully approached the puppies.

To our eyes, they all looked exactly the same. We couldn’t see their eyes, but I was almost convinced they would be similar to the colour of their fur, a light brown skin similar to beach sand. They were huddled together and didn’t seem to be doing anything other than trying to nurse for as long as possible.

“Do you know what breed or mix they are?” Y/N asked the lady with that characteristic curiosity of hers.

“If I remember correctly, their mother is a golden retriever and their father, a big labrador.”

My girlfriend thanked her, turning towards her and leaving Emily by herself for a moment. At that point, seemingly unaware that her mother wasn't watching her every move, the little one began to crawl towards the puppies. Instinctively, I quickly scooped her up in my arms to prevent her from doing so. However, she didn't seem to give up: she started kicking until, just like that, I brought her a little closer to the furry animals.

While Y/N and Lewis chatted with Jade, I remained seated on the floor next to my daughter, who seemed to have settled on a particular puppy. I tried shifting her gaze from side to side, attempting to get her to notice the rest of them, but it seemed the one farthest from its mother had caught her attention the most.

“I think Emily has chosen who’s going to be her adopted sibling, hasn’t she?” I remarked.

As soon as I said that, the three of them turned towards me, crouching down to my level. Emily was still engrossed with that little one and seemed to continue being so until we left.

“Have you chosen for Daddy, Emi?” Y/N asked, almost lying on the floor to join the game that Emily was playing with the one who seemed to be our new child. “Do you want this to be your new little brother? Or sister, of course.”

“He's a boy, actually,” Jade intervened. “And, if I’m honest and don't recall incorrectly, he’s the oldest of the whole litter.”

“Do you want to adopt this little one then, sunshine? Honestly, if you’re not convinced we can wait a bit…” Y/N whispered as if wanting it to be a secret between us.

“Clifford,” I suddenly blurted out.

They looked at me as if they had seen a ghost. Of course, I would act the same if someone dropped a name out of nowhere in a situation like this.

“I want to name him Clifford,” I clarified. “Remember the series about that big red dog you told me you watched with your sisters when they were little?” I asked my girlfriend, who nodded. “Well, if I remember correctly, you told me that the main character of the series, who was also the owner of the dog, was named Emily.”

“What’s that got to do with it, love?” she asked, curious. Did she really not know why I had suggested that name?

“Well, it just so happens that your daughter is named Emily and she seems to have chosen for us.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up and widened exaggeratedly. I swear I saw them get a little misty when she finally seemed to understand what I meant. Immediately, she stood up, took the baby in her arms, and began to talk to her while they played as if they were the only ones in the room.

“I guess I already have a birthday present, right?” I asked the redhead, standing beside her and giving her a kiss on the forehead and another to our daughter.

“Emily and Clifford…” she murmured. “I like it. I love it, actually.”

“Well, I hope that when we have the next baby, I can nail it in the same way.”

Jade, after the last sentence that I had just said, was left dumbfounded. Lewis, for his part, tried to turn a deaf ear and, instead, told me that they would be waiting for us at the entrance to do all the necessary paperwork, not without whispering to me in the least blatant way possible that he hoped that this would be my other birthday present.

Obviously, he deserved a well-deserved punch from Y/N.

“Are you already thinking about the next baby, love? Emily hasn’t even turned one yet!”

“I always think about the second baby, to be honest,” I replied. I was convinced, and I knew as well as she did that we had barely laid the foundations of our family. “A puppy brother for Emily is fine, but a human one would be a thousand times better. Don’t you think so?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned away, heading towards the shelter entrance. I quickly caught up with her, and her laughter filled my ears.

“If you're already thinking about our second baby, then we'll have to listen to Lewis and start practising tonight before dinner with my parents,” she suggested.

Her mischievous look infected me, and I couldn’t help but return it.

“As the birthday boy, I vote for squeezing in a free practice session before dinner with my parents tonight. How does that sound?”

“Whatever you wish, birthday boy,” she replied. “But I hope you come up with a good enough excuse for them not to suspect anything when we arrive late, and also when you ask if they can keep Emily overnight.”

[trashcanfanfics]

i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time

I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)

Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit

Angel Dust:

You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.

Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.

The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.

You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.

On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.

"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.

"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.

"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.

"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.

"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.

"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.

Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.

"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.

"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.

You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.

"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.

Blitz:

All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.

"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.

Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite

You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??

Blitz Baby <3: Asking

You: Then yes ;*

Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*

You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.

The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.

Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up

You: Aw what?? :( Okay...

Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short

You: Okay

Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.

Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.

A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.

"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.

"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.

"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.

"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.

The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.

"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."

"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.

"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!

"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.

"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.

"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.

Husk:

All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.

Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.

"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.

"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.

"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.

"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.

"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.

"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.

"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.

"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.

"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.

"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.

Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.

"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.

Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.

"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.

"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.

"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.

[livwritesstuff]

boston pride is today so here have an edited repost from when i walked in the parade last year

Steve is getting boring in his old age (forty-four, almost).

It was inevitable, he supposes when he looks back, and he likes being boring. 

He likes the steady routine of the life he and Eddie (married for seven years, now) have built with their three daughters (four, seven, and nearly ten, a notion Steve is choosing to ignore because there’s no goddamn way Moe nearly has an entire decade under her belt already), and he doesn’t find himself making attempts to mix things up all that often.

Naturally, Eddie is the one to suggest they make the trip into Boston with their daughters for the annual Pride parade, and when he does, Steve isn’t automatically inclined to agree.

Look – Steve knows it’s important for kids to see the world and do new things and all that enriching shit, but maybe he still bears some of the scars from keeping a semi-feral pack of teenagers alive amidst the eldritch hellscape of their hometown, and it’s not like they don’t keep themselves entertained at home – Hazel had finally got the gist of Go-Fish not too long ago and that’s been a whole new ballgame Steve is perfectly content to continue exploring.

In the end, however, the logical side of him (and Eddie’s ever-persistent badgering) wins out, and come mid-June of 2011, they all make the drive into Boston to see the parade.

It doesn’t take Steve long at all to acknowledge that it was a good idea. He hadn’t been to Pride in many years (again – he’s boring in his old age), and he’d forgotten how much fun it is – a true celebration of love and happiness in the face of a lot of fucked up shit and all that. The parade’s pretty good too (definitely a few floats he hopes the girls are too distracted chasing after candy to notice and ask questions about later, but only time will tell), and so is the festival afterwards. It ends up being a really great time for all of them.

Of the whole day, though, Steve’s favorite part is the trip home, a drive that should have only been thirty minutes, but turns into nearly two hours with all the traffic on I-90.

The girls are still riding the sugar rush of an afternoon’s worth of lemonade and fried dough and candy thrown from parade floats (Hazel might be succumbing though, if Steve’s quick glances in the rear-view mirror at the way her eyes are drooping closed are anything to go off of), and it seems as if the day’s contagious joy had followed them into the car. Robbie and Moe have been asking a lot of questions – mostly chatter about what floats were everyone’s favorites and who got the best face paint until Moe, perceptive as she’s always been, hits them with, “What’s Pride for?”

Which turns into, “Why do people think it’s a bad thing?” and that becomes, “So how did you and Papa fall in love?” at which point Eddie, who’d been fielding their daughters' questions so Steve could keep his focus on the stop-and-go highway traffic, launches into a dramatic and involved retelling of how their relationship had begun nearly eighteen years ago.

“So I told him that I liked him and what do you think Papa said?” Eddie eventually asks as he approaches the end of the story.

“What?” the girls ask with eager smiles and wide eyes.

“Nothing,” Eddie says ruthlessly, a wicked grin on his face.

“Alright,” Steve cuts in over the laughter coming from the backseat, “Let’s not be dramatic. I said something...eventually, and it wasn’t even that long later – four hours tops.”

“That’s right,” Eddie concedes, “And then we all lived happily ever after and all that jazz.”

“Good,” Robbie says, “’Cos if you hadn’t, today wouldn’t happen.”

“Hate to break it to you, sweet pea,” Steve replies, “but I’m pretty sure Pride would still happen even if Dad and I weren’t there for it.”

“We wouldn’t be here," Moe corrects him, "All together.”

Steve blinks.

Jesus Christ, these kids are gonna be the death of him. Can’t drive the damn car if his eyes are misting over, can he?

“Yeah,” Eddie says as he reaches over to curve his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, “Yeah, bug, that’s true.”

And thanks goodness for that.

[thebiggerbear]

Something Real

Summary: You had offered him the chance for something the two of you could build, something real, if he gave up the suit for good.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, character death, implied violence, implied injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of terminal illness/treatments/effects, implied sex, Soldier Boy being himself at times, language (I guess?), tears, heartbreak - I think that pretty much covers everything

Word Count: 9434

A/N: Something I started writing back on Thanksgiving. I was hurting that day, needing heat to ease the pain, and I was working on something else for SB. This just popped into my head (the idea of "warm hands") so I ran with it. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I picked the name Violet because it's a bit of a reference to the other SB story I'm working on. Please let me know what you think (and please don't kill me).

I heard this song on a Soldier Boy fan edited video on YouTube and ever since then I can't get it out of my head for this one shot. It just makes me see Ben and the reader that much clearer in my mind.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

“I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Ben could feel his devastation threatening to overwhelm him but he quickly forced it away. He had to be strong for you; no time to be a pussy.

