#des runs every morning and and extra when he's stressed

[quinn-borel]

I would like you to write a fic about Quinn taking care of her son Hauchefant.

“Remember not to have too much coffee, my lady.” the steward reminded Quinn as she was about to pour herself another cup from the carafe.  She frustratingly tapped her finger on the table as she pulled back—he was right, but she needed that extra bit of juice to get her morning started.  The previous night had been a late one as per usual, and unlike her husband, she was far from a morning person.  The steward instead offered to pour her a glass of water, which she could enjoy with her eggs and toast.  

“Thank you.” she said with a bitter smile, her tired eyes following the steward as he excused himself from the breakfast nook with the coffee carafe in hand—no longer would she be tempted to exceed her one-cup limit for the morning.  As usual, the eggs were fluffy and flavorful and the toast, crunchy to perfection, just the way she liked it.  It only took the house Borel steward a few weeks to make her breakfast the way Aymeric made it for her on days he didn’t have to attend early morning meetings.  It was quite impressive.  Though it would have been more enjoyable to share the meal with her husband, who hastily said his farewells as she was getting herself dressed.  He, too, admittedly slept in due to their elongated night.  

“Did milord eat breakfast this morning?” she called to the steward, who poked his head back into the nook,

“Unfortunately, he did not.  Though, I presume he will return ‘round the noon hour for a meal.”

“Gods, I hope so.” she sighed, “He’s been running himself ragged.”  The steward had no retort as he went back to his duties.  Quinn lost her appetite upon hearing that Aymeric, once again, skipped breakfast due to his station.  The practice was becoming all-to-common for her liking, yet it pained her to have to lecture him once more while she had the luxury of staying at home for the time being.  The lady of the house stood up from the table and abandoned her plate, leaving half a piece of toast and a quarter of her eggs to the side, a choice she would later regret.  

Quinn made her way down the main hall towards the western wing of the house.  Although she had no plans for the day involving anything outside the house, she couldn’t help but to be lost in thought as she calculated her plans for the day.

“Oh, I didn’t have tea with someone today, did I?” she muttered, “I really need to buy a planner or something to write these things down.  Oh, but then I have to go to the Crozier to find one.  It’s been snowing a lot lately, and I’d rather not take him out in the cold just to get a notebook.  Perhaps I can ask Aym to buy me one?  No, he should really be home to rest...”

Admittedly, she found herself bound to the house for the foreseeable future, especially as winter roared in with its nasty weather as it so loved to do.  While Ishgard was an eternal winter scape, when the Eorzean calendar read the beginnings of the sixth umbral moon every resident knew that it was winter winter.   She would just have to hunker down and wait it out…

…at least she wasn’t alone during the day anymore.

Five moons prior, Quinn had given birth to her and Aymeric’s son, lovingly named Haurchefant de Borel.  He was born a healthy weight with this father’s eyes and his mother’s complexion, with an infectious smile and laughter that could fill a room.  He was their pride and joy, and undoubtedly a symbol of their love.  

Opening the door to their room, Quinn felt the stress of the early morning lift from her shoulders as she heard Haurchefant babbling in his bassinet.  While he may have been the reason she was up so late the night before, Quinn was elated to see him up and about.  At least, as about as a five month old could be.

“Looks like someone is finally awake.” she giggled as she approached Haurchefant’s crib, which sat in the corner of her and Aymeric’s room while his true room was being redecorated.  The little one stared at his mother curiously for a moment before smiling and kicking his feet in excitement—at least, kicking as much as he could while swaddled in his layered onesie.  Quinn leaned over his cot, gently touching her fingertip to the tip of his nose, “Good morning, my little lord.”

Haurchefant giggled in response as he reached for his mother’s hand.  Upon grasping her finger, his other hand went to his mouth as he looked at her almost expectantly.  The hand that touched his mouth flailed a bit more before touching his mouth again.  She knew exactly what that meant.

“Is my little Haurchie hungry?” she cooed playfully, “My smart little man knows how to tell me that he is, doesn’t he?”

He nearly slapped his mouth in protest, brow furrowed as if his signal did nothing to her since there was no milk in sight.  But Quinn knew better than to make her little guy wait, immediately lifting him out of the bassinet and bringing him over to the rocking chair in the opposite corner of the room,

“I can’t wait until you’re in your own room, it’s crowded in here.” she lamented as her gaze fell to all the baby necessities littered in the once-spacious master bedroom.  But, soon he would be old enough to be in his own room…and maybe she and Aymeric could finally get some decent sleep.  

Haurchefant fussed as there was still no sign of milk, a tiny whine coming from his mouth in frustration.  How could she be so cruel?  He was hungry, and he was hungry now.  Even if he was picked up, which he loved, he still wasn’t getting anything to eat!  Impatient as he was, the babe began to fuss even louder, despite his mother sitting down and positioning herself for a comfortable feeding time for the both of them.

“Now, now…” Quinn bit her lip a bit, trying not to raise her voice as he began to whine louder.  She gently hushed him as she slid down one side of her dress, exposing her breast just before the infant had a full-on tantrum.  Bringing the babe to her bosom, Haurchefant quickly latched on to her nipple and began to nurse…as if he wasn’t fed just a few hours beforehand.  Quinn sighed and leaned back a bit, holding her son in the optimal position so that he could have his breakfast without any disruption.   

Finally, some food!

“I’m still so glad you don’t have teeth yet.” she muttered,  “…To the bottle with you when that happens.”

Of course the baby was unfazed by his mother’s promise to bottle feed him if he bit her, he was too busy focusing on his own morning routine.  The little boy had his own day ahead of him—breakfast with mom, some burping, a walk around the house, and then that dreaded tummy time…but somewhere in there, lunch! And dinner! And a snack, maybe?  It was a tight schedule, with little room to let his mother do much for herself.  Though he would certainly let her know if she was slacking in her duties.

With a yawn, Quinn sat back in her chair and did what she could to keep her eyes open.  With the vision of her son fading in an out, she used her free hand to tap her cheek in an attempt to fully wake.  She wondered if Aymeric faired the same, sitting at his desk looming over paperwork with his eyelids drooping from the lack of sleep.  She could not quite recall the last time each of them had a full night’s rest…maybe five months ago, she assumed.  

Yet even with tired eyes, the moment she looked down at her suckling babe she couldn’t help but to beam with delight.  That was her boy; her little baby boy.  Sure, he had a habit of wailing and crying at night and fussed throughout the day, but those moments were miniscule compared to the quiet moments where he bonded with his mother like so.  Or, the moments when he giggled and smiled up at his father, both sharing the same bright, blue eyes and wavy black hair.  

Quinn could still recount the moment Aymeric held their son for the first time–how he wept with joy, praising Halone for such a healthy boy and thanking his wife for giving him such a blessing.  The pair were nearly inseparable until the little one cried out for his first meal.  Of course, Aymeric would soon have to return to his duties, leaving the babe in the care of Quinn for most of the day.  But for sure, upon his return home every night after kissing his wife he would take his son into his arms once more, giving Quinn her much-needed break.

“All done?” she asked curiously as Haurchefant nuzzled his head against her, softly smacking his lips together with quite the bit of milk dribbling out of his mouth.  As per their routine, she pulled the babe up and near her shoulder, patting him on the back until the softest belch came out of him.  And then some…

“Y-yeah, you’re done.”

 “b-buhb ba…”

“I’m glad you’re full.” she giggled, pressing her lips to his cheek  before returning him to his bassinet for a moment.  

But, oh, he wouldn’t have that.  While his mother was fixing her dress back to the way it was, he was determined to get her attention once again.  A loud screech came from the bassinet as he kicked as best as he could through his swaddle, Quinn wincing slightly before she got the hint.

“Alright, alright.” she cooed as she once again lifted him up and into her arms.  He squealed with delight, his smile brightening up the room as he looked at his mother with adoration.  Quinn began to sway with him in her arms, humming softly before pressing another kiss to his forehead.

“Well come and well met, my brave little spark…” she hummed, “how long you’ve wandered, burned bright as a star…”

The babe grinned as his mother sang to him, a hand reaching up to touch her face which she allowed as she lowered her head to kiss her son once more,

“Oh, I have awaited you patiently all this time...”

And she continued to sing and sing, lulling her baby into a calming sleep until she was able to place him back into the bassinet without worry of a tantrum.  Upon her final verse, she sat herself on her bed, eyes slowly closing as she hummed,

“…for this journey’s end...is but one step forward to...tomorrow…”

And with a final note, Quinn fell back asleep.

An early morning nap between mother and child never hurt anyone.

[ubersaur]

forgot to upload

[storiesforallfandoms]

hard day ~ pete davidson

word count: 2057

request?: yes!

“Hey can I request a Pete Davidson imagine where the reader has had a long hard day at set and dealing with papparazzi and Pete pampers her. Maybe ending in smut to make her feel special?”

description: after a hard day of filming, followed by an overwhelming run in with paparazzi, he decides to help her relax

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of the door slamming alerted Pete that his girlfriend was finally arriving home. She had texted him a few hours earlier to say she was being kept late on set, but neither one of them thought that she meant she’d be this late.

Pete craned his neck to peak around the doorway of the living room as he watched (Y/N) stomp up the stairs towards their shared room. He cringed as he heard that door slam shut as well. He knew this meant that (Y/N) wanted to be left alone, but he hated to leave her alone while she was so angry. So, he paused his show and got up to make his way to their room.

Instead of barging in, Pete stood outside their shared bedroom door and knocked. When there was no answer, he tried again.

“Fuck off,” came a groan.

“Hard day baby?” Pete asked her.

“Fuck off for a bit, Pete. I don’t wanna snap at you.”

Pete sighed and decided to leave her be. He knew it was best to let her blow off steam however she felt she had to, but it was hard when all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her until the bad went away.

An idea popped into his head. He moved from their bedroom to the bathroom down the hall. He began to run the bath and put some of (Y/N)’s favorite bubble bath in. He watched as the bubble rose so high that she would definitely disappear into them. While waiting for the hot water to cool down just enough that she could get in comfortably, Pete went down to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Once his de-stressing scene was all set up, he went back to their bedroom. Instead of knocking, Pete just walked in. He found his girlfriend laying face down on the bed. She was still completely dressed in her clothes from the day, which made him feel a slight twinge of sadness for her.

(Y/N) lifted her head just enough to look at Pete before letting it drop back down to the bed. “Go away.”

“I have a bath ready for you.”

(Y/N) rolled over onto her back and looked over at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I think I did, actually. You seem very upset, and we both know how much you love a good bath to help calm down.”

(Y/N) looked at him for a moment longer. She had to admit he was right on that front. She loved to take a nice hot bath after a long, stressful day in order to calm down. But tonight she just felt extra stressed and frustrated to a point where it felt like even a bath wasn’t going to help her.

She couldn’t hold back her giggles as Pete lifted her into his arms and started carrying her towards the bathroom. He played her on the counter and began to strip her of her clothes.

“I think I know how to get undressed, Pete,” she joked.

“But it’s my favorite thing to do!” Pete responded, a goofy smile on her face as he pulled her pants and panties down her legs at the same time, leaving her completely naked in front of him.

“You do light up like a child on Christmas when I take my bra off,” she teased him, noticing his eyes lingering on her chest.

“Your tits are my favorite gifts,” he agreed, tweaking her nipple just once to satisfy the urge inside of him. (Y/N)’s legs tightened a little at the gesture. Pete noticed, but decided not to say anything just yet.

He helped her into the tub and poured her a glass of the wine.

“Aren’t you joining me?” she asked as she took the glass from him.

“I’ll join you in a nice glass of this expensive wine we have,” he said. “But this is your de-stressing bath. I’ll just sit here and watch and drink for a while.”

“That’s romantic,” she said, sarcastically. “I take a nice hot bubble bath all by myself, while my boyfriend sits on the toilet.”

“Hey, could be worse. I could also be naked while I’m sitting here. Imagine how weird that would be.”

(Y/N) crinkled her nose before she started to giggle. Pete smiled as well, feeling a sense of pride in making her laugh.

They both sat together for a while, just sipping their wine. (Y/N) felt her body relaxing in the hot water as she laid her head back against the wall behind her. This really was what she needed after such a long day, whether her more frustrated self wanted to admit it or not.

“What had you so worked up in the first place, babe?” Pete asked as he filled her wine glass.

(Y/N) groaned. “You’re ruining the mood, Pete.”

He chuckled. “Okay, sorry. Just asking is all.”

(Y/N) sighed and lifted her head again to look at him. “Remember how I texted you to tell you I was asked to stay a bit later in order to finish a scene? Well, that ‘a bit later’ turned into three hours later because the director kept making me film the scene over and over and over until he finally decided it was okay. Not perfect, not even great! Just okay. He put us through hours of reshooting just to decide he was going to go with the okay take! Fucking bastard!”

“What was his problem?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Beats me! Apparently nothing was good enough for him. Wasted three fucking hours filming just to get an okay scene. Then, when I left, I was tired but I wanted to spend at least an hour with you, so I decided to go get coffee. The minute I stepped out of my vehicle I was swarmed by paparazzi. I don’t know how they figured out where I went, but they would not leave me alone. I ended up not even going into the coffee place cause I could not get around at all.”

Pete reached out and took hold of one of (Y/N) bubbly, wet hands. “I’m so sorry, babe. I do get how much the paparazzi shit sucks, but on top of an already bad day? That fucking sucks so much?”

(Y/N) sighed and ran her thumb over Pete’s knuckles. “It does suck. I have to go back to set tomorrow morning and I’m dreading it so much. How am I supposed to go back there after spending so long filming that last scene today? I’ll kill the director the moment I see him.”

“You wouldn’t even hurt a fly baby, let’s not pretend here.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “You’re right, I can’t.”

The silence washed over them again. (Y/N)’s eyes trailed to Pete’s hand. She looked at it for a while, just lost in her own world as she absentmindedly ran her thumb over his knuckles. Then, she started thinking about his long fingers inside of her, curling just right to hit that spot inside of her that drove her over the edge every time. She felt a heat growing between her legs, and if she wasn’t in the bath already she was certain she’d be soaked.

“What are you thinking?” Pete asked, breaking her out of her trance. She looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide with the shock of being caught.

“Uh...” she said, trying to think of something to say. She didn’t want to tell Pete she had been having sexual daydreams, but then she realized what was the harm of telling him? They had been together for quite some time, it’s not like she’d scare him off by telling him anything. “I was thinking about your fingers inside of me.”

Pete’s pants grew a bit tighter at this. “Really? Pretty specific thing to be thinking about.”

“Well, I’m here holding your hand. I’m thinking about things that relax me. Your fingers definitely cause me to relax a lot when they’re down there.”

Pete placed his wine glass on the counter next to him and pulled his shirt over his head. (Y/N) watched in slight confusion, before realization washed over her when Pete’s hand disappeared under the water. He nudged her legs open and slowly ran two fingers up and down her slit, teasingly.

“You feel so wet already baby,” he joked, a smile on his face.

(Y/N) couldn’t contain her own smile and giggles. “You’re such a fucking do - ”

Her playful insult was silenced as Pete pushed two fingers deep inside of her. (Y/N) gasped, her head falling back against the wall behind her again. Pete started pumping in and out of her very slowly, making sure he wasn’t hurting her with what he was doing.

“Is this what you were thinking about baby?” he asked her.

“Fuck Pete,” she breathed. “Fuck yes this feels so good.”

Pete curled his fingers in a way that made it easier for him to hit the right spots. (Y/N) let out a moan and tried to buck her hips against his fingers, but he used his other hand to ease her back down.

“Just sit back and let me take care of you baby,” he said. “I’ll take all your stress away.”

Pete’s erection was becoming nearly unbearable as he watched (Y/N) coming undone in front of him, and felt her warmth wrapped around his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to take her right there, to really fuck any stress left out of her. But at the same time, he didn’t want that. He just wanted to make her feel good, to wipe the memories of he day away.

(Y/N)’s free hand wrapped around Pete’s bicep. Her nails dug so deep into his arm that Pete knew there would be marks there once she pulled away, maybe even full on scratches or blood, but he’d wear the marks with pride. He usually did whenever she left them on him.

He began to speed up his pumping. He felt (Y/N)’s thighs clenching around his hand, as if she were trying to hold him there. Breathy moans were escaping from her lips as he body began to tremble.

“Fuck Pete,” she breathed. “Fuck, I’m starting to feel close.”

“Yeah?” Pete asked. “Are you gonna cum all over my fingers baby?”

In response, (Y/N) moaned again. Pete picked up his pace a little more, causing her moans to become screams of pleasure. He could feel the tension building up in her as he body prepared to let go.

Pete leaned forward to kiss (Y/N) gently on her lips. “Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you.”

With those words, (Y/N) came completely undone. She screamed Pete’s name so loud he was sure the neighbors would hear her. He felt her clenching around his fingers and he wished he could actually feel her wetness and not just that of the water in the tub.

(Y/N) was breathing heavily when Pete was finally able to pull away from her. He stood and grabbed a nearby hand towel to begin drying his hands. (Y/N) watched him, a cloud of lustful fog still blocking her as she tried to recover from her high. Her eyes shifted down to Pete’s crotch area, where she noticed the evergrowing buldge.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” she asked, a lazy smile on her face.

Pete smiled back at her and leaned down to kiss her again. “That’s okay babe. You enjoy your bath until it gets cold.”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed together. “You don’t want me to do anything for you?”

“Well I didn’t say that,” Pete said. “But for now I just want you to unwind. We can fuck later on. I’ll make you forget your entire day then, maybe even your own name if you’re lucky.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I hope I’ll be lucky then.”

She smiled as she watched Pete leave the room to change his clothes. Despite her teasing words, she felt like she was already the luckiest girl in the world to have such an amazing man by her side.

[cinnamonest]

Daily Life - Yandere Childe, Zhongli, Xiao

A continuation of the earlier post about Kaeya and Diluc

Content Warnings: n/s/f//w mentions/themes/stuff (but not like, explicit detail), fem reader, normal yandere stuff

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Childe's a busy guy. He wakes you up every morning, usually pretty sweetly. He'll nuzzle up against your face, mumbling a "good morning" into your ear. He's sweet, but, you gotta get up when he tells you to. And you have to be the one to make food, he likes watching you walk around.

If he's gone, he is again one to give darling a surprising amount of freedom. He has the highest quality of security available and all, so he allows some roaming. That and, in a sorta terrifying thought, he's one hundred percent confident that even if you got away, he could find you, so he's not even too worried about escaping. He's so confident that you'll never truly escape him, which frankly is pretty intimidating for darling to realize. He'll get you things you like and stuff to do, stimulate your mind and all that, probably as time goes on will leave you chore lists and things you're required to do for him or else.

When he gets back, he's very tired usually, will expect you to make him food and be sweet and greet him at the door when he comes back, preferably on your knees. If you're not, he'll get irritated, especially if you're trying to hide. If you're just asleep or something, he might excuse it and find it cute. But he does a lot for you, you know, the least you can do is this one little thing. If he's had a particularly bad day, he'll be extra irritated, so it's wise to follow this command, and be ready to have all of his irritation taken out on you the moment he gets back. You're his favorite little stress ball to stuff and squeeze.

For days off, as I've said before he's one of the few that will willingly take you outside, and unlike Kaeya from the last routine post he's not in a bad mood about it either. He likes to show you off, likes walking in public holding hands or with his arm around you so that people can see, it gives him a sort of pride, and honestly he likes mimicking a "normal" relationship. But just know you're on a tight leash. Not literally of course... yet. He lays it out very clearly exactly how you are to behave when going outside, not speaking to others and not going out of his sight. Any attempts to make a scene, try to get a stranger to help etc will be dealt with fairly harshly. And don't think about pulling some covert, sneaky shit like trying to look at a stranger with the "help me" facial expression or trying to silently mouth something, slip a written message to a waitress etc -- he'll be watching you closely enough to pick up on any of that, and honestly that will set him off more than blatantly trying to make a scene. You will be immediately headed home to get an attitude adjustment since you can't behave.

Later on, he'll want you to accompany him to his work sometimes, on those days that whatever he has to do involved more sitting down than fighting - paperwork, important meetings, etc. He likes your presence, of course, you make the time pass more quickly. But really this is, more than anything, because he's an arrogant show-off. He'll give you something to fiddle with but will just sit you on his lap throughout the whole time, gently stroking your thigh or resting his head on your shoulder, making you wear embarrassingly revealing things and making sure everyone sees, be it the entire group in a wide meeting hall or some subordinate come to have a one-on-one talk, or even his superiors, thanking them for them letting him bring his pet to work. It even allows him to get in some good de-stressing during the middle of the day when no one else is around. Expect lots of bring-your-fucktoy-to-work days like that.

Of course, not every day is spent out, though. He also has days he'd rather just stay at home. These days are usually after a long period of difficult work and late nights, so he's exhausted. Expect lots of naps, just cuddles and an arm wrapped around your waist (with a solid iron grip, of course). May or may not progress to slow cuddlefucking, who knows (yes it always does). He gets all whiny and demanding because he's soooo tired, so he'll make you get on top after a few rounds.

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Honestly we all envy my Zhongli's darling already, but God he's the best to wake up to. He just softly kisses the side of your face, running his hands down your sides. He can't let you sleep in too much, it's bad for your health! You can probably beg for a few minutes extra. And God, is it the best to wake up to. He's already got someone (probably one of the other adepti, a person, who knows) to make you food, and it's never skimping out either, it's always tons of food and your favorite things, too. Within limits, of course, can't have you eating nothing but things that are bad for you. He's also one that will get you tons of things to do throughout the day, virtually anything you ask for, he'll pay for (well... someone will, but you'll think he did, at least). He actually might also give you a list of very simple tasks to do, just to give you some motivation, since even if you have a lot to do, having no tasks and only play can get depressing without the sense of accomplishment. But he's much more lenient on your completion of all of them.