As if you had heard his thoughts, you gave him a sad smile, your own eyes starting to blur with unshed tears that you were trying to hold back yourself, not wanting to make this worse for him than you already knew it would be. But then it suddenly hit you that life was indeed short; what did it matter if you let your feelings surrounding your current circumstances show? You had never held back before. Why would you start now? So you let your tears flow but you did your best to turn them into happy tears so whenever he thought back to this moment, he wouldn’t see how scared or sad you really were. You were determined for him to never know the true depths of your fear or despair in this moment.

Instead, you weakly lifted your hand and placed it against his cheek, watching as he briefly closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His green gaze settled on you once more and you could have sworn you could see a slight shimmer there but in the next moment, it was gone, so you couldn’t be entirely sure. 

Both of you were having flashes of the same memories that your words brought to mind. 

You were both in bed, naked, you laying sprawled out over him, having just made love for the second time that evening. Ben always called it fucking but you refused to use that word to describe what the two of you did. Sure, he fucked you sometimes but things were more serious between you than you just being a bedwarmer of his or some random pussy for him to stick his dick into and get off as he’d crudely put it. 

They had been ever since you’d caught him by surprise one night after too much whiskey mixed with conversation and you kissed him ever so sweetly. He’d tried to turn it into something else — because he was who he was after all — but you wouldn’t let him. Something changed between you that night and an understanding began to form. If he wanted you, then he’d have to give up everything that wouldn’t allow him to keep you. That meant the women, the drugs, the bad behavior — all of it. You weren’t trying to change him, not at all, but you knew those things weren’t really the true make-up of who he was; it was a mere reflection of the suit and persona Vought encouraged, expected, and enforced. Ben made his own choices of course, but you knew he could do better, be better. And that’s who you wanted; that’s who you loved — the man that belonged with you, not the Supe that belonged to a greedy corporation and the world. But it would have to be up to him to make that final choice. You made that perfectly clear and told him to come to you when he was ready, ready for something real.

And sure enough, despite his keeping away for a while to prove a point, he eventually ended up on your doorstep that night three years ago, dressed in modern day clothing and cleaned up in all manners of the phrase. Ben was ready. He wanted you, he wanted real and most of all, he wanted it with you. 

You’d been together ever since and while things hadn’t been perfect, they’d been perfect enough for the both of you. So here you were, laid out in bliss, listening to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear as his hands glided up and down your bare back. You closed your eyes, smiling, and murmured, “I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Instead of answering you, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there, as he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer into him. He held you like that for a little while until you could feel him stirring beneath you once more and his caresses turned more insistent before he rolled you onto your back, his kisses feverish as you both started your third round of lovemaking for the night. Supe stamina and all that.

You winced as you felt another sharp kick to your stomach. “Damn,” you muttered.

Ben’s eyes were immediately on you, worried. “What?”

“Nothing,” you tried to lie but another kick had you flinching. 

He laid down the wrench he had been battling the pipes with and wiped his hands with a rag before making his way over to you. “The kid kicking you again?”

A third kick had your face screwed up in a grimace as you nodded. His jaw tightened and he urged you down onto the sofa before joining you and holding you from behind. He lifted your shirt above your belly and you both watched in fascination as there was a slight movement to it right before you hissed in pain and bit your lip to keep from crying out. Ben lowered his hands and began to rub your skin soothingly. The pain eased and like always, your baby started to settle down, something it did whenever it sensed its father’s strong presence. You assumed it was a Supe thing, since your kid would have half of those V-mutated genes, and you refused to let that worry you in the slightest. There was no guarantee your child would have superpowers like its dad though you wouldn’t be surprised if it inherited his strength if these painful kicks were anything to go by. Either way, you’d cross that superpower bridge if and when you came to it. 

You let out a breath of relief and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against Ben’s shoulder. “I seriously forgot how warm your hands are,” you whispered, enjoying how the warmth both settled your child and you at the same time.

“Don’t know how,” he murmured into your ear. “I hardly ever take them off you.”

You smiled wider at his teasing and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, humming your contentment. After a moment, you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an affectionate smirk. You lifted up and gently kissed him. “I love you.”

His smirk melted into a smile and he leaned down to kiss you one more time. “Back at you, doll.”

And almost as if your child wanted a say, to agree with the sentiments exchanged between both parents, it kicked against Ben’s hand albeit more gently this time, not causing any pain.

You grinned as you watched Ben teach your daughter, Violet, how to make a snowman. Which really meant he was making it for her. She had her father completely wrapped around her little finger. If there was anything that could bring Soldier Boy to his knees, it was his little girl. The strongest Supe in the world was at the mercy of the whims of your six year old.

You both had been surprised when the child you’d both eagerly been anticipating turned out to be a girl. You were excited — you’d always wanted a little girl. Ben — you weren’t sure how he would react. His heart had been set on a boy and while you could see a faint layer of disappointment shadowing his expression when you heard the doctor’s announcement, the moment he and your newborn daughter locked eyes, he was hers. It turned out you had nothing to worry about, on any counts.

He had promised you he would be better than his father and thus far he’d lived up to that promise. While you both had discussed extensively what type of parenting style you’d be implementing, you weren’t sure what would happen when the tough days of parenthood would hit. And while he had come a long way from his antiquated mindset (which had been beyond painful for the both of you back in the early days of you moving in together), you wanted to make sure that none of that would ever touch your child, literally and figuratively. But it turned out, you really had nothing to worry about. There were only a few instances that you had to gently remind him that it wasn’t the 1940’s anymore and each time he’d apologized, and set about making it right however he could.

Ben pleasantly surprised you in being there for all of the night time feedings, being willing to change a diaper after you’d eventually forced the issue and he found out that it wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be, and taking her from you so you could sleep, shower, or get some time for yourself when he realized he wouldn’t break her. Her tiny form made him nervous and all the more careful. He held her hand when she started walking, read to her at bedtime (even though he secretly told you later there was a lot of pussy bullshit stories the world had available for kids these days), and beamed when one night she’d sleepily hugged him and whispered that Daddy was her hero after a particular conversation they’d had about a story he was reading, when she asked why the main character was going to fight the dragon. “Because he’s the hero, sweetness, and heroes fight the monsters.” You’d found him later standing at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep, an expression of sadness mixed with realization in his face. 

You’d wrapped yourself around his arm, hugging him, as you joined him in his study of your daughter. “You okay?” You whispered after a moment.

He looked unsure how to answer you so you gave him a little time to think of what he wanted to say, smiling as you noticed your daughter’s quiet breathing, her little lips curled up in the cutest pout as she dreamed — of what you had no idea but you hoped it was warm and wonderful and everything she could possibly want in her four and a half years of life.

“She said I was her hero,” Ben admitted quietly.

You turned to glance up at him and caught the furrow of his brows. 

“I’m not really a hero, though.” He pressed his lips together. “Not with the things I’ve done.”

You slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers, and squeezed. “Then be one.”

His eyes snapped over to you in question.

You gently framed his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Ever since you decided you wanted something different from what you had before, you have made better decisions every single day. Who you were back then, Ben…that’s not who you are now. So if you want to be a hero,” You briefly glanced at your sleeping daughter. “Her hero, then be one.” 

Ben contemplated your words as you released him and his eyes drifted over the child that had somehow carved herself into his heart in a way that the fucked-up Homelander or the idea of any kid of his that possibly existed out there never had. He was already trying every single day to be better, for her, for you, for himself — and it was something he would keep doing.

“But just so you know,” you whispered to him. “No matter if you wear the suit or you’re just plain ol’ Daddy who reads her stories and threatens the monsters in her closet before she goes to bed each night, you’re already going to be her hero.” You gave him a soft smile and watched as your words played out upon his face. His lips lifted up slightly in the corners and he ran his tender glance over his little girl. It surprised you though when he then turned that smile and gaze onto you.

He marveled at just how simple you made it all sound sometimes. Not that you hadn’t acknowledged his effort or the strides he’d made in attempting to be a better father than his old man — a better man period — but he secretly admired when you gave it to him straight, no bullshit, no matter the subject. And while he wanted his daughter to always see him as the hero she called him earlier, he was grateful that you made sure to make such a distinction in your words: he didn’t have to put the suit back on to be his little girl’s hero. That’s not who she saw him as anyway. She saw him as her hero because he was her dad — and that was enough for her. 

There were times like this where he’d remember exactly why he chose to give everything up for you, why he chose you. You’d seen past the suit, past his public persona, saw all of the good and even more of the bad, and yet you still chose him first, still loved him, and still gave him the family he’d been craving even if it wasn’t how he’d imagined it for years on end. You gave him exactly what you’d promised if he chose you back: something real. And Christ did he love you for it.

Ben had never been very good at saying the three words that seemed to take no effort whatsoever to roll off your tongue every single day, even when it came to your daughter. While he might have had no issue speaking his mind back in the day, when it came to the two important things in his life, he struggled to put into words exactly how he felt about you two or to return the sentiment because it was unfathomable to him. He had never known that he could feel the love he did as a husband, a true partner, never mind as a parent. You both were his world and he wasn’t sure how he’d function without either of you in it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he functioned before either of you came along though a small dark part of him knew the answer to that: booze, drugs, sex, violence, and enjoying the Supe high life all combined. But right now, he was feeling that overwhelming feeling again that he hesitated to put a name to but deep down knew what it was. However, instead of just being able to say it, just once, he did the second best thing like he did every time you made him feel like this: he showed you.