He's always reluctant to leave and gives you a lot of headpats and kisses before finally heading out for  the day, always taking time to contemplate whether or not he can just take the day off. During the day you'll stay in the confinements of your cage, be that an abode or a building somewhere, making sure you stand zero chance of ever getting out. If you force his hand (read: multiple escape attempts), he'll reluctantly have to limit your roaming abilities, but once you're confined to a smaller cage and have some privileges taken away, he's certain you'll be on your best behavior to get out again, and maybe be a little more grateful and understanding in the future. Once he gets back, it's generally a very nice time, he likes to lead a quiet life and will want to hear all about your day, what you did, see the progress on all those little projects you've been working on for art or music or whatever hobby you've taken up to pass the time. If he's had a bad day, he'll probably tell you about it, but you know, put it in terms simple enough for you to understand, since you wouldn't normally get such complicated matters.

On very very rare occasions, not nearly as often as Childe, he might take you to on his day with him, probably not during normal workdays, but for some kind of special day -- a large meeting, or the opposite, a day where he has nothing to do but slow paperwork alone in an office. The sunlight is good for you, and he'll bring stuff for you to do too. To be honest, it's not as obvious nor as obnoxiously vocal about it as Childe, but he also does enjoy having your presence in front of others, letting them see you. The things you'll have to wear aren't nearly as obscenely lewd as Childe's either, but they're not entirely wholesome either.

He really likes having off days. On those days, he'll probably want to take you somewhere, generally will do whatever you want to do. He's incredibly knowledgeable on everything in the area, and would probably also really like going out somewhere secluded in nature, rather than in the city, like a nice view from the nearby mountains or the like, and just spend a day there. It's nice, and far away from prying eyes that can't recognize your face off the missing person posters or witness the obscene things that may or may not take place up there.

 Spending time home is always nice too, though, just quietly going about the day and doing whatever you want, although inevitably taking breaks for much-needed... displays of physical affection. And he tries so hard to be gentle, but he also has a lot of stress pent up that may just come out and result in being a bit rougher than usual, but he's always apologetic afterward, making sure you're alright. He's also pretty strict about the time you go to bed. Making sure you get enough sleep and all that.

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Xiao's poor, poor darling. You always wake up to him shaking you awake. He's impatient. Once he feels you've had enough sleep, he'll get you up like that. Don't try to get more sleep-in time, he's not very gracious on that, will simply huff and yank you up. Otherwise, the mornings can be... Sweet. It's not like he's trying to be so cold all the time; if you're well behaved he can be pretty loving, even if he doesn't quite know how to be gentle. He just has... Low tolerance.

Xiao is very quiet for the most part, and the mornings have a sort of silent peacefulness provided it's one of your days that you don't choose to be difficult. He likes to watch you go about the morning. It's a little creepy to be honest? He just sits there nearby and watches you move around, make food, brush your hair or teeth or whatever. He'll eat whatever you make him, even if it's not one of his extremely limited liked items. He might complain, though.

During the times he IS gone, well, it's extremely boring for poor darling. Early on, or if you've done something to warrant it (read: literally the slightest word of disagreement, a tone of voice he doesn't like, even a facial expression he deems defiant) you'll be bound to the bed, hand and foot. Nothing to do whatsoever but stare at the ceiling. It's your own fault, if you were good maybe it wouldn't be like this, he says. When you are good, and have a nice long-time record of being extremely pleasant and sweet to him - and I mean a LONG time - he might - might - finally let you be unbound aside from a long anklet chain connecting you to the bed. Not like you have much else to do, though. Maybe he'll get you books if you ask nicely and grovel at his feet. But that's it. He doesn't like the thought of giving you too much entertainment. If being alone is mind-numbingly boring, well, you'll enjoy time with him that much more. Eventually you'll reach a point where you're begging him not to leave, he hopes, even if he would never admit to that. So what he'll do is balance it, give you just enough to keep your whining down, but keep making sure you're miserable when alone. He only allows you "activities" (read: a book) on certain days of the week, or every other day, every third day, something like that. And you can only get a new book once a month or so. And it's whatever he finds, not just what you want, so he'll start dropping you with encyclopedias and textbooks and other dull things. You can't complain, after all he IS giving you something to do. If you're gonna complain, well, how would you like to have the reading privilege revoked entirely? And that shuts you up. So, really, poor darling's days are very very bleak, dull, and empty, when alone.

He doesn't really have a "end of the day." His "job" is more or less a 24/7 thing, he goes when he's needed and when he's not needed he'll be with you. Usually it's a semi normal schedule but it can lead to odd intervals - you may have times he's gone for a full day or so, and then times where he's there for a whole day, etc. Spending time together is quiet, but he's surprisingly fond of physical affection. He spends a lot of time just... alone with his thoughts. Spacing out and thinking, looking up at the sky, except, well, now it's him, his thoughts, and you. You'll spend it with him too, iron grip locked around your waist so you can't pull away from his lap. He's also one to need to get out the... frustrations of life through physical activity at night.

Days he's there, again, it's pretty quiet, he's not much one for extensive conversation, of course. If you talk, he'll listen, but don't expect him to say much back. He likes the sound of your voice, one of the only people he doesn't prefer silence to, so long as you're not whining about wanting to leave. He doesn't really have a lot of sitting-down type of work to do, so if he's spending a whole day time with you, it means he's specifically worked it out so that he's able to do so for that purpose. He'll probably prompt you to speak, it's super awkward really. An awkward comment about this or that that he clearly wants you to start talking about, and he'll talk back just a little bit, with his own brand of harsh pessimism -- but that's just the only way he really knows how to communicate, he's not actually trying to shut you down when he responds to everything negatively. It's the most bizarre bonding time, but bonding nonetheless. He also likes to watch you do tasks -- to make food, even if it's just for yourself, to clean and walk around doing your little tasks. He may or may not eventually discover a fondness for forcing you to walk around naked, poor darling.

I've mentioned before that his drive is reactive - it gets heavier when he's with you. So really, your day will be filled with little fun intervals of very spontaneous fucking. Like, he has no sense of mood or timing. It's completely random, very forceful, will just loop his hands under your arms and scoop you up and carry you over to bed at any random moment, interrupting your speech even. Or, sometimes the bed is too far, and just bending you over is easier. And then, he'll just carry on like nothing happened.

He's not one to rant and rave about his day by default, and especially not early on. In the later stages, though, once he's comfortable with you, you might find him slipping out a frustration here or there, a passing comment about something upsetting that happened, and if you pry at it, he'll end up talking, much more than usual. He kind of doesn't even realize he's starting to ramble a bit, and if he catches himself he'll stop and mutter something about it being unimportant anyway.

Bonus little hc: He asks you how your day was. Every day that he's not with you. It's a routine - he started doing it because from his limited knowledge of human relationships, it's the "normal," so he tries to emulate what he feels like is normal in a relationship. It's kind of funny, well, not for poor darling, it feels mocking. Like, how do you think my day was, Xiao? All tied up and left only to stare at the ceiling? If you get all sarcastic with him like that, though, he might see it as grounds for punishment, so, be snarky at your own risk.

[astrella-writes]

prompt | anonymous asked: Could I get some general relationship headcanons (with some fluff please!) for Chishiya, Arisu, and Kuina 🥺👉👈 let me know if you need a more specific ask! :)

warnings | written with the intention of female pronouns but can be read as gender neutral, very minor suggestive implications, mentions of alcohol, nicotine and eating habits, might be considered kinda cheesy oops, the use of the pet name ‘bunny’.

word count | 1.4K

author’s note | ‘m loving this request. this is written with the intention of it being pre-borderlands. 

Shuntarō Chishiya 

- Frequenting local cafes for routinely study dates. He helps you with topics that you may struggle on and you buy him the bizarre flavored ‘treat of the week’ as a thank you. He jokes around that you’re probably using him as a test subject, because who would order sweet potato brownies with the premise that they would taste good. Much to his surprise, they actually do.

- Visiting a cat cafe once, but not getting around to completing any work. The image of Chishiya cradling a fluffy kitten close to his chest and holding softened eye contact with it is now your permanent lock screen. He has a matching lock screen of you holding a kitten from under the armpits and touching noses with it.

- Learning new skills together. Chishiya is pretty much down for anything that he considers interesting enough. That’s how you ended up frustratingly trying to follow along to a complex origami cat tutorial at 2 in the morning as Chishiya worked quietly with his earbuds in, listening to a different tutorial. Only once he presented you with a perfect paper flower did you smile for the first time in the past hour, the frustration dissipating. That very flower has claimed its indefinite place on your bedside table, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

- Doing escape rooms together every so often. It baffles you to some degree how he figures things out so easily, but then again, you’ve known how smart your boyfriend was since the day you met so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. You just can’t help but admire him, and voice these admirations out loud. Your compliments being the only ones which truly affect him.

- Despite how genius your boyfriend is, you remain concerned about the mental toll college might have on him. If he is stressed, he barely gives it away, but you’ve grown to read through his indifference and pick up when something is wrong - even if he’s attempting to hide it for your disburden. You allow him to de-stress in your arms, playing with the tips of his hair and speaking through what has got him so troubled.

- Late night dates that consist of trips to the corner store where you buy your favourite snacks and walk down to the beach together. It’s a relaxing way to wind down after a stressful week filled with work and college. If it’s not too cold that night, you substitute sitting on your usual bench for a stroll along the sand. If he finds a pretty seashell, Chishiya will give it to you wordlessly.

- He buys you a lot of small things that reminds him of you. A cute keychain he found by chance while buying groceries, splurging his money on a random claw machine because he spotted a plushie character from that show you really like, buying your favourite snacks to calm you down before a big exam that you’ve been studying really hard for. It’s the little things that show how much he really loves you.

Ryōhei Arisu

- Offering him a place to stay for a few days if he needs a break from his family, Arisu will pack up his gaming laptop along with him and you two will game with each other side by side. He anticipates the moment you rest your head on his shoulder and once you do, he rests his own head upon yours with a small: “you tired, bunny?”

- Being extremely supporting and non-judgemental on the topic of him getting a job. You search listings almost daily and send any promising ones through to him, leaving an encouraging message afterwards in hopes he gets the right intention. You care for him deeply and don’t want to see his father eventually kicking him out the house for being unemployed and making the situation ten times more difficult for him.

- Helping him get out more and introducing him to places he quickly grows to love. A quaint coffee shop with a grassy roof hidden deep within the cracks that he never would have found if it weren’t for you. It’s become your usual spot for dates, and Arisu enjoys the tranquility of it all.

- Going on trips to the game store together, even though Arisu usually just buys all his games online, and he’s pretty sure you do too. Regardless, it’s an excuse to meet up and hang out for a few hours after, something he’s found has become more enthralling than gaming. 

- Staying up on video call into the late hours of the night as you both battle it out on some mmorpg. You’re confused when you see his idle avatar and look over at your phone screen to find him staring at you in a trance. It catches you off guard at first, but seeing him snap back to reality upon getting caught and getting all flustered left you replaying the scene over in your head for days later.

- Dates to the arcade, because of course. You two definitely hog a specific game with a line of pouting children waiting impatiently to get their chance. Arisu only agrees to move on when you mention a new game you spotted earlier. There is no new game, you just feel bad for the kids. Once he’s caught on, you merely give his lips a quick peck and you’re instantly forgiven.

- Playing in one of those immersive game machines with the curtains on both sides, only for Arisu to stare at you dumbly, leaving you a flustered and confused mess. This usually leads to a one-sided lean in and a small make out, only for an innocent kid to pull back the curtain and run away mortified. Their screams are the highlight of your boyfriend’s day, and you swear he’s holding some mental record of how many kids he traumatize through doing this.

Hikari Kuina

- Working at the same clothing store and having Kuina intervene whenever you’re faced with a rude customer. She might not be all too friendly if they insulted you, and if getting fired is the cost of standing up for you, then so be it. You’d quit alongside her and find some place new to work.

- Helping tend to her sickly mother in hospital, whom you had made speechless upon your first visit. She was delightfully thrilled upon finally being introduced to her daughter’s significant other, Kuina sharing to you afterwards that she hadn’t seen her mother smiling so brightly in a long time. You always present her mother with gifts upon each visit, whether it be flowers or a small cake. She’s become like your own mother, and so you help pay towards hospital bills as well.

- Comforting Kuina if she ever gets upset about her past (especially her relationship with her father) or her mother’s current poor health. You make her feel so valid; it leaves her a sobbing mess in your arms as you comfort her with soothing strokes and affectionate mumbles. Once her wailing has calmed, you offer to make her favourite - hot chocolate topped with cream.

- Constant sleepovers, which include wearing face masks, ordering takeout, watching some sappy romance before switching it over to an action movie and sipping on some cheap beer. The buzz of the alcohol always makes you more daring as you suggest showering together, and you’re never turned down by your equally audacious girlfriend. 

- Helping her overcome her nicotine addiction and being the initial person to suggest chewing on a dummy cigarette whenever she felt the urge to smoke. Her mother couldn’t thank you enough for getting her into this, expressing her hidden fear of having to watch Kuina smoke herself into ill health or worse, a premature grave. 

- In return, she looks out for your own well-being: reaching out to hold your hand before you both cross the street, showing up with lunch the next day at work if she thinks you haven’t been eating as much lately, keeping headache pills in her bag ever since you complained about a migraine that one time, keeping an extra umbrella in the break room just in case it rains later that day and you’ll need one.

- It’s never a dull moment dating Kuina, always planning fun and exciting dates like getting drunk in a private karaoke room only for it to lead to sloppy make outs. The one time she was so insistent on riding the kiddies train at the amusement park, only for the both of you to fall off once you reached the sharp bend in the tracks. It left you both a giggling mess, but the pain afterwards definitely made the whole situation regrettable. 

[leiawritesstories]

A New Partnership

Rowaelin Month, Day 12: Delayed Love Confession. Ballet AU :) Sort of played with the whole “love confession” thing.....

Word count: 1167

Warnings: Language, innuendo

After such a long and grueling day, all Aelin wanted to do was go back to the apartment she shared with two of her fellow soloists and crash. Fridays suck, she had decided. First company class at eight-thirty, then in-studio rehearsals until nearly one o’clock, followed by a break barely long enough to swallow some food and water, and then studio or stage rehearsals until seven. 

And because it was a Friday, there was a performance at eight-fifteen. Thank all the gods she wasn’t in this cast, but she was an understudy, so she had to be in the wings. 

She tugged off her rehearsal tutu and plopped it onto the rack, then dropped down onto the floor by her overflowing bag and untied her pointes, sighing in pure bliss as her feet were freed. And since her right shoe bent nearly in half when she pushed on it, the shoes were good and dead. Aelin riffled through the contents of her bag and located a new pair, sewn and ready for wear if she needed them. Good. One less thing to worry about on the off chance she had to perform. But gods, she hoped she didn’t need to. 

Because Don Quixote rehearsals that day had been hell.

When she first saw she’d been cast as one of the Kitris, Aelin had nearly passed out from shock. Then Dorian Havilliard, British soloist and a great friend of hers, had practically tackled her in the hallway, he was so excited to be cast as her Basilio, and the joy of a major soloist role set in. During the first rehearsals, the solos, that joy wore off real fast, replaced by an endless string of shit, that’s a lot of choreography, goddamn character skirts, that’s a sissone arabesque, not attitude, SPOT YOUR TURNS!, and stress. 

By the time pas de deux rehearsals started, she’d finally got most of her solo work down, but was nervous for the Act III grand pas de deux, given the lifts it entailed and how perfectly precise the timing had to be. She and Dorian had been partners before, so he knew how she adjusted to lifts, but fish dives were another beast. They worked at that particular pas for a solid week before learning the rest, and even spent some early mornings in the upstairs studio going over the lift sequences. 

Last week, Peter and Delaney, the pas de deux rehearsal coaches, had asked Aelin and Dorian to rehearse with Rowan Whitethorn and Nesta Archeron, the principals who were Basilio and Kitri in first cast. Peter and Delaney were notorious for asking partnered pairs to switch partners for a rehearsal, so Aelin braced herself for the potential that she could very well be stuck with Whitethorn for an hour and a half. 

Not that she’d mind being stuck to that piece.

But she was used to Dorian’s partnering. So, when the coaches announced a partner swap, Aelin’s usual rehearsal calm gave way to nerves, which she tried to squash down before dancing. Rowan, damn him, noticed her trying to steady her breathing, and whispered something to the effect of “I promise not to drop you.” She half-grinned, her nerves easing. 

“You do that and I’ll battement you with my pointes, Whitethorn.” He gulped. 

To everyone’s shock, Aelin and Rowan’s pairing had more natural chemistry that Aelin and Dorian, Nesta and Rowan, and Nesta and Dorian. The coaches held a quick whispered conference after watching the two run the grand pas, and then informed them that they would be making this swap a casting change. Aelin distinctly heard Dorian try to muffle his exclamation of “Bloody fucking hell!” 

So began her remarkably quick transition to a completely different partner. Rowan was twenty-three and had joined The Orynth Ballet last season, transferring in as a principal from Doranelle National Ballet. He and Aelin shared company class and little else, save a few rehearsals where she was understudying his cast partner. It was a shock to both of them how easily they clicked, both as dancers and in their roles. Aelin loved Kitri, loved the fiery, sassy Spanish personality she got to become, and she absolutely loved throwing a little bit of extra flirtation into her Kitri’s interactions with Rowan’s Basilio. 

After all, she wasn’t about to just admit she liked him.

So she threw the day’s dead pointes into her bag, pulled on sweats and a wrap, and made herself get up and walk back to the dressing rooms to change into performance tights and put on some makeup. As an understudy, she didn’t need to do full stage makeup, but some foundation and lipstick and false lashes would be good enough if she had to suddenly run onstage. Dressed and made up, Aelin made her way down to the stage entrance, smothering a groan before entering. She set her bag down in the back of the stage right wing and slid down onto the floor, stretching her tired legs. 

“Feeling the effects of the day, are we now?” drawled a low male voice from her left. 

“Shut the hell up, Whitethorn,” she grumbled, “but yes.”

He settled down alongside her. “Who’re you here for?”

“Technically, Alanna, but Brian had me learn all the corps parts so I can step in for anyone. Because he’s lazy.”

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

Rowan shook his head. “He really is a dick sometimes.”

Aelin snorted. “Sometimes, says the star transfer. Welcome to the company.”

They fell into silence for a while, just watching their company mates onstage. During an interlude corps waltz, one of the other soloists came over to talk to Aelin and made extra sure to cast a few appreciative glances Rowan’s way. He saw Aelin snicker and wiggle her eyebrows at one of her friend’s comments, and poked her arm once her friend left. 

“Care to share what, exactly, you found so entertaining?”

She smirked. “I won’t repeat her exact words, but let’s just say Cora wouldn’t mind a piece of your Spandexed ass.”

“She won’t get any of it,” he said dryly.

“Oh? And who would?”

“I’m looking at her.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “Rowan--I--You’ve literally been here for less than six months!”

“And head over heels for you for five, at least.” She just stared at him, eyes wide. “Shit, Ae, I didn’t mean to scare you or--”

“I’m not scared, Whitethorn, just...shit. I didn’t think you’d grow the cojones to admit it. Thought I’d have to tell you how I get myself off with fantasies of you before you’d ever say anything.”

Rowan choked on whatever he was about to say. When he finally stopped coughing into his arm, he gasped, “Gods, I love talking to you. Every time. Every time, you manage to shock me with something like...that.”

She grinned. “You do?”

“I do. Hell yes I do. Will you go to dinner with me after this show?”

“Only if you buy me chocolate hazelnut cake.”

“Deal.”

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - Chapter 5

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here, chapter 3 here and chapter 4 here

Read this fic on AO3

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Elain Beautiful!

Elain’s message made Azriel blush. He even blushed the next day whenever he thought about it.

He had never been called “beautiful” before. Handsome? Yes. Sexy and hot? A few times

But beautiful? Never

He couldn’t stop thinking about the message. Nor could he stop thinking about the fact that she lived in Velaris. Had they ever passed each other on the street? Had he stood behind her in the line at the grocery store?

Had they breathed the same air without knowing it?

Azriel couldn’t help but think back to Rhys and Feyre’s wedding. She had been there, hadn’t she? That same day when he was sitting with Rhys in a suite before the ceremony, she had delivered flowers downstairs. If he had just left the room before the ceremony, he might have met her that day. He was certain that they hadn’t met, even though Nesta was certain that they must have at least seen each other. He knew in his heart that he could never have forgotten her face if he had seen it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her now, and he had only seen her on his screen.

Azriel imagined that she must be even more beautiful in real life.

And now, he could actually find out if that was the case.

He told himself that he didn’t change his usual morning route because he wanted to see her. He told himself that he was tired of running in the park and that a run along the river Sidra would be a nice change of pace. He told himself that he didn’t even think about the fact that Elain’s flower shop was located on River Street, looking out over the Sidra.

He told himself all these things, but deep down, he knew that he was lying. It felt stupid and idiotic to lie to yourself, but it made him feel a bit better. It made him feel a little less like a creep as he ran along the river.

It was a nice day out. You could tell that summer was turning into fall because of the crisp morning air and the changing colors of the leaves. Velaris was probably the most beautiful during fall, at least according to Azriel. He had always loved fall and always hated summer. He didn’t like the heat. His friend, Cassian, hated summer too because of his allergies. That’s why he and Nesta had opted for a fall wedding.

The city was quiet this early in the morning. Azriel enjoyed the quiet; he always had. He never worked out with music and he couldn’t understand why people wanted to blast stressful tunes in their ears while working out. For Azriel, running was a form of meditation. He was completely alone with his thought and he often felt as if he had his best ideas during his morning runs. Music would have bothered him.

He had mapped out a route along the Sidra that was approximately 5 kilometers long (he always ran 5 km in the morning). It just so happened that Elain’s store could be seen from this route. What a coincidence, he thought, as it came into view.