He took your hand in his, squeezing, and glanced once more at Violet. Noting again that she was sleeping soundly, he then turned his attention onto you and led you from the room. Once her door was shut, he was on you, his kisses passionate and insistent yet desperate, his hands hungrily trailing your body, before he picked you up and walked you down the hall to your bedroom. 

So watching him now making the snowman your daughter wanted — old hat, scarf, pipe, and all — you were amused but also couldn’t be prouder. Ben had heard you that night and he had chosen to be the hero his little girl wanted him to be: her dad while also being a good man and someone she could be proud of. It didn’t erase his past but it was just another step in the right direction towards his future. The suit was still hidden away in a closet but he hadn’t pulled it out for which you were also immensely grateful. Vought International and The Seven had been annihilated years ago at the same time Homelander had been killed. Supes had scattered across the globe, now not being run by one single entity anymore. Some had world governments after them for crimes they had committed previously and were still committing to this day. Compound V as well as Temp V had now unfortunately hit the streets so random fresh Supes were turning up everywhere. The world certainly had its hands full when it came to the whole Supe thing. Maybe it was incredibly selfish of you but you were relieved when Ben chose to stay out of the fray and instead concentrate on living the life he’d chosen to live with you and focus on your family.

Your grin grew when your daughter excitedly hurried over to you. “Mama, mama! Did you see the snowman Daddy made?”

“I did, kiddo. He looks great.” You arched a brow over at the snowman though when you noticed something. “Well, just a tiny bit lopsided, but that’s okay. It gives him character.”

Ben huffed, appearing next to you. “I don’t make lopsided snowmen.” He then turned to Violet. “Your mother needs to have her eyes checked.”

“Hey,” you cried out indignantly. “Who are you telling to get their eyes checked, old man? Considering it’s a lop-sided snowman, I say you should get yours checked.”

Ben flashed his teeth in a grin. “My eyes are perfect, like everything else about me.” You couldn’t help your eye roll though in your estimation, he wasn’t too far off the mark. Never aging thanks to Compound V would do that to someone you guessed. You tried not to be too envious when you remembered back to the few gray hairs you’d managed to find coming from your scalp a few weeks back. 

Violet was giggling watching the two of you and you couldn’t help but join in her merriment. “Sure,” you teased. “So instead of Frosty the Snowman, we’ll call him Skewy the Off-Balance Snowman?”

Ben sent you a mock glare and you shrugged, smiling, making your daughter laugh again. He handed an old ratty coat to her. “Vi, why don’t you put on the finishing touches so your mom can stop being a critic and finally appreciate our hard work?” 

“What? I am appreciating it. I even appreciate that you have to tilt your head a bit to see it straight. Off-kilter is all the rage now, I get it. See? I’m appreciating it.”

Your daughter grinned and took the proffered coat before rushing back over to the snowman.

Hands suddenly on your hips whipped you around and Ben was on you before you could utter another word. He kissed you hard and you swore you could see stars when he finally pulled back, letting you catch your breath. He smirked down at you, muttering “Pain in the ass” good-humoredly, before you both caught movement out of the corner of your eye. You both glanced over in time to see your daughter leap gracefully into the air to toss the coat onto the tall snowman. Ben’s smile was proud and you watched in awe as she landed lithely back down on the ground. As you had wondered often enough when pregnant with her, your daughter had inherited some Supe DNA from her father after all. Something you and Ben both worked hard with her to keep tamped down when in the presence of other children and especially their parents. Your life was blissfully lowkey, normal (as normal as it could be with two Supes in the house), and safe — you and Ben both wanted to keep it that way and you both especially wanted to make sure your daughter’s life continued in that fashion as well. You didn’t want your daughter to be ashamed of her special abilities and Ben was able to teach her restraint, something he had to teach himself long before she was born. 

Ben watched as she used her strength to shift the snowman a little to the left so it would indeed be a little straighter. He rolled his eyes at your triumphant smirk but his smile never left as he cupped your face between his hands. “There. Happy?”

“More than you know,” you answered honestly. His smile faded slightly when he realized you meant more than the adjustment to his recent snow creation. You saw an all-too familiar internal struggle play out in his eyes that you had seen often enough over the years, especially lately. When he was making love to you; when he quietly watched you and your daughter working on her homework together; when he found you in the kitchen late at night when you couldn’t sleep and without speaking you’d turn on a slow song from his era and hold out an expectant hand to him; when you wrapped your arms around him from behind in a hug and snuck in underneath his arm as both of you observed Violet playing out in the yard with the dog she’d managed to convince you both to get — you knew what that struggle was and while it might have bothered another spouse that he never properly vocalized his feelings, you more than understood. How could you not after you knew how Ben had grown up, what he’d been taught? He’d made tons of strides over the years to undo all of that programming, but this…this was the hardest for him, and you knew why. So you didn’t push and instead willingly took what he gave you, knowing he was doing the best he could to show you how he felt instead.

You pushed yourself up on your toes and kissed him. “I love you, too,” you whispered, letting him know it was okay; you knew. You felt his thumb glide along your bottom lip as he studied you intently, and you could feel the heat radiating on the sides of your face. “I always forget how warm your hands are.”

He gave you a suggestive smirk. “You better not have forgotten how warm the rest of me is.”

“Might need a reminder,” you murmured, leaning into him.

His smirk widened. “Then you’ll get one.” He kissed you and before you could get too carried away, the sounds of your daughter giggling and calling “Daddy” had you both pulling apart. “Later,” he promised, pecking your lips one last time before looking over at Violet and the snowman whose apparel had changed to wearing her coat and hat instead. 

Ben gave her an indulgent smile. “What’d you do, Princess?” Violet giggled again and her father shook his head as he headed over to her. You watched as he picked her up, tickling her and making her squeal in laughter, and you smiled. Life really didn’t get much better than this.

You laughed yourself when Violet tried to tickle Ben back. 

Not by a long shot. 

You gave your husband a tired smile when he walked into the room.

“Did she get to school okay?” You asked.

He nodded and removed his coat, hanging it up on the empty hook on the wall.

“And you gave her the envelope I left on the table, right? The one that had her pictures and money for the yearbook?”

“Yeah,” he gruffed out, taking the empty seat next to you and ignoring the curious stares directed his way. Ben was huge and even though he hadn’t been recognized in years, his hulking stature still attracted inquisitive gazes every now and then.

“Good. Thank you for doing that.”

He took your free hand and frowned when you involuntarily shivered. 

Your smile was immediately apologetic. “I always forget how warm your hands are.” You gently gestured to your head where a cold cap sat. “This is freezing so with your hands, it felt like I stuck mine over a fire for a second.”

His frown intensified but he let your hand go. 

“No, no, it’s fine.” You grabbed at his fingers and intertwined them with yours once again. “I like warm.” You then tried to give him a flirtatious smile. “You know that.”

His responding smile was more of a grimace but he kept his hand in yours. “There anything you need?”

You noticed that once again, he was hardly making eye contact with you while you were receiving treatment. You hated it when he did that though you understood. He hated to see you like this, knowing there was nothing he could do to help you. Correction, nothing you would let him do that is.

You’d found a lump in your breast during a self-exam and you’d gotten it checked out right away. More examinations and tests later, it was confirmed: you had cancer. Thankfully, it was not the aggressive kind but your doctor wanted to go after the tumor just as if it was anyway. Your daughter was only in high school; of course, you agreed to whatever plan the doctor suggested. So now here you were, getting chemo after a successful removal of the tumor. 

Ben and Violet had been worried but you assured them that you would be fine, even if you didn’t know that to be true. Ben kept it together in front of your daughter, but once she had gone to bed, you could tell that even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared shitless. He knew what cancer meant like everyone else but he didn’t understand the mechanics of the treatments you would be receiving or the rates of survival depending on the ability to remove the tumor and keeping it from spreading versus the percentage rate of success of said surgery and treatments. He asked you question after question after question which you tried your best to answer while trying to keep from falling apart yourself. Eventually, he got frustrated and assured you he would get a hold of some Compound V. Though the government was still currently fighting the sale of the drug on the black market, they had to have some locked away for evidence or testing or they were just simply hoarding it. And if that didn’t work, he planned to track some down and get you a vial. Even if it was only Temp V. 

You were horrified at this suggestion. “Ben, no. I’m not taking that stuff!”

“Why? It’ll make you healthy! It’ll get rid of this fucking cancer! Why wouldn’t you take it?”

“I can think of several reasons. If you break in somewhere to steal it, you can get caught and thrown into some max security prison or CIA black op site that I’ll never be able to get to, never mind being able to find, where they’ll keep you locked down with that gas! Or if you get it off of the street or from the black market, you have no idea if it’s been tampered with or if they’ve laced it with anything else. Temp V is completely out of the question, from a legit source or not. Not to mention, we don’t even know if this would work. It might not heal me or it could even kill me instead. That’s why!”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted. 

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it, Ben.”