In between the lies he had told himself, he had also told himself that she would probably not be there this early. He just wanted to see the place where she worked, but she would most likely not even be there. It was less creepy if she wasn’t there, which is why he hadn’t walked by in the middle of the day. He didn’t want her to think that he was a stalker. He remembered what Nesta had said about her taste in men, and he was pretty sure that she would never look at him again if she thought that he was stalking her.

As he was nearing her shop, he felt his palms sweat and his heart race. Totally normal reactions to a workout, he told himself. And all of a sudden, he found himself across the street from her little shop. It was situated between a small café and a bookshop. The sign above the door was light pink, and swirly green letters read “WALLFLOWER”. That was an interesting name for a flower shop, Azriel thought. Then, he noticed that the lights were on and the door was slightly ajar. Azriel held his breath as he slowed his pace and looked through the window. At first, there was no sign of anyone in there. Then, a door in the back opened, and there she was. She had her hair down today, and she was wearing a dark blue dress over a white t-shirt. Her face was covered by the big bunch of flowers she was carrying. Azriel knew nothing about flowers, but he knew he hated these white and pink things for covering her face. Azriel pulled up his hood, hoping that she wouldn’t see him as he lingered on the other side of the street, hoping for just one look.

She bent over and put the flowers down just by the door. Her hair fell in front of her face and…

That’s when Azriel’s phone rang.

And for once in his life, the sound was on. He had no idea when he had un-muted it, but he could see Elain shift. Shit, she had heard his phone. The door was slightly open and there was no traffic right now which obviously meant that anyone within a 100-meter radius could hear it. And it did not help that someone, probably Cassian, had changed his ringtone to fucking Barbie Girl by Aqua.

Azriel quickly turned away from the shop and started running again. He didn’t even see where he was going as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. “Fuck,” he let out as the female voice in his pocket sang about how fantastic it was to be plastic.

“What?” he answered, ready to rip apart the person that had called him.

“What has your knickers in a twist?” Rhys asked in a fake British accent.

“I’m running.”

“Yeah, I know. You always run at this time of the day. Creature of habit and all that.” Rhys sounded chipper. Who the fuck was this happy in the morning?

“What do you want? Didn’t you say that the meeting started at nine today?”

“Yes, Azriel. The meeting starts at nine, but I need you and Cassian to come in earlier. Like now. Where are you?”

“I’m by the Sidra, so it’ll probably take me ten minutes to reach the office if I run,” Azriel answered. “Is this urgent, or can I go home and change?”

“Why are you by the Sidra? You always run in the park?”

“Trying to get out of my comfort zone,” Azriel mumbled, hoping that Rhys would just let it go.

“Well, good for you. And yes, it’s urgent. You can shower here and I know that you keep extra clothes in your desk drawer. See you in ten minutes!”

Azriel groaned. He did not want an emergency meeting right now. He wanted to go home and drown in his shower from the sheer mortification he was feeling.

“Oh, Azriel!” Rhys almost shouted before Azriel could hang up. “Bring coffee.”

Azriel snorted. “I didn’t think you were allowed coffee.”

Azriel could hear the smile in his brother’s voice as he said, “just bring the fucking coffee, Az.”

20 minutes later, Azriel walked into the office with three cups of coffee and a few croissants.

“What’s the emergency?” Azriel asked as soon as he walked through the doors to Rhys’ office.

Cassian was already there, and Rhys had the biggest grin on his face. It made Azriel uncomfortable. Why was he grinning at half-past seven in the morning?

Azriel handed one cup each to Rhys and Cassian while taking one for himself. He didn’t take a seat. He just waited for Rhys to tell him why the hell he was here.

Cass took a sip from his cup and made a disgusted face.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked.

“De-caf, vanilla latte with extra foam.”

“Why? You know that I drink my coffee black.”

“Barbie girl,” was all Azriel said, and from the way Cassian’s face lit up, he could tell that it was, indeed, Cassian who had changed his ringtone.

“Oh, yeah,” Cassian grinned. “great song!”

Azriel rolled his eyes.

Rhys leaned against his desk and took a swig from his own cup. Azriel had not made a funny order for him, but he kind of wish he had. The stupid smile seemed to be permanently etched onto his face. Rhys let out a sound that sounded eerily like a moan.

“God, this tastes like heaven,” he sighed. Azriel liked his coffee as much as any other person, and he guessed that it would taste even better if you had gone without any caffeine for months, but this was still weird.

“Better than your wife?” Cass joked and wiggled his eyebrows.

Rhys shot him a death glare. “Don’t you dare speak about the mother of my future child like that!”

Azriel felt his jaw drop. Did he just say what Azriel thought he said?

He didn’t have time to ask before Rhys lit up again. “Feyre’s pregnant!” he basically shouted.

For a beat, Azriel and Cassian stared at him dumbfounded. Then, Cassian jumped from his chair, embracing Rhys.

“Damn! Finally! Congratulations, man,” he said and patted him hard on the back.

Azriel wasn’t much of a hugger, but even he embraced his brother. “Congrats!”

“How did you find out?” Cassian asked.

“Well, it was all very romantic. I made her breakfast this morning, and she looked at me as if I had put rat-poison in her porridge. Then she threw up. Actually, the first sign was definitely that her boobs got bigger, but she told me to shut up every time I mentioned it.”

“Didn’t need to know that,” Azriel muttered.

Rhys ignored him. “So she took a test, and there were definitely two little pink lines there.”

His entire face was a big smile now, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile too. He was so happy for Rhys and Feyre. They were going to be great parents.

“So, I wanted to tell you that you’re going to be uncles,” he announced.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other. If Azriel wasn’t mistaken, he could see Cassian tear up.

“I’ll be the fun uncle,” Cass exclaimed as if anyone would ever question that.

Azriel took a seat next to Cassian as they continued talking for a while. Az couldn’t help but notice that Rhys seemed almost equally happy about the fact that he was now allowed to eat meat and drink coffee again.

“So, Rhys, just to be clear. You only called us in here this early to tell us that you were going to be a father? That couldn’t wait?”

“Obviously, it couldn’t wait,” Rhys answered matter of factly. “But no, that wasn’t the only reason. There’s a problem with the online subscriptions that I need you to look at.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I have no idea. That’s why I hired you.”

Azriel spent the entire morning sorting out the problem. When he was finally done, it was time for lunch. Since he hadn’t been able to go home and bring the lunch he had prepared, he had to venture out for food. He decided to go to one of his favorite places in town; a small Vietnamese place within walking distance to the office. He ordered Phở and decided to eat his lunch there since he was a bit tired of staring into his computer screen. He took a seat in the corner next to the windows looking out over the street and started a podcast on his phone as he dug into his noodle soup. It was delicious, as always, and he didn’t really pay attention to anything but the food and the podcast. This is why he didn’t notice that someone had sat down at his table until a female voice started speaking to him. He had just shoved some noodles into his mouth as he looked up to see who was talking to him, and his heart almost stopped.

It was her. Flower Girl ASMR. Elain.

Azriel had noodles hanging out of his mouth and his brain couldn’t decide if he should just push all of it into his mouth, or take a bite and let the rest fall into his bowl, so he just sat there; looking and feeling like a fool.

“Azriel,” Elain greeted him when his eyes met hers. His brain couldn’t comprehend that she was here, at one of his favorite restaurants, while he was listening to a true-crime podcast. Azriel quickly swallowed what was in his mouth and removed his headphones. He could feel himself blush.

“Elain,” he breathed, feeling warm and sweaty all of a sudden. “What are you doing here?”

She laughed. She had a lovely laugh. “Nice to see you too. Is it good?”

“What?”

“The food,” she gestured to the bowl, “is it good?”

“Yes, very.” Azriel didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected to see her here. He had actually not expected to ever hear from her again if she had seen him outside of her store this morning.

Elain looked around. “This place is really cute. I’ve never been here before, but my employees recommended it.”

That explained why she was there.

“Yeah, it’s the best Vietnamese food in town.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You seemed to really enjoy it.” She smiled at him, and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that she had seen him eat. He had no idea what he looked like when he ate, but he felt very self-conscious all of a sudden.

“So, you live in Velaris?” Azriel asked after a short stretch of silence.

She nodded. “Mhm. I moved here a few years ago and opened my shop. Speaking of, did I see you this morning?” She was eyeing him suspiciously.

Azriel felt himself go completely still. Fuck. She had seen him. His life was over. Mentally, he started to prepare to move away from Velaris. Maybe he should just move to Australia? Or maybe Siberia? Anywhere far, far away.

He felt himself shake his head in answer, hoping that she believed him.

She raised an eyebrow “Really?”

She looked down at her lap and he could hear her tap on her phone, and then Azriel’s phone, which was conveniently sitting on the table, was ringing.

Fucking Barbie Girl.

He had forgotten to put it on silent again. He was going to murder Cassian.

The screen lit up with her name, and he knew he was busted.

He expected her to tell him to never contact her again. He expected her to kick him under the table and call him a creep. And god, did he deserve it. But, to his surprise, she laughed.

“Interesting music choice. I wouldn’t have pegged as a 90’s euro-pop lover.”

“I’m not,” he muttered under his breath. “This is my friend’s idea of humor. I am going to kill him as soon as I get back to the office.”

“Please don’t. You’re too pretty to go to jail,” Elain joked, and Azriel felt himself blush - again.

He took a deep breath and decided to try to explain the situation. “About this morning... I was just doing my morning workout. I promise I was not stalking you.”

“I didn’t think you were stalking me. I mean, did you even know I lived in Velaris?”

Azriel was just about to answer when Elain’s name was called. She got up and picked up her food from the girl behind the register. She walked back to his table and held up the brown paper bag, “Well, I have to go. My employees need fuel.”

“It was really nice meeting you in real life, Elain. Sorry if I was weird,” Azriel apologized.

“Don’t apologize. I get it. I hate when people interrupt me when I eat. But when I saw you, I just felt like I had to say hi.”

Azriel smiled at her. “It was a welcome interruption. Enjoy your lunch!”

With a quick goodbye, she turned around and started to walk to the door. Azriel cursed himself. Why was he such a weirdo? Couldn’t he have been cool and mysterious? Why did he have to be some kind of awkward noodle-eating monster?

He was just about to drown himself in the remaining food in front of him when he saw Elain turn around and head for his table again.

“Would you like to do this again?” she asked, the question coming out quickly.

Azriel stared at her. “Do what?”

“See each other in real life.”

“Yes,” Azriel blurted out. “I would really like that.”

She gave him the sweetest smile and he felt like he was looking at the sun.

“Great! Are you free this Friday?”

Azriel didn’t tell her that he would make sure to be free any night she wanted to spend time with him.

Instead, he just said, “Yes, I’m free.”

“Good. I’ll text you.”

And with that, Elain exited the restaurant. Azriel was staring at his bowl of cold noodles, not feeling very hungry anymore. She had asked him out.

Elain, the prettiest girl alive, had asked him out.

If he had been a comic book character, he was certain that there would be small, pink hearts flying around his head.

She texted him later that night.

Elain It was lovely running into you today :) But damn that ringtone of yours! I’ve been singing Barbie Girl all day, haha!

Azriel Thank you for interrupting my lunch! Don’t tell anyone this, but I haven’t been able to get that stupid song out of my head either. But don’t worry, I was able to get my hands on my friend’s phone this afternoon and return the favor.

Elain Oooh! Which song did you pick?

Azriel Jizz in my pants by the Lonely Island.

Elain You’re evil! I love it!

Azriel So, for Friday. Would you be up for drinks?

Azriel wanted to suggest dinner, but drinks felt safer. If she thought that he was dull or weird, it would be easier for her to leave.

Elain Yes! That would be great. There is this new place that I’ve been dying to go to. It’s called Rita’s.

Azriel Rita’s it is! Shall we say at 8?

Elain It's a date! I’m really looking forward to it :)

Azriel Me too!

Azriel felt giddy. He felt like a teenager that had just been asked out by his crush. Or at least, he thought that this was the same feeling. He hadn’t really been asked out in High School. Elain had probably been popular, but he had been the emo-guy in the corner, listening to music nobody had ever heard.

However, the more he thought about Friday, the more nervous he became. What if he couldn’t find something interesting to talk about? What if she found him boring?

And worst of all; what the hell should he wear?

[after-witch]

Oh Sugar Sugar (Part 1) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Title: Oh Sugar Sugar (Part 1) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Synopsis: You’re the loving owner of a cute little pastry shop. A new regular falls in love with your pastries... and in love with something else, too. 

Word Count: 1754

Notes: yandere 

You hummed a little to yourself as you set out this morning’s special goodies in the display case. In addition to the daily treats that customers had come to expect--morning muffins, assortments of bagels, fruit tarts and crispy macarons with fillings that changed every day--you had a daily case filled with more detailed small pastries and cakes. You loved making these most of all, because they allowed you to truly take your time and focus on small, lovingly made details that weren’t present on bagels or muffins or the treats people liked to buy in bunches of a dozen.

These treats were far too ornate and time-consuming to make in large quantities, and sometimes there might be only one or two of each treat available. You especially loved when customers would eat these in the cafe itself; you loved seeing them snap photos for social media, then take that first bite and immediately forget about their phones as they savored the caramelized crusts or gooey handmade fillings or delicate chocolate ganaches.

You glanced at the candy pink clock on the wall, noted the time, and undid the latch keeping your little bakery closed to the public. At exactly 7 AM every morning, La Belle Pâtisserie--you secretly hoped that regulars would call it “La Belle’s”--was open for business.

You cheerfully placed yourself behind the register and waited with ease for the customers you’d come to expect every morning. A businessman whose schedule was so tight that you always had his order ready and waiting by the register before you opened up; a mother and daughter on their way to the girl’s school, grabbing macarons and sometimes a special cake to tuck into her lunch bag; ordinary people with ordinary lives, and you couldn’t be happier that your little place was part of that.

After the morning rush, you usually had some time to pop back into the kitchen and work on batches for the after-work rush or sometimes for tomorrow’s case. As you pulled out a tray of cooling blueberry macarons, you heard the doorbell chime go off and immediately piped up, sweet as--well, blueberry macarons: “Just one moment, please!” You heard a noise of affirmation, and as soon as you could set the tray down to cool, you walked back behind the register.

It was an older gentlemen, with salt and pepper hair and a business suit. Maybe a businessman on his break, you thought.

You smiled, bright and peppy. You loved your work and you hoped it always showed through how you interacted with clients, ‘customer service voice’ and all. “Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir? I don’t recognize your face, and I know all of my clients, so I’m happy to help you with any questions you have about our offerings today.”

His smile was cordial, if a bit stiff. “Thank you.” His eyes glanced over your cases, quickly taking in treats, cookies and cakes. Finally his eyes rested on your special case, filled with the delicacies and pastries that you poured your heart and soul into every night. “Do you have more of these in the back? I would like to get as many as possible.”

Your smile turned sympathetic. “Oh, I’m sorry, these are special items and I only have what’s in the case. They take much longer than our other items.”

“Hmm.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then sighed and took a wallet out of his pocket. “I suppose I’ll take everything in that case, then,” he said, gesturing to your special case.

You practically sputtered. “The--the entire case? Are you sure, that’s a lotta--I mean, the total will be… are you sure?”

He gave a low, throaty chuckle. “I’m perfectly sure, miss.” He handed over a few large bills, enough to cover everything in the case and then sum. “I assume you accept tips. Please keep the remainder as a tip to make up for the pain of packing all these up.”

You accepted the money gratefully, stuttering out a few questions about bags before practically dashing around the register area like a mad chicken as you dutifully packed up each and every item. Of course, you took care to pack them as nicely as you would for someone buying just a single pastry--presentation was about the entire package, not only the pastry itself but the box, the ribbon, the daintily embossed logo in the center.

You thanked the man profusely on his way out, and when the door shut behind him--how he managed to balance all of those boxes, you’ll never know--you immediately yanked your cellphone from your apron pocket and texted your best friend about the enormously large and unusual sale.

**

The older gentlemen, as it turned out, became another one of your regulars. A few times a week he would come in and make a large purchase, leaving you with a nice tip. Once it became clear that he liked to empty out your entire specialty case, you began making a few extras each evening, since you didn’t want your other regulars to feel put-out by a complete lack of your familiar special pastries and cakes. It took more time, and you found yourself napping during your lunch break to catch up on much needed-rest, but the happiness of your customers was a deeply entrenched priority for you.

The older man always came in the late morning, during a lull, which was why you found yourself almost gaping when you turned around from your not-quite-closing-but-getting-there cleaning and saw him standing at the register.

“Oh!” You said, turning on your customer service smile. “I’m surprised to see you here this late!” You took a moment to look him over, and noticed that he looked slightly disheveled. It was unusual, but then, he was perhaps rushing to your shop to make it before it closed.

“I’m sorry to come this close to closing,” he said, slightly out of breath, confirming your suspicions. “But it’s an emergency.” He paused. “Well, a pastry emergency. I need one of your cakes.”

You chuckled. “You know, I shouldn’t say things like this, but too many sweets might not be good for you! I hope you aren’t eating them all at once.”

“Ahh,” he said, fiddling with his front suit pocket. For a moment you worried that you may have offended them. Good going, you thought to yourself, being rude to a loyal customer.

“Actually, I’m not a fan of sweets.” Your confusion must have shown on your face, so he quickly continued. “I’m buying them for an… associate. He can’t get enough of them. Especially when he’s busy working on something stressful--but he doesn’t want cakes from other bakeries now, only yours. Which is why I came so late, you see.”

“Ohhh.” It makes sense. The idea that someone wanted one of your cakes so much that they avoided other bakeries and sent someone running down before you closed is incredibly flattering, though you can’t help feel a twinge of sympathy for the older man who’s been running--well, cake errands.

“In that case!” You smiled, setting aside your flattery and slight pity. “I will pick something special out for your friend. Hopefully it will help him de-stress! One moment please.” You quickly dart into the kitchen and head to your decorating table. You were just finishing up a cake that was supposed to go in the case for tomorrow morning, but you didn’t have any specialty cakes left in the case. It was a crepe cake, strawberry flavored, with a special hardened chocolate ganache top.

You quickly grabbed some boxes and ribbons to pack it up, but paused. He said his associate was stressed, and this associate was technically a great regular customer of yours, so why not add something extra nice? You picked up an icing tube and quickly scooped a batch of strawberry icing inside. With a practiced hand, you made a few strawberry shaped dollops on the chocolate disc; you dipped a toothpick on the pot of chocolate ganache and used them to make the seeds. Then, almost as an afterthought, you used the tube to add small, decorative hearts next to the strawberries.

You took great care to wrap the box up extra nicely, tying the ribbon picture-perfect, before you brought it out to the register. You dutifully took the payment (and, as you noticed, another excellent tip) and held out the box for inspect. The elder gentlemen took the box and, upon noticing that you’d written something on the top, raised both of his eyebrows, but said nothing. He thanked you for finding something suitable and promised he’d be back again soon.

Little did you know that your sweet little gesture would be your undoing.

**

Watari set the box down on the coffee table in front of L, who glanced up from a laptop screen.

“The video?”

Watari fiddled with his front pocket, then pulled out a tiny electronic piece from inside. “Just as you asked.”

L nodded approvingly. “Good. Hook it up to that monitor.”

Appeased, L finally glanced down at the cream-colored box, wrapped with a dusty pink ribbon and finished off with the personal scrawl you’d delighted in writing earlier.

It was L’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Watari watched as his lifted the box up with both his hands, bringing it inches away from his face for inspection.

L set the box in his lap, then brought his thumb up to his lips. “Watari. Make the arrangements. I want to meet them as soon as possible.”

He retraced your loopy scrawl on the top of the cake box with his finger, seemingly entranced.

“Please enjoy…. made… with love.”

[guardianofrivendell]

The Way to a Hobbit’s Heart

Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbo Baggins (Bagginshield)

Requested: Yes and no! This piece is part of “The Hobbit Discord Server’s Holiday Gift Exchange 2020″ and is my gift to @misfit-with-a-pen​ 💖

Warnings: oh my goodness, all the fluff! I can’t! Also Sassy Bilbo because it’s still me who wrote this :) 

Summary: When Bilbo enjoys a nice afternoon walk in the Shire, he notices a smell... A rather foul smell, if he was honest. When he comes closer to his home, the smell seems to intensify. It couldn't come from his house now, could it? Because Thorin was home.... Alone. Oh dear!

A/N: This story couldn’t exist without the help of @xxbyimm​! She is such an amazing and fantastic person and always ready to listen to me rant about ideas, complaining about everything and gave me TONS of advice on top of that. How wonderful is that?

Bilbo always favored late afternoon walks over morning strolls.

Though he knew most of his neighbors wouldn’t agree with him and probably would think of him as even more peculiar than they already did if they knew, he just couldn’t help himself. 

You see, it was the way the sun hung low in the sky, giving everything it shone upon a warm golden glow. Furthermore, as most of the hobbit community was too occupied prepping the most important meals of the day, the town was practically deserted.

This meant Bilbo could enjoy the beautiful sceneries in peace without having to get involved in friendly banter and polite greetings. And finally - the temperature was nor too warm or too cold, which was just perfect. 

But there was nothing better than an afternoon walk in early spring. Birds were building their nest, flying past his head with twigs in their little beaks. 

It reminded him of that one time a thrush had landed on Lobelia’s straw hat and had absolutely wrecked the damn thing. It took her a while to notice and Bilbo had had the greatest difficulty in keeping a straight face. She went running through the Shire afterwards, screaming about a vicious bird attack. Since that day he couldn’t help but snicker every time he saw a thrush.

Yes, Bilbo loved his walks indeed. But he loved his home just as much.

It wouldn’t be long before any respectable Hobbit started working in their garden again after the winter break and every yard and patio would get overflowed with a soft and subtly sweet flowery scent. It wasn’t any different in his garden. 