His eyes were darker than usual and he looked as if he was about to say something that you probably would both end up regretting. And sure enough, he did. “You’re fucking taking it and that’s it.”

“Excuse me?” You hissed. “This is my life we’re talking about. My life, my decision!”

“We are your life, goddammit!” He roared. Your eyes began to burn as you held back tears and he noticed the familiar sheen in them. When he spoke next, his tone was a bit quieter but no less firm. “So, it’s our decision. You’re taking it and that’s final.”

He had stormed out of the house after that and you had burst into tears. You knew he could hear you but he didn’t come back. You’d cried out all of the fear and anguish and despair you’d felt since receiving your diagnosis. 

It was only later that night when Ben crawled into bed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his body, that he whispered an apology into your ear. You squeezed his forearm, letting him know you’d forgiven him. 

“If I can get a hold of some, will you please take it?” He begged.

You thought it over for a moment, weighed the risks heavily against the rewards that it could yield, and then shook your head. “No. It’s too risky. It could kill me, Ben. At least with the surgery and chemo, I have better odds.”

“What if I gave you some of my blood?” You heard his voice break near the end of his question and that shocked you. The entire time you’d known the man, he had never once cried. Not in front of you, at least. 

You slowly turned in his arms and while you didn’t see any tears, you saw the shimmer in his green eyes along with pure, unadulterated fear that you’d only seen rare glimpses of over the years: during your pregnancy; the birth; when Violet was a baby and he held her small body in his too big arms, afraid he might break her; when you’d gotten into that car accident on the way to Vi’s dance recital that left you with a few scrapes and bruises; the one time a new Supe in the making claimed to the media that he didn’t believe the death rumors and he was hunting Soldier Boy down in order to prove himself as the strongest Supe which ended up with Ben relocating your family to somewhere even more lowkey (you’d had to talk him out of going to find that damn kid and teaching him a lesson). But now, here it was, naked and laid out plain for you to see. You’d been right; he was scared shitless. 

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair and he briefly turned to kiss your wrist. “We have two different blood types. It wouldn’t work.”

“I could find a scientist that’ll make it work. With all of these watered-down Supes running around, you can’t tell me there isn’t another Vogelbaum out there somewhere studying them. I could nab him and make him help us.”

You gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t work like that. This isn’t something that can be fixed by some mad scientist or some miracle superhero-making drug.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please…” 

He laid a hand against your face and stared into your eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.” You heard the breaks in his voice again. 

A tear slipped down your cheek and he gently wiped it away with his thumb. “One day, you’re going to. Whether it’s now or later, it’s inevitable.”

You could see how hard that hit him, even though you both had known this truth for some time. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought up the possibility of you taking Compound V in your relationship and it wasn’t the first time you’d refused. 

He wanted to keep you with him, always. You didn’t want to live forever and once Violet came along, you definitely didn’t want to outlive your daughter. And that was only if the drug was successful and didn’t outright kill you. Not to mention, even if it was successful, who was to say that it would work for you the same way it worked for Ben? Perhaps you could still easily be killed or you would still age. Perhaps your abilities would be completely different to his. He’d offered to get you some Temp V to preview what it would do, but after what you’d seen happen to Billy Butcher from taking that stuff, you refused.

Now, having cancer, as much as that terrified you, you still didn’t want to risk it. The doctors knew you wanted to see your daughter graduate high school. That was enough for you, for now.

You’d watched as Ben compulsively swallowed and pulled you up to meet him. He kissed you and you could feel the desperation, this time layered by a whole new level of it. He’d made love to you that night, the most tender in his touches and movements since the accident. He took his time with you and even though fear clung thickly to both of you, by the end, you felt loved and cherished and warm.

Such a contrast to how you were feeling now. You let out another involuntary shiver and Ben frowned over at you. By now, he would have picked you up and deposited you on his lap, wrapping you in his embrace to warm you up. But he couldn’t due to the goddamn machine and tubing you were connected to. So instead, he got up and laid another blanket over you, leaning in to murmur into your ear, “When we get home, I’ll warm you up.”

He pulled back with a wicked smirk and you gave him a grateful smile before he returned to his seat. You knew he only meant that he would hold you until you warmed up or until he had to pick up your daughter. You were much too tired for anything else, especially after each treatment, something you hated but it couldn’t be helped. You missed being intimate with him, you missed having the energy to do your usual flurry of picking up after your family around the house, you missed being the one to take Violet to school every morning — you missed it all. You lived your life as normally as possible but the tiredness, the lack of energy, the sickness, the effects this drug had on your system…sometimes it was beyond frustrating and that was putting it nicely. But Ben and Vi had been there through it all, ready to help and step in wherever needed. Violet did her chores like always but she also helped her dad whenever he would allow her to. And Ben…well, he had really stepped up. There were zero complaints that men shouldn’t be doing the laundry or the cooking (something that had been a leftover contention point from the early days of your relationship). He did his best to help Vi with her schoolwork if she had any questions and you were napping. He did the picking up around the house now and he took care of you when you got sick, his nose no longer scrunching up at the smell of vomit (something you had noticed when you had morning sickness and he sat with you, rubbing your back; he later explained to you just how sharp his sense of smell was). He did everything you asked him to and even things you didn’t. He had been a pillar of strength and support that you hadn’t even known you’d needed in the beginning.  

When he took your hand again, you carefully lifted his and kissed the back of it. “I love you,” you whispered, smiling as you nuzzled his warm skin.

He watched you, a familiar struggle taking place inside of him as a tell-tale shimmer started in his eyes that he didn’t want you to see. By the time you opened yours and looked over at him, the shimmer was gone and a tender smile was in place. “Back at you, dollface.” He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, staying like that a bit longer than he usually would have. You thought he was telling you what he still couldn’t put into words and he was. But he was also doing his best to warm you up. He’d felt the cold when you’d kissed his hand and rubbed your lips against it. Cold wasn’t something he felt easily so if he felt it, then he knew just how cold you really were. He hated these treatments, how sick they made you, how cold those damn caps made you (at this point, he didn’t care if you lost your hair, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you and he just wanted you warm and alive), he hated that there wasn’t anything he could to make you better — he hated it all. He meant what he’d said to you, when he got you home, he was going to strip you both down and hold you under the thickest, biggest blanket he could find in your house until it was time to pick up Vi from soccer practice. Warming you up, now that was something he could do. Which is exactly why he made sure to keep his lips connected to yours until the ice cold feeling disappeared and some color came back into them. He stared into your eyes, making you a silent promise that he would always chase the cold away and he would keep you here with him, warm, for as long as he could.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, not caring in the least that you might have an audience with other patients and their family members or nurses. You loved Ben with everything you had; you didn’t care who knew it or even saw it.

“Oh, come on!”

You could hear Ben’s chuckle from the other room and you smiled.

“You cheated!”

“No, I didn’t,” Ben insisted, sounding offended.

“Yes, you did! Dad, admit it!”

“Oh and you didn’t? Those bombs came out of nowhere, right?”

You heard your daughter groan. “It’s battle mode, Dad. You’re supposed to battle it out!”

“We did and I won.” You could practically see the triumphant smile on your husband’s face.

“Yeah, by cheating. What do you think, Rose?”

You could hear the poor girl practically stuttering out her response, trying not to offend either party. “Uh, I think it was…pretty fair…”

“What?” Violet yelled. “You call what he did fair?”

“Y-Yes?”

Ben let out another chuckle. “I knew I liked you, kid.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. The two most competitive members of your family had decided to play a video game while you were cooking to help pass the time. Vi had offered to help but you shooed her away since she had brought a friend home with her for the holiday. Ben had looked over at you expectantly, wondering what you would ask him to do, but you’d simply put a beer in his hand and sent him off to entertain the girls. He’d tried to hide his relief as he made his escape but you saw right through him. Thankfully, he didn’t see your own relief. You loved that Ben would do whatever you asked of him when it came to the kitchen, but sometimes he had his own way of doing things (from the time you’d been sick) and it clashed with yours. So, for a meal this large, as much as you loved him, you’d prefer for him to be out of the way. While it was a lot of work, your time to yourself in here was peaceful and you were amused at the bickering you overheard between Ben and Vi. Video games, board games, puzzles — it didn’t matter. If they were involved, there was bound to be claims of cheating by one of them or both, and massive competitive drives. You’d learned long ago to let them battle it out while you would be happy to be in 3rd place in Mario Kart or own St. Charles Place and maybe a railroad during a round of Monopoly. Most of all, though, you loved spending time with your two favorite people in the world, whether they were bickering over a game or competing against each other for a pixelated trophy on the television screen.

You heard voices start to rise slightly, Violet’s in particular. Someone else might have been nervous, especially for the young girl who was your guest, considering two Supes were locking horns, but you weren’t worried. Vi was now in college and thankfully, you’d been in remission for a couple of years. If your family had managed to survive that, you knew they’d overcome any argument over something as silly as who won a race between a plumber and a mushroom man. 

But just in case, you called out, “Guys, remember it’s just a game, please. We have a guest.” 

Sure enough, Violet lowered her voice but you could still hear her accusing her father who scoffed his denials. You rolled your eyes in amusement. 

It wasn’t long before you felt strong arms wrap around you from behind, and lips pressed against your neck. “And the victor returns,” you murmured, smiling and leaning back into him. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ben hummed against your skin. “He wants his spoils.” You felt him attempting to lift the hem of your dress and you slapped his hands away.

“Ben,” you hissed. “Not right now with our daughter and her friend in the next room.”

He didn’t let you deter him; he was determined. “Then let’s go upstairs while this bird cooks. The kids can entertain themselves for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?” You teased. “You mean like this morning?”

Ben had sweet talked you into sneaking out to the garage after you set everything up and put the turkey in the oven. He’d had you up against the hood of your car, his hand covering your mouth as he went to town on you, both of you in a hurry because he’d heard your daughter starting to wake up on the floor above you. 

Instead of being insulted or rolling his eyes and glaring over at you, a dirty smirk settled onto his face. “Mmm, that was hot. You were hot. So hot I want to lift this dress up and do that thing with my—”

A loud throat clearing coming from the other room had you both straightening up. Right. Your daughter shared super senses with her father. Whoops. “Uh, Mom? Is dinner ready yet?”

“Uh.” You quietly cleared your throat yourself as you moved away from Ben, making him frown. “Not for another two hours or so.” You had just checked the turkey before you’d been interrupted. 

“Okay, well, Rose and I are going to go walk outside for a bit. We’ll be back.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Be careful and make sure to take your coats. It’s cold out,” you warned.

Violet laughed. “Yes, Mom.”

She must have said something too quiet for you to hear because Ben suddenly went rigid. “Listen to your mother,” he added for good measure.

Another laugh. “Sure, Dad.”

You continued prepping dinner and once you heard the front door shut, Ben was on you. “Ben,” you laughed. “I don’t have time!”

He picked you up and moved you to the one area of counter space that wasn’t covered. “Yeah, you do. There’s always time for a quickie.���

“A quickie? Another one of Ben’s infamous life rules?”

He lifted the skirt of your dress over your thighs and quickly worked your underwear down your legs. “Another one of my infamous life rules with you.” You and Ben were used to having the house to yourselves so anywhere, anytime had become a sort of routine you two had. You missed Violet tremendously but you also had time to physically reconnect with your husband.

Almost as if he heard the direction your thoughts were going in, he framed your face with his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. 

You gave him a grateful smile. The truth was, while you were grateful to be in remission and for more time with your family, you had worried about the toll chemo had taken on your body as well as your sex drive. The doctor assured you that while it would take time, there was a good chance you would start to feel normal again. Ben had been understanding but you had been frustrated. However, the doctor was right; it took a while but you started to feel back to normal, libido included. 

Luckily, you hadn’t lost a lot of your hair, the cold caps having helped, and once the treatments were over, whatever was gone did indeed grow back. Unfortunately, a lot of gray hair also came with it. You’d wanted to dye it back to your original color but Ben urged you not to. “You look fucking sexy as hell with it,” he’d murmured before you watched him nibble on your ear in the bathroom mirror. You knew his preference for older women, something you knew before you’d even gotten together, walking into the bar you’d found him in and seeing him making out with a grandma one time. So you knew your aging wasn’t an issue; he’d told you often enough that he didn’t care how old you got, he only wanted you. That was why he had wanted you to take Compound V, far before your diagnosis, because he wanted to be with you forever, or as long as forever would be given your actual life span and his. But you were still struggling with all of the changes your body had gone through in the last couple of years and you’d broken down into sobs, letting your face fall into your hands. He’d held you and whispered reassurances into your ear that everything was going to be okay. 

And thankfully, he had been right. It had all turned out to be okay. You’d gotten to see Violet graduate, you’d gotten to go on campus tours with her as she decided on a college, you got to drive up with her and Ben to move her into her dorm room, you’d gotten to spend more time with your husband who loved you deeply — you’d gotten more time period.

And here you were, able to cook a full Thanksgiving dinner for your family on your own, and all three of you were thriving. Most people would be stating what they were thankful for on this day but you — the gratitude you felt overwhelmed you and it was something that couldn’t be put into words. You had a beautiful life, a wonderful life, a daughter just as beautiful and wonderful, and you were thankful for the man who had given it to you. Who had laid down his shield (and everything that came with it) and chosen to make this life with you.

You stared into his green eyes, seeing a certain amount of reverence mixed with affection watching you back. You felt his skin warm against yours, reminding you of all of the days and nights he spent trying to keep you warm during and after your treatments, and you smiled. “Your hands are so warm,” you whispered the familiar words. “I always forget how warm they are.”

And as expected, he grinned and responded with, “Not sure how, dollface. I never take them off of you.” He ran a thumb tenderly along your bottom lip. “And I never will.”

He kissed you then and you couldn’t help the tear that escaped and rolled down your cheek. The quickie ended up being not so quick. The turkey was a little drier than you liked but your family ate it all the same while Rose politely complimented you. Violet gave you a nod, smiling, missing her father unapologetically smirking over at you while shoveling forkfuls into his mouth. You gave him a look when your daughter glanced back down to her plate and he chortled before digging in again. You gazed around the table, smiling, content as could be. Gratitude. Thankful. Those were the two words that repeated themselves over and over in your head as you watched your family eat the food you’d cooked for them, even when Violet insisted that Ben had still cheated in Mario Kart, her father told her to let it go, and both agreed to a rematch right after dinner. 

This is what you’d wanted back when you gave Ben your ultimatum, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually get to have it. Thankful indeed.     

Being awash in these memories, you failed to notice that a tear was making its way down Ben’s cheek until it fell near your hairline when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t really feel anything that wasn’t pain or cold, except for him. Even his tears were warm. So warm.

“Not sure how, baby,” he answered you, smiling, his eyes wet. “I always have them on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return at your familiar exchange. That smile fell, though, when you heard what he said next.

“I’m gonna get him. I promise you that.”

You could see the faint edges of Soldier Boy peeking through as you saw your husband’s green eyes harden in an all-too familiar fashion. You slowly shook your head, even that tiny movement causing you pain. “I don’t want that. I want you and Vi to be safe.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Instead, his eyes softened once more and he gave you a nod. “Okay, baby.”

You and Ben had been walking through town, buying last minute Christmas presents. Ben wanted to order them online and avoid the crowds, but you wanted to take a walk, breathing in the fresh air and be imbued with the Christmas spirit that permeated the town. Ben had begrudgingly indulged you and you enjoyed yourself as you bought gifts for Violet, her fiancee, and you even managed to sneak one for Ben when you’d sent him to ask the guy manning the stand in the outdoor market for a price on an item. The woman from the stand next door had just bagged your gift when you noticed a young man walking through the market, commanding everyone’s attention. He had a suit on with a cape so it was obvious he was a Supe and he was looking for something or someone. His eyes flickered in Ben’s direction, who had his back to him, and a dangerous smile formed on his face. Within seconds, you recognized him. He was the Supe you had seen on TV a few years back, though he’d been wearing a different suit then and he wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he was now. He was the one who had been saying he would hunt Soldier Boy down to kill him. You quickly glanced back at Ben who was completely unaware, involved in the discussion he was having with the older man. You saw the Supe’s eyes begin to glow and you knew what would happen before it did. 

You dropped everything in your hands and ran as fast as you could towards Ben, yelling his name. He glanced up at you, his brows furrowed, and he tensed seeing your expression. It was mere moments that passed before you were in front of him and you felt a lava-hot feeling erupting from your insides, making you scream. 

You fell to the ground and you watched as Ben went to catch you but was forced to let you fall when he looked up to see more lasers coming his way. He moved out of the way just in time. As you lay, unable to move, hearing some of the sounds of battle all around you and people screaming and stampeding out of the market while your ears were still ringing, you prayed to whoever was listening that your husband won and that he and your daughter would be safe. 

It wasn’t until you heard something that sounded like a jet taking off into the sky and saw Ben’s boots come to a stop in front of you that you realized he had survived. You nearly cried at the sight of those worn work boots that you kept urging him to replace. He managed to roll you over though you cried out in pain as he did and he settled you onto his lap, his eyes wide as he took in your injuries. Not only could you feel how bad it was, but you could also see it on his face. It was a miracle you were somehow still alive, able to talk even, but you didn’t have long. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the rapidly-spreading cold wasn’t a good thing. Your hands and arms were practically numb at this point. And you thought cancer would be the one you’d have to worry about showing up.

“Make sure you take care of Vi. She’s going to need you,” you urged him.

He gave you another nod. “You know I will.”

“And don’t let that asshole find her.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened again. “He won’t.” You knew what that meant but not having much energy left, you could only hope that when he thought back to this moment, he remembered what you had told him you wanted. 

It worried you a little when he picked up your hand and kissed your palm that not only could you not feel it, but your hand looked the palest you’d ever seen it, even during chemo. 

More tears rolled down your cheeks but you made sure to look up at him. You had no idea how much time you had left but you needed to tell him, you needed him to know. “Tell Vi that I love her and I’m so proud of her.” And you were. Inspired by what had happened to you years back, she became a doctor, specifically an oncologist. She was determined to find a cure and in the meantime, help people who had gotten some of the worst news of their lives. “And, Ben.. Thank you for our life together. Thank you for our daughter. Thank you for everything.”

You could see his eyes beginning to glisten once more and he compulsively swallowed. “I should be thanking you for that.”