The flower buds of the early bloomers were starting to show, some of them already in their lovely, bright colours. Just a few more days and he could bury his nose in the daffodils, tulips or primroses, taking in their flowery scent.  It was a moment Bilbo looked forward to every single year, but now he could finally share it with his husband Thorin. 

To everyone’s surprise, this grumpy dwarf had warmed up to the art of gardening. Under Bilbo’s patient supervision, they were able to turn their neglected patch of land into the beautiful garden it was today.  

Bilbo smiled to himself at the thought of his husband. He came a long way to get here... Both of them did. Literally and figuratively. 

Thorin had been under a lot of stress for a long time without barely any chance to breathe: the rebuilding of Erebor, restoring trade agreements, bringing his people back to the mountain, … It never stopped and he was close to getting a burn-out.

Bilbo had seen it coming from miles away and had raised the alarm on Thorin’s health. Bilbo’s home in the Shire proved to be the perfect place to get a much needed break from ruling a Kingdom.  

The mountain was in good hands with Fíli and Kíli as his advisor - Balin was still there to keep an eye on them - and the peace and quiet of the Shire was wearing off on Thorin. He was finally able to relax and enjoy the time with Bilbo.Even so, they couldn’t stay away forever and they’d made plans to return to the mountain before the annual Durin’s Day celebration.  

That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the time that was still left.

Bilbo continued his way on the path that would eventually lead him back to his home, he stopped when he smelled something odd. He sniffed a few times, tilting his head sideways. What in the…?  

Bilbo couldn’t tell what the smell reminded him of, and yet it somehow seemed familiar. Was Lobelia trying to burn down her house again with another attempt at copying his famous rabbit stew? 

The closer he got to his home, the stronger the scent became. It couldn’t come from his house now, could it? Thorin was home so nothing serious could have happened.

Bilbo’s eyes widened.  

Thorin was home… alone.  

“Oh dear,” he murmured.

Thorin was not yet entirely used to living like a hobbit, still adjusting to life in the Shire. The more delicate, joie-de-vivre way of life that suited the hobbits didn’t always go well with the sturdy, rather head-on approach and maybe a tad brute way of the Dwarrows. He definitely wasn’t the domestic type. Yet.

Bilbo hurried up the lane to his front yard, struggled to open the gate in his haste and made his way inside. When the door closed behind him, it felt like someone had slapped him in the face.

Oh yeah, the smell definitely came out of his house. He coughed a few times, and his eyes started to water. He completely missed the leftover trails of smoke near the ceiling, and that was maybe for the better. 

“Thorin?” he squeaked between coughs. “Love?”

No answer. Was he even here? And what was that pungent smell? It almost smelled like an onion died a painful death and was left to rot! But with added spices. Now he almost wished it was Lobelia’s cooking instead... 

He left the entrance hall and stepped further into their home, making his way to the study. If Thorin was home, he would probably be there. Bilbo hoped to find his other half hunched over a book, or too focused on writing a letter to his nephews to hear his calls. Not that he didn’t trust Thorin to find his way back home on his own… okay fine, maybe he didn’t.  

Before he reached the study, his eye fell on the pantry. A rare curse escaped his mouth.

Empty jars, most of them tipped over, crumbs and pieces of vegetables on the ground together with a puddle of liquid that Bilbo wasn’t too keen on investigating further. 

He stood frozen in the round doorway. What had happened? 

Flashbacks of that one fateful night when the company had barged in - uninvited might he add - and raided his kitchen and pantry flooded his mind.

Could they...?

No, he shook his head. It was too quiet for the company to be here. Plus Thorin would have mentioned it. There were no secrets between them. Not anymore.  

He crossed the hallway and entered his kitchen. Or rather, what was left of it.

If he thought his pantry was raided, it was nothing in comparison to his kitchen. There were dirty pots and pans all over the place, as if the dishes hadn’t been done in weeks. Most of the cabinets were opened, the contents of the shelves in disarray or scattered over the counter. A lot of food made it to the floor as well, and it seemed like someone had tried to clean it up by shoving it to one side of the kitchen.  

It looked like Thorin had tried to make something for dinner. Or a snack maybe? At least, he hoped it was Thorin who wrecked the kitchen. Because there wasn’t a single hair on his feet that would even consider cleaning this up himself! 

“Thorin, I really do love you but you got to learn to clean up after yourself,” Bilbo muttered in frustration when he picked up a dirty kitchen rag from the floor. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” a low voice sounded behind him.  

Bilbo swirled around and he forgot to breathe for a second.

There, in the doorway of the dining room, stood Thorin in just his dark blue tunic and black breeches, barefoot and an apron tied around his hips. A towel carelessly thrown over his shoulder and a casserole in his hands made it look like he belonged in a kitchen. But Bilbo knew better. 

The dwarf himself looked like a complete snack. If it wasn’t for the state of the kitchen and the foul smell still filling his nostrils, he would’ve jumped him without a second thought.

No, scratch the snack! His husband was a full five course meal. Bilbo took a deep breath. And by Durin’s beard, was he hungry... 

Thorin lifted the pot a little. Bilbo stepped out of the way so he could pass.

“It just needs a little more time on the fire.”

It didn’t. It really, really didn’t. 

That became abundantly clear when Thorin lifted the lid so he could stir in what looked like stew, and Bilbo had to grab the counter to steady himself.

Oh, well, at least now I know where that smell comes from, he thought. Breathe through your mouth, that’s the key! 

“You know, if you didn’t like my cooking, you could’ve just told me,” Bilbo joked while he took the pot off the fire again in an effort to save what could be saved, but not before he put the lid back on. “I think this is done, love.”

“Are you sure?” Thorin chuckled. The sound reverberated in his chest and it made Bilbo’s stomach flip. It was one of his favourite sounds and it still did something to him every time he heard it. 

“I wanted to repay you for taking such good care of me,” he said. “So I made us dinner.”

“You did?” Bilbo asked, endeared by the gesture but honestly, also a little afraid for his life by now. “Marvellous!”

“Go and take a seat at the table, I’ll be right there,” Thorin hummed and he gestured towards the dining room.  

Thorin came out of the kitchen and placed the pot in the middle of the table and wiped his hands on the apron. His eyes fell on Bilbo who still stood a bit to the side.  

When he entered the dining room Bilbo froze, stunned by what he saw. 

Thorin had set the table beautifully and had paid extra attention to details, the way Bilbo liked. Freshly picked flowers from their garden stood proudly in a white porcelain vase, napkins neatly folded on the right side of the plate and he had used Bilbo’s mother’s pottery. He really went out of his way for this. 

“Is it not to your liking?” Thorin asked, a slight tremble in his voice. “If it’s about the mess in the kitchen, I promise I’ll clean it up later.”

He was nervous, Bilbo realised when he looked at Thorin. The King under the Mountain who could face multiple armies with only twelve companions without a second thought or hint of fear was almost shaking with nerves because he had made dinner for his lover. It was adorable.  

“It’s lovely, Thorin. Really, it is,” he assured him, while Thorin pulled a chair from under the table so Bilbo could sit down. “I didn’t expect it, that’s all.” 

Thorin quickly made his way to the other side of the table and filled the mugs with ale and the glasses with wine. Bilbo however, eyed the food on the table cautiously. 

To be fair, from a distance it looked decent. There were carrots, mashed potatoes, other vegetables that he couldn’t quite name at first sight but seemed okay, bread,… And the pot of stew. On the corner of the table stood a bowl of what he suspected was some kind of gravy, but the chunks in it made him doubtful. 

He took some of everything on his plate and tried to keep it together when the aroma of the stew filled his nostrils once more.

Thorin looked at him expectantly. 

The things one does for the one they love, Bilbo thought while he took a deep breath and tried the stew. Oh dear, it tasted exactly like it smelled!

He tried to swallow it as fast as he could without a lot of chewing. His hand flew to his glass of wine and with a large gulp of the red substance his food finally went down.  

“Is there something wrong?”

“No! No, it’s… well, it’s a little hot,” he explained. That wasn’t exactly a lie. 

He tried to find the correct words to let him know cooking maybe wasn’t his strong point, but decided to change the subject instead. “Have you heard from Fíli yet?”

Thorin shook his head.  “I did not. It hasn’t been that long since I sent my last letter. Give him some time.”

He took a sip from his glass of wine. “But tell me about your afternoon, did you enjoy your walk?” 

Bilbo was relieved he could talk for a while - and avoid taking another bite - and told Thorin about his walk and how he was planning on asking old master Worrywort what he did to his wood poppies to get them so big and bright.

While he was listening intently, Thorin took a first bite of his homemade stew.

The minute he closed his mouth, his eyes widened and he almost choked on the meat. He let his fork drop on the plate with a loud clatter, a fist against his lips while he tried really hard to swallow the food.

Bilbo didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. He decided on a neutral expression, like it was the most normal thing in the world for a person to choke on a spoonful of stew.  

Thorin brought the napkin to his mouth and wiped the tears out of his eyes, still panting from the effort.

“Mahal, why didn’t you say anything?” he groaned.

Bilbo eyed him carefully, not wanting to hurt Thorin’s feelings. He worked so hard to prepare all this, well, you couldn’t exactly call it food…

“About what?” he tried, gathering his courage and taking another spoonful. 

“The food! I saw you eat it!” Thorin murmured, his face distorting in absolute horror as he watched his husband trying his best to process another bite.

“Please don’t. I can’t believe you want to take another bite!” 

“You made this for me, of course I’m going to eat it,” Bilbo said, smiling at him. Please don’t make me eat it again, Bilbo pleaded internally. 

“To be honest, I don’t even think Bombur would touch this,” Bilbo added.

“That bad, huh?” he laughed. “Who am I kidding, of course it is, I tasted it. I still taste it!”

He took his mug of ale and chugged it down in one go. When he placed it on the table again with a thud, his expression had changed into defeat.

“I know you love your meals and this isn’t…” he rose from his chair. “This is not a meal worthy of any hobbit, let alone Bilbo Baggins.”

With the majesty only a true dwarven king can muster, Thorin strode from the dining room towards the kitchen. Bilbo shuffled in his seat, pondering what had happened before hurrying behind his One.

The sight that greeted him made his heart clench. Thorin had started cleaning up the mess, his back to the door, head low and shoulders slumped. Bilbo could see he was distraught and clearly wounded in his pride. 

In a few strides Bilbo stood behind his husband and threw his arms around him, giving a little squeeze.

”Don’t you ever think what you do isn’t enough. The fact that you went through all this trouble for me, means more to me than you’ll ever know,” Bilbo mumbled into Thorin’s neck before he placed a featherlight kiss there, which elicited a groan out of the King’s chest.

Thorin turned around and wanted to return the favor, but Bilbo stopped him. 

“No, no, no, Thorin. First we need to clean up this mess. I’ll help you.”

After an hour of cleaning, they sat on a spotless kitchen floor, looking over their work proudly.

“We make a great team, you and me,” Thorin said.