“You made the decision to walk away. If you hadn’t…”

“It was an easy decision.”

You tried to give him a smile that probably came out more of a grimace. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m thankful you made it.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead before staring into your eyes. “I’m thankful for you.”

You tried to smile wider but instead a cough erupted out of you and you could feel something wet on your lip. Ben gently swiped his thumb across it, moving it out of your sight, and a slight panic set in when you realized you could barely feel the action. “Ben,” you croaked. “I’m so cold.” You could barely feel the pain anymore and it felt as if someone had turned on an A/C inside you at full blast and the icy air was making its way up to your head. 

Ben attempted to give you a familiar smile. “Then I’ll warm you up, doll.” You heard the breaks in his voice but when he leaned down to kiss you, you let him, taking comfort in the familiar show of affection. You breathed through your nose and you relaxed, feeling the last bit of warmth that was infused into your lips.

Ben stayed there long after you took your last breath, long after you went limp. He knew you were gone but a small irrational part of him told himself that if he just kept trying to chase the cold away for you, he might somehow succeed. But ultimately, as he knew it wouldn’t, it didn’t work. He lifted his head and stared down at you, silently willing you to open your eyes. When you didn’t, more tears fell down his bearded cheeks and a sob tore out of his throat that he had no idea was there waiting to escape. “Baby,” he choked out, shaking you as gently as he could, still mindful of your wounds. But still, nothing. Then he said the words he’d always struggled to give voice to, thinking if nothing else would bring you back, this might. “I love you,” he let out in a broken whisper against your lips. When that didn’t work either, he knew that was it and subsequently broke down, rocking you tenderly in his arms as he buried his face in your neck while his shoulders shook. For the first time ever since becoming a Supe, Soldier Boy cried and didn’t care who saw it or knew about it. He ignored the cries of people looking for their loved ones, he ignored the police cars showing up and the sirens of the fire trucks on their way, he ignored people clamoring around the site asking what happened or trying to help others — he ignored them all. All he focused on was you. You had knowingly put yourself in front of those lasers to save him. …And now you were gone.

A/N: Please don't hate me. 🫣

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[thehereticdiaries]

WKTO: Holy Fuck, that's Ateez

Summary: You and your best friend have made it to the concert you've been looking forward to for MONTHS: Ateez! You have an amazing time, but at the end of the night you want nothing more than to crash onto the hotel bed. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) those plans get interrupted.

Mix of tweets, texts, and written story! Let me know if this is any good, it's my first try at an smau.

Series Masterlist

"Y/N, come on I need you to help with my eyeshadow," Chelsea complained from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Okay, okay. Honestly, why did you even pick a look you know is beyond your skill set?" You grumbled, grabbing both of your makeup bags and dragging your best friend out into the main room.

"Because I have you!" She grinned at you and plopped on the floor in between the beds. It took you a little under an hour to do both of your makeup looks and get dressed {idk how to do makeup irl sorry if this isnt enough time}.

"Damn, we look so good!" You gushed as you checked your outfits in the mirror.

"Hell yea we do! But what now? We still have, like, seven hours until we need to leave."

"We sit in silence and go on tiktok until it's time to go," you said while grabbing your phone from the bed. "Just make sure you don't let your phone die. We have power banks, but we should leave at 100%."

"Excellent plan." Chelsea mirrored your actions, sitting next to you on the small loveseat against the wall. First thing's first: you needed to post a photo of your outfit.

Seven hours passed by very quickly with the help of edits and compilations. You buzzed with anticipation while you waited for the Uber in the lobby.

"Chelsea I am literally going to explode," you bounced on your heels in excitement.

"No because same. I can't believe I'm going to see them with my own two eyes," she grinned and smacked your shoulder repeatedly. You swatted her hand away, looking at your phone when it vibrated.

"Yes! Uber's here, let's go." You corralled her out the door and into the car. The driver, a lovely middle-aged woman, thoroughly complimented your outfits, letting the two of you ramble on about Ateez. There was no way in hell she would remember all of their names, but she was very sweet and nodded along in all the right places.

"Holy shit, this place is huge," Chelsea whistled at the size of the stadium. You tugged her into the entrance line, chatting with the other ATINYs.

"I love that you added San's anarchy symbol! Isn't it going to smudge, though?" A pink-haired girl behind you asked.

"I went on some cosplay blogs and found a really good primer and setting spray. The person that suggested them goes to conventions as Sukuna, Akaza, and Kankuro and their paint lasts all day," you explained, pulling up the photos the cosplayer posted.

The venue employees finally opened the entrances, stealing your attention from the girl behind you. Your impatience grew stronger the closer you got to the security line. You didn't really expect to find a spot at the barricade, despite Beomgyu's teasing. But you had luck and Chelsea on your side, and she managed to worm her way up front, dragging you along with her. At 7 o'clock on the dot, the lights dropped and music blasted from the speakers.

After their final goodbyes, Ateez disappeared backstage. The overhead lights blinded you as they powered on. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and your throat hurt from screaming for three hours straight.

"That was better than amazing. That was life-changing. A true religious experience," Chelsea sighed dreamily. You hit up the merch booth before heading outside to wait for your ride back to the hotel.

"Are your ears ringing as bad as mine?" You leaned your head on Chelsea's shoulder.

"Oh definitely. We really should have listened to Hyeongjun and Yuna and gotten earplugs," she agreed loudly.

"You're shouting." You pinched her knee as emphasis. She rolled her eyes and pulled you to the Uber that parked nearby. It was past 11 when you got back to your room and you were starving.

"I'm getting DoorDash, what do you want?" Chelsea asked from where she splayed out on the floor. The two of you ordered an excessive amount of food, sitting in a comfortable silence while you waited.

"David will be here in five minutes with our food, go wait in the lobby." You glared at the older girl.

"Why me? I'm comfortable."

"You still have your shoes on. Just go, please," she whined and shot you her best puppy eyes.

"Fine. You're lucky you're cute." You grabbed your room key and trudged down to the lobby. You tapped your foot impatiently, looking around at the artwork on the walls. A group of very familiar faces entered from a side door, and your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't keep your eyes off the idols. You sat like a deer in headlights. Did you want them to notice you or did you want to launch yourself into the sun? Yes. Well, they did notice you, but they were much more subtle with their glances.

Before Hongjoong could stop them, Seonghwa and Yeosang approached you.

"Hi! You're an ATINY, right?" The eldest was the first to speak. You nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Were you at the show?" Again, you nodded.

"Skipping the small talk, did you know we were staying here? Did you follow us from the venue?" Your jaw dropped at Yeosang's questions.

"No! No, of course not. I booked a room here a couple weeks ago because I found a deal on Groupon," you quickly explained yourself. "I'm so sorry if I freaked you out, I swear I didn't know."

"Looks like Hongjoong and Jongho were worried for nothing. I'll let them know," Seonghwa smiled at you before turning back to his other members. The others eyed you with a mix of apprehension and interest. You were very aware of Yeosang standing two feet to your right.

"How did you like the show?" Yeosang titled his head, waiting expectantly for your answer.

"It was amazing. I had so much fun, it was unlike any other concert that I've been to," you praised, feeling shy under the idol's gaze.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I knew she was at the show." You jumped slightly when San suddenly appeared next to Yeosang.

"You knew?" The older boy furrowed his brows.

"Mhm. I recognized her hair and belt." You flushed as their eyes trailed over your body. You awkwardly clasped your hands in front of you to hide your exposed midriff.

"Are those real?" San gestured to the symbols on your thigh and hip.

"The one on my leg is. This one is paint."

"It held up really well," Yeosang noted. You fumbled over your own thoughts. You were practically short-circuiting at this point and couldn't figure out how to continue the conversation.

"Are you Chelsea?" A man wearing a DoorDash hat handed you the large bag of food when you nodded.

"That's a lot of stuff for one girl," San teased.

"It's not just for me. Chelsea is my friend, we ordered on her account. Speaking of, I should really get back to my room. I'm sure she's wondering where I am." You began a hasty retreat.

"Wait, what's your name, then?" San asked before you could turn to the elevator.

"O-oh, I'm Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, we're having breakfast at the cafe across the street tomorrow at 9. If you're interested, you can join us. Bring Chelsea, too." You gaped at the idol, unable to process the invitation.

"Uhm, okay. Yeah! Sure, I'll talk to Chelsea about it. Uh, gooodnight," you stuttered and scurried away to the elevator.

"Goodnight, little ATINY!" San called out just before the elevator doors closed.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

Series Taglist: @staytinyluv

[laudanine]

How to make a back-patch: Hancock edition

Hey guys! So the tutorial for the Hancock patch is here! So the standing rule on this patch is "you can use my art and make your own, but you are not permitted to make money off it." But man, make your own, go nuts!

Steps 1 to 5 are mostly about how I made the image itself. Steps 6 to 9 are about making a patch once you have your final image. Skip ahead if you need!

So here's the supplies I personally use for these patches -

Tulip fabric paint, black and white

Talc powder

Charcoal powder

Tracing paper

Paintbrush

Fine-tip squeeze bottles

Fabric

My computer

Tape

A thumbtack

A pencil

And to be clear, these are NOT the only options. I've done this with black or white acrylic paint instead of fabric paint, it works fine. If you don't want to bother with the squeeze bottles you can use a paintbrush instead. If you don't have talc powder, cornstarch would work. If you can't find powdered charcoal, you can crush some up like I did, or use graphite, or literally whatever. You get the idea.

If you're going to be using the fine-tip squeeze bottles, now is the time to put your paint (fabric or acrylic) into the bottles and thin them with water to your level of comfort. You WILL need to test the paint on some fabric first, to be sure you can apply it evenly and that it flows well. If you're going to use acrylics, I highly suggest you add a drop of retardant to the mix ALONG with water.

2. I find my images for the figure I'm drawing. Yes, we're tracing: this ain't fine art and we're not gonna be snobs. Here we have John Hancock from the game and John Hancock IRL Danny Shorago.

3. I trace my images! You may notice my two reference images are the same pose! I'm gonna trace the first one by taping my paper over my computer screen and drawing LIGHTLY.

When I had the basics for Danny's proportions down, I left the paper where it was and moved the image of Hancock underneath the paper and traced what I needed from that image. That gets me this double-layer image.

4. I decide which of these lines I want to keep. Even with the faces for John and Danny lined up proportionally the shoulders and neck length of the two figures are pretty different. I decided that I wanted to go with narrower shoulders, and free-handed in the ruffles for his shirt.

5. Now I merge the two faces. I have to get the skin texture from John onto the face I have, which is mostly Danny. I kept up a whole screen of reference images for this process so I could decide what I wanted to pull from where.

And I leaned hard into the skull for his cheekbones and nose. You can see I actually used a colored pencil to outline those skull-like elements before I chose my final lines, and used another piece of my own darn art to add a chin scar I just really like. It is NOT a bad idea to trace a SECOND COPY of this image AT THIS TIME. Your image will be getting really dirty and messed up in the future, so unless you want to start over, you should make a spare copy (spoiler: I didn't do that and had to do this whole thing a second time to make a second patch...)

6. Align your fabric and your tracing paper up and tape first the fabric down THEN the paper on top, separately.

7. Poke holes! Use your thumbtack to poke holes along the lines you're trying to transfer. The way I'm doing this patch most of the image is white lines on black fabric, with SOME black lines on white for his face, neck, and shirt. For that reason, my transfer process is gonna be in TWO parts, one to lay down the white portions and then later to put the black lines ON TOP of the white areas as needed. I don't have a photo for this step: poke holes, you know how to do that.

8. Apply talc/powder to the image and use a paintbrush to gently brush the talc over the surface. You can use the brush perpendicular to the surface to GENTLY push the powder into the holes from the thumbtack holes.

9. Peel off the paper GENTLY. As you can see, I didn't even poke holes for the lines in his face, just the outlines for what's going to be painted in white. What you have is a little connect-the-dots to apply white paint to.

10. Apply white paint and allow to DRY COMPLETELY.

11. Once the white paint it TOTALLY DRY you're going to repeat steps 7 to 9, poking holes in the locations that you want to have BLACK lines appear. For me that's the details on his face and shirt. Instead of talc, the powder I used was crushed vine charcoal. You can see I'm starting to apply the black paint along the lines of black spots of charcoal.

12. Add, like, words and stuff! Also clean up, and fine tune, etc. You did awesome, and if it didn't turn out, well you DEFINITELY made a spare copy like I suggested you do in step 5, right?!?! Right.

Some notes:

This process also works on tee shirts if you want, but definitely use the fabric paint and not acrylics or the paint will flake off when you wash the clothing. Instead of taping the shirt down, I suggest you thumbtack it to a board or to some thick cardboard to keep it still while you work.

If you don't have a computer/screen you can trace on then print the images you want to work with and tape them to a window to use as alight-box.

You don't need to use the charcoal, honestly. If the design is simple or you're feeling like a BAMF, you can skip the black paint and the black powder and just use the negative space of the black fabric instead.

Tracing, and I cannot say this clearly enough, is not cheating when you're not tracing someone else's art. Trace a face. Trace a figure. Trace a landscape. I don't care. If you're tracing any image, you're going to need to do a lot of work to make your shitty traced image (my step 3) into something that looks like art (my step 5). That act of work, that's making art. Congratulations.

If you made it this far and REALLY want to donate money to me over this, don't! Maybe donate to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund instead at pcrf.net because that'd be SUPER cool.

Hope some or all of this helped someone somewhere be a cool punk badass like everyone's favorite Mayor.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Please if you have any good opinions on Turgon let me know because I currently can’t stand the guy and I do want to at least somewhat like him.

Edit: Sorry sorry! 1/3, not 2/3. I’ve corrected the post.

But anyway, can we talk about Turgon taking 1/3 of the Noldor to Gondolin.

Like I can find it in me to like or at least understand pretty much every Finwëan. But Turgon? That guy makes me furious. As do the Noldor who decided to follow him. Literally what was the point of coming to Beleriand if they were just going to hide away. They literally abandoned everyone to Morgoth.

‘But Ulmo told him to!’

Ok fine. I get it. Turgon (and Finrod) were still somewhat faithful and wanted to follow through. But to take that many people with you? To let so many people come with you, knowing your brother and father aren’t gonna know where you are and if anything suddenly goes wrong, you’re not gonna make it in time and its goodbye remaining family.

(Also imo the Valar have an admittedly not malicious, but bad habit of choosing those they think are the smartest, strongest, etc, and taking them away from the rest of their people, leaving the rest to suffer. Making small temporary paradises that statistically can’t last forever. I’m counting Numenor here. But that’s beside the point.)

Anyway I am fully of the opinion that if Turgon’s not so little sect had decided to stay and actually take part, the Bragollach would have gone very differently, leading to a potential victory in the Nirnaeth, despite the betrayals. The entire battle plan would’ve been different.

Like think about it right. 2/3 of the Noldor left fighting in Beleriand. Those are cut down pretty badly in the Bragollach to the point I’d say a good 50% of the Noldor now reside in Gondolin. That’s the force they have to make a fight plan for the Nirnaeth. Turgon did turn up but like. Do you get what I mean? When you have that many more fighters, the entire plan could’ve been changed, but I’m getting too far ahead. Let’s go back to the Bragollach.

I have this thing talking about Fingolfin’s last, desperate attempt at Morgoth. If his son, daughter, and granddaughter, and a large bulk of his people had been there to help, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have gone. Wouldn’t have felt the need to go. Aegnor and Angrod might not have been killed. The Feanorions would have been displaced still, but been able to reclaim some of their lands with more elves to fight back.

Because say what you will, they successfully coordinated a 400 year long siege on Angband with Fingolfin and co, and that’s a two way deal. They can clearly band together to take on a larger enemy. As you know, I’m also of the opinion Fingolfin genuinely loved his nephews even if he didn’t get along with their father.

You might be wondering ‘but what about Aredhel.’ I have generally mixed opinions, but don’t actively dislike her. The main thing is idk how many people followed her specifically, but I don’t think it was that many.

That said I do feel really bad for Fingon who’d lost Argon over the ice and now his remaining little siblings were gone who knows where, somewhere he couldn’t even help them if they needed it. I’m sorry you don’t just abandon siblings like that, especially in a situation which always has the potential to go suddenly wrong (as we see with the Bragollach.) This coming from a little sibling btw, maybe that’s why I have such strong feelings on this 😂

But I’ll make a Fingon specific post another time.

AS I SAID, please please if you have saving opinions on Turgon comment so I can like this dude. I haven’t read the Fall of Gondolin and generally don’t know a bunch about him, but our vibes ain’t vibing rn 💀

[averagewriter-inthedark]

You Got It Bad 🏸 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Headcanon

Edit posted on 2 Sep 24: omg when I posted this a few days ago America had yet to win a medal in badminton (Olympic & Paralympic) and today Team USA’s mixed doubles in badminton won the silver medal!! Congrats to Jayci Simon & Miles Krajewski for their win and making history!! The first ever medal in badminton for USA!!

Being married to Bob & becoming Olympians for the sport of Badminton would look like:

You and Bob met in flight school following your respected commissions into the Navy in 2011, became friends and colleagues, which them bloomed into lovers about a year later. You were the pilot, and he was your back seater---so it is no surprise your relationship worked so well considering you two were partners in the sky. After about two years of dating, Bob popped the famous question and you guys were wed within the year--the Navy sending you guys to bases as a package deal.

As most military instillations, there's a community gym and recreation center where active, reserve, and their families go to participate in intermural sports and activities. Many go for the typical bowling league and softball team or try a hand at flag football and ultimate. For you and Bob, badminton called yall's name.

Originating in British India and popular among countries in Europe and Asia, badminton made its Olympic debut in 1992 in Barcelona, Spain. Now while at first glance badminton may look easy in comparison to other court sports with a net like tennis and volleyball, but badminton requires just as much speed, agility, and precision. Especially when the shuttlecock is flying at record speed from one opponent to the other. The better the motor skills, the better you are.

Of course in the beginning you guys were a little rusty. Figuring out the rules and the best way for you and Bob to coordinate moves. You were the better server, but Bob was better handling the back while you stayed close to the net.

What started as a fun, leisure activity became more serious as you continued to play. Like we're talking you put up a net in your backyard. Whenever you hosted gatherings, you can expect that at some point in the night people migrated to the backyard to play a game or two. And boy would it get intense whenever you and Bob were on opposite sides of the court. "I hope you enjoy losing, pretty boy." "Darling, I know you're always right....but tonight you are wrong."

Not only did you build a sweat when a game got intense, but you looked forward to spending time with your husband outside of work. Not having to deal with the stress of flying or anxiety of running missions. Badminton was a great way to relive the tension and stay active. After every game you shared a sweet kiss with your husband, exchanging praises of 'Great job,' and 'We'll get 'em next time."

You both were competitive and roughly a year after playing you drew attention when you decided to join a local circuit outside of intermural on base. Winning match after match, you guys came in second in your first tournament. A great introduction to the start of your athletic career in mixed doubles badminton---which by the way, shoutout to RedBull and Dunkin Doughnuts for the caffeine supply when balancing a military and sports career.

Now the Olympic Games....the greatest sporting stage the world has ever scene...was never something you envisioned when you and Bob picked up your rackets for the first time. You'd only been playing badminton for a few years, having started in 2014. By the time the Rio Games came around, you guys were no way in Olympic level standings. Sure you'd been in a handful of local tournaments, making the podium in all, but you'd only recently won your regional title for mixed doubles, set to compete in nationals. You had yet to play an international tournament.

That time would come in 2017, and while you came home with third place at you guys were motivated to do better. You wanted to win a World title. Especially to prove to people who thought badminton was not a sport of high popularity like tennis or volleyball--and something you only play as a unit in high school P.E. You and Bob were motivated to bring more eyes to badminton in America. And what better way than to dominate a world tour.

So, when you guys weren't in the sky you were on the court. In the gym. Coaching each other, studying competition, working on technique, rewatching matches from previous Olympics. The Tokyo Games became a goal. And you were determined to make them. The pressure was on considering the United States has never won a medal in any event in badminton. "So, the Olympics...pretty darn big if you ask me." "Baby, you should know that when we put our mind to something, we make it happen."

It got to the point where your family members and friends were asking y'all about progress and even buying you equipment as birthday presents. And with the amount of shuttlecocks you go through monthly it was a blessing to a whole bucket of them in your garage. Your rackets had y'alls callsign's on them and of course you had matching outfits. And soon you guys had to invest in a nice cabinet to display your medals, plaques, and trophies from your competitions. Having the 2018 BWF World Championship right in the center.

You and Bob became a household name in the sport in the American circuit. Not only because you two were dominated the competition, but also the fact you guys were married and Naval officers brought a lot of attention. People who followed the sport became fans and viewed you guys as a love story out of romance books. Friends/coworkers-to-lovers who become teammates and an unstoppable duo in their sport. Yeah, it wrote itself.

When the 2019 detachment came though that became the priority. As much as it pained you to put training for the Sudirman Cup on hold, you had an obligation to the Navy. Nonetheless, you packed up your equipment and made the drive down from Lemoore to San Diego. Once settled, you both were spending any free time at the base rec center, practicing even for 30 minutes if you had it.

Soon the rest of the team picked up your love for the sport and became intrigued. Natasha especially, who became invested in watching you two play against each other. Shocked to see how heated it got and the fact you were able to move so fast to save a rally. "You guys are really into this, huh?" "Yeah. We just started for fun years ago and well..it took off."

After the whole shit between Jake and Bradley where Mav did damage control by taking y'all to the beach for dogfight football, you and Bob whipped out the equipment and soon all 12 of ya paired up to play games. It pretty much turned into a bracket situation where duos were eliminated until two remained for the final round.

And who's suprised....you and Bob won. And because you guys were so good, the team practically interrogated you two to which the reveal of your side career surfaced.

"You mean to tell me," Jake squinted against the sun, "You two are pretty much famous badminton players and are on the road to making the Olympics next year?" "Yep, that's about right. We want to be the first Americans to win a medal in the sport."

Fast forward to the success of the Uranium mission and unexpected world pandemic that followed, you and Bob are homebound due to the Navy restricting all work to remote settings, leaving you all the time in the world to perfect your craft. You won the Sudirman Cup, putting your names once more as contenders for the Tokyo Games and had one more year to train due to the postponement. In that time you and the rest of the Top Gun detachment transferred to Fightertown permanently, further bonding the friendships formed and the team became y'alls biggest supporters.

Qualifying for the Olympics had to have ranked in your top three moments in life. Right in the middle between marrying Bob and the Uranium mission. You jumped in his arms, screaming in joy while he spun you around and let the tears flow, bringing his lips for a passionate kiss not caring who watched. Never had you thought picking up a random badminton racket to pass time and relieve stress after a long work day would lead you to competing in the greatest sporting event alongside the love of your life. Experiencing it with Bob made it all the better. "We're going to the Olympics, baby!!'

Stepping onto the court in Tokyo officially titled you and Bob as Olympians, and while you competed for the gold across the pacific, back home your friends and family gathered to watch it unfold decked in red, white, and blue. The Hard Deck, your hometown, Bob's hometown, the rec center back in Lemoore where you first began playing badminton, the entire damn Navy was cheering you on.

Goal #1: Become Olympians - Achieved. Goal #2: Become the 1st Americans to win a medal in badminton - Achieved. Goal #3: Become the 1st Americans to win a gold medal in badminton - Achieved.

Yeah, you read that right. Not only did you and Bob accomplish everything you set your eyes on, but you cemented yourself in history as the first Americans to win a medal in any event in the sport of badminton and it was the gold. You guys became Olympic champions. And you can best believe the whole world was shocked to their core during the intense, heart pounding, sweat inducing, on the edge of your seat gold medal match against the #1 team in the world. You had already proven yourself to be the team to watch out for after knocking out the other leading pairs in the quarter and semi-finals, but to walk away with the gold after losing the first match, winning the second and tying the score each time until it ended with you scoring the golden point of 30.

Put it in the history books.

And three years later in a sold out crowd with your friend and family in the city of love, you and Bob continued your romantic journey of love, dedication and partnership when you defended your gold medal, adding a second to your cabinet with the promise of a third when the Games return to the Los Angeles 😉

[pedripics]

Pedri via Residency - August 21, 2024

He is tired of today's training, which was intense

Idol? - “Iniesta, that hasn’t changed”

When will they be back at the Camp Nou? - “Well, I don't know for sure. At the end of the year or beginning of 2025”

How are you these days? - “All ok”

We are working very hard. The goal at Barça is always to win everything”

How was your first game back? - “I felt and we won in a very complicated field, Mestalla. So everything is ok”

What did you do today? - “Mainly, training. This afternoon I had treatment”

What trophy do you want to win this season? - “La Liga and Champions League, of course”

Favourite Colour? - “Blue”

Favourite Friend? - “My friends since childhood are called Dani, Fran and Ruben”

Do you see the TikTok edits about you? - “Some come up to me, of course! Many times I laugh”

Favourite NBA player? - “Curry”

Summer or winter? - “Well winter isn’t bad with a blanket at home”

How did you think of the name Nilo? - “I liked the name. My mother wanted Thor”

Gavi has not met Nilo yet

He’s looking forward to playing against Las Palmas since he didn’t get to last season

Nilo is a Culer like his entire family

Nilo still has to be at home. Being a very young puppy, he spends the day sleeping

Nilo should be Barça’s captain (i agree)

Who is better at table football? - “Me… I can't tell you anything else”

What promises would you make if you win the Champions League? - “Ugh… I already cut my hair and a moustache for winning the Euro. Some Suggestions?”

He doesn’t drink coffee

What do expect from Saturdays game? - “To win”

Do you often read rumours about yourself? - “As little as possible, although sometimes they come up on TikTok, for example”

Are you excited to play against Messi? - “It should be very nice, yes. And if we win, even more”

Marvel or Taylor Swift? - “The answer is Taylor Swift; I've seen some but I'm not a super fan of those movies”

Who will win the Champions League? - “Barça. I can't think of any other”

Do you ever play tennis? - “It's summer, sometime with my brother and friends”

“I'm very happy. This season I'm going to try to improve my English, as I told you.”

Do you have Arab origins? - “as far as I know only Canarian” (finally a question everyone wanted to know)

Milo’s breed? - “According to the veterinarian, it is a Labrador but a little smaller. I suppose it’s a mix”

Do you like Casado’s playing style? - “He did very well in Mestalla. The boys of the quarry have a lot of quality and desire, not only Marc”

Who is the player you wish you could had played more time? - “That’s easy, with Leo”

You talk with hansi in English? - “I understand him and some things I do tell him, but I mainly speak in Spanish”

Myke Towers or Quevedo? - “Quevedo is my favorite, also because it is from my land, although Mike Towers has crazyyy songs”

Do you get along with XBuyers? - “Yess!! Great people”

Opinion on Musiala? - “I think he’s a top player”

Olympic Sport you followed? - “A little bit pf everything, but Basket 3x3 seemed very good to me”

Do you like futsal? - “Siiii”

Do you play fantasy? - “Siii”

Do you still play FIFA? - “Siii”

Are you an angry or calm person? - “Normally calm”

Do you have more of your mom’s or dad’s personality? - “Maybe my mother… But that's a question for others”

Do u think u will receive a red card one day? - “I'm not very fond of seeing cards, but it's difficult not to see one in one’s entire career”