Bilbo rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder and sighed contentedly.

“Can you promise me one thing though?”

“What’s that?” Thorin wondered.

“Please leave the cooking to me?”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje​ @kata1803​ @entishramblings​ @artsywaterlily​ @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose​ @marvelschriss​ @kumqu4t​ @myrin1234​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @the-fandoms-georgie​ @lathalea​ @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​

[simp-for-mha-men]

𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕓𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 (𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚 𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕘𝕠𝕦 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Request by @number1bakuhoe: can i request one for bakugou? n do yk that tiktok trend where in u kiss ur best friend but instead can it be thats how they reveal their relationship to the rest of the class?? ty💗💗

A/N: This is my dream. I had this thought and disregarded it, but this icon brought it back to my attention! I hope you all enjoy this Bakugou chaos with our favorite U.A. class. My requests are still open, and now my asks are actually working correctly (I didn’t know they weren’t). Enjoy this cuteness!

Genre: established relationship fluff and competition, Tik Tok trends, a little bit of swearing, one weird question from Kaminari, a couple references to different books 💥❤️

Word count: 3.1k

♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥

School was never boring at U.A. Whether you were listening to Present Mic drone on in English class or waiting for Mr. Aizawa to stop staring at you during training, it was always a good time. Your classmates also made sure of this, especially one in particular.

You had come to date the most ornery and obnoxious guy in 1-A, Katsuki Bakugou. His temper annoyed your classmates to no end. He never shared his trauma with anyone. It was as if “problem child” was his middle name. However, you had fallen for the spiky blonde-headed boy nonetheless.

How your relationship started was straight out of a movie, and the fact you both had been together now for 6 months made it all the more romantic. He called you one night by accident. He needed Kirishima to come to his dorm room, since he was late for a study group. When you picked up, he was annoyed at first but settled down after you told him you would help your friends. Being ranked number 5 in the class meant something, so he begrudgingly agreed.

“I’ll come,” you said, expecting rejection.

“Ugh,” he groaned.

Of course. Why would Bakugou want you to come help? He was so egocentric that he didn’t want you trying to show him up. They were your friends too, though! If they failed this test, it would make you upset. Sadly, that’s the downfall of being an empathetic person.

“Fine, just hurry your ass over here,” Bakugou ordered, hanging up immediately after.

You were stunned. If he didn’t tell you to hurry over, you might’ve freshened up just a bit. He wasn’t waiting for you, though, and if you were late, he would come to probably demote you from the rank of “extra,” if that was even possible.

The study sessions became a routine thing. Soon enough, each person kept leaving the group until it was only you and Bakugou left. It made you uncomfortable. It made him colder. Both of you were so awkward about it, which definitely didn’t help your situation. One night, you decided you were done playing this strange little game and did something about. The outcome was quite different than you had intended it.

“You know what,” you began, pushing away your binder, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Huh?” Bakugou questioned, glaring at you.

“You and I both know that this hasn’t been productive. For crying out loud, it’s just filled with tension!”

He huffed in annoyance, clearly done with your shenanigans. This man was going to be the death of you. Why was he so annoyed with you trying to leave? He usually liked to do things alone. If anything, this study group, if you could still call it that, was only a burden to him.

“It’s not you, Bakugou,” you said. “If anything, I feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome. I only feel uncomfortable, and I can tell that you don’t like the vibe we’ve created.”

The man in front of you fell silent. His gaze still pierced through your soul and spoke louder than words. You could tell he didn’t want you to go, but he didn’t know how to articulate it. Despite this, you knew you couldn’t stay. Being in the same room as him wasn’t healthy. Your heart rate always picked up speed. Plus, being so hot caused you to wear a t-shirt with the AC as cold as possible. Maybe you were coming down with something?

You began gathering your supplies as quickly as possible. You were studying a classic literary work: Romeo and Juliet. Was it cheesy? Absolutely. Did you love it? Without a doubt. However, Bakugou was beginning to be as intense as Montague or Capulet. 

“Thank you for these past few weeks,” you blurted. “It’s been really fun, but I don’t want to stay anym--”

Suddenly, your forearm was yanked by your study partner. You landed atop his lap, causing your heart to almost burst out of your chest. Your face felt very hot, and your breath was trapped in your lungs. Bakugou’s hands fell on your waist and slowly rubbed circles into them. He let his gaze change between your lips and eyes.

You didn’t know how to react. Was he just teasing you? Then, he began to lean in slowly. Realizing what he was doing, you moved in and let his lips touch yours. It was your first kiss, but you didn’t feel bad about it. Bakugou was soft and took his time, which is not what you were expecting with his personality. In that moment, you realized why you always felt hot around him. Your pulse quickened because you liked him. You just never wanted to admit it to yourself.

After a few seconds, Bakugou pulled away. Staring into your (e/c) eyes, he took a deep breaths and kissed you again. This time, his heartbeat spoke to you. It matched in rhythm with yours and told you its deepest desires. Bakugou wanted you to be his. He initiated this kiss as a last resort to get you to stay. He needed you to stay with him, not to study but just to hold and kiss.

After that fateful evening, Bakugou had become your boyfriend unofficially. Both of you knew your relationship should be kept a secret. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Bakugou was supposed to be the number 1 hero, and you were just an “extra.” Plus, the Bakusquad and certain 1-A students would be a pain to deal with if they found out he was soft for someone.

Despite keeping your relationship hidden, you both made sure to make it a competition. Bakugou would always ruffle your hair when others weren’t looking, which would tempt you to plant a kiss on his cheek before you both went your separate ways during lunch. The nights in the dorms were domestically sweet rather than competitive like during school hours. Your loving boyfriend would always make two plates of food and slyly pass one to you. You would always make two cups of tea, making sure to hide one behind your back, and bring them to his room. When you did do this, you slipped in while he was taking his usual shower. He always came out, gave you his sweatshirt, and watched you with love-filled eyes. The tea-filled evenings always ended in cuddles and playing with each others’ hair. You stayed until your boyfriend fell asleep at his early time, and then you would sneak off to your dorm room to get some sleep yourself.

This was your normal with Bakugou. During last Christmas, you both were able to go on an actual date for the first time. However, you saw Kirishima and Kaminari hanging out, and you and Bakugou had to abandon your outing. Sadly, your relationship has never been normal because of how secret it was. You both had to get creative with your relationship, but it was worth it. He was your explosive baby, and you were his sweet angel.

Recently, you’ve been getting quite a few relationship Tik Toks in your feed. Whether it was “the faster you run to me, the more kisses you get” trend or the “oh, you want me to make you some soup” sound, you wanted to recreate them. The Pomeranian you were dating didn’t want this. He thought Tik Tok was a complete waste of time, and you always argued with him about how it was a de-stresser for you. However, he still watched every video you showed him and loved the smile you got when watching his reaction.

One of your favorite Tik Tok trends going around was with the popular song “Electric Love” by BØRNS. Best friends admitting their feelings through a kiss was so romantic, and it reminded you of how your adorable relationship began. After seeing about 1 million of them, when in reality it was only 3, you decided you had to do it with Bakugou. 

Finals were just around the corner, and everyone was stressing out. There was a rumor going around that you would all be facing the teachers again, except this time there would be bigger groups to face 3 teachers at the same time. You coculdn’t believe it and burshed it off. However, the thought still lingered in your mind that the rumor could be true. Kaminari and Kirishima reminded you of this painfully often.

One morning at the dorms before class, Momo and Iida said they were holding a study group for the class that night to prepare for the written exams. They said they didn’t care how many people showed up. They just wanted to extend the offer since they were the top students in the class. Realizing it would be beneficial, you begged your boyfriend to attend it with you. As per usual, he wanted to make your life just a little bit more difficult.

“Please, Katsu,” you begged.

“No way, dumbass,” he said, flicking your forehead. “Why go when you’ve got me?”

“I just want to hear what other people have to say. Besides, Momo is really good at algebra! She could help both of us.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes before turning to walk towards his door. You had to convince him. No matter what it would take, you had to convince him that this was the best possible option to study for the written finals. 

“Wait,” you blurted, gaining his attention. “What can I do that would make you come with me?”

“Don’t even,” he huffed.

“Come on, Katsu. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything!”

Your boyfriend turned around and met your gaze. His eyes were soft, but his smirk was hard. Oh no...he had something up his sleeve. It could go one or two ways: easy or hard. You figured it was the latter.

“Kiss me,” he stated.

“That’s it?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.

“That’s it.”

Smiling, you skipped over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You leaned closer to his lips and met them sweetly. Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and melted into the kiss. It was filled with love and passion, causing a fire to erupt in your heart. You had never been happier in your life. He was all yours, and you couldn’t believe it. After pulling away, his smirk was even wider than it had been the first time. Something wasn’t right.

“I probably should’ve finished what I was gonna say,” he said. “You have to kiss me by surprise before class is over.”

Your eyes went wide. He was not asking you to do this. No way. You guys kept your relationship private for a good reason. He was out of his mind.

“Katsuki,” you sighed, “please tell me this is a joke.”

Laughing, he squeezed your cheeks before turning around and opening his door. “No way, dumbass. You said you’d do anything. Just try not to get caught.”

With that, he sauntered out of his room confidently. Never in your relationship had you been able to kiss him by surprise. He always knew what you were trying to do. He watched your fidgeting hands, crinkling nose, and squinting eyes all too much. It was like he could predict your every move. He watched you like a hero watches a villain.

You had to figure out a plan to catch him completely by surprise in only a few minutes. Then, you had only 7 hours to execute and achieve your goal. That sounds like a long time, but it was going to be a race against the clock. How were you going to pull this off? It’s not like some romance movie where the song for the love interests just starts out of nowhere.

Suddenly, you squeaked out loud. That’s it! You finally have the opportunity to do the “kissing your best friend” challenge. Of course, you and Bakugou were already dating, but he was still your best friend. You both told each other everything. Plus, he had never been around when you were watching those Tik Toks. You had your plan. Now, when could you execute it perfectly?

The morning started off like any other. Mr. Aizawa began going over the day’s schedule, causing the daily antics of your class to begin. Mina and Denki began dozing off, Aoyama was just staring off into space, Koda was focused on some birds outside, and Midoriya was already murmuring to himself. Despite all of this, your boyfriend was staring directly at you from across the classroom.

Once you noticed him, you stuck your tongue out at him. Clearly annoyed by your actions, he sighed and rolled his eyes at you. The dynamic was always like this between you two. However, your attack plan was finalized.

Using your skills, you deducted that the best time to initiate the plan was right before lunch. You would say you were showing him a Tik Tok, kiss his cheek like usual, and then strike. It was perfection. Nothing could go wrong.

The morning classes went by slower than ever. Present Mic kept correcting Jirou’s grammar the entire English class, Cementoss took too long to analyze Fahrenheit 451, and Ectoplasm spoke complete gibberish in math. You stayed focused throughout all of this, though, because you knew what was to come.

Finally, the bell rang for lunch. Waiting for the class to leave the room, you slowly packed up your bag. Once Tokoyami and Shoji had left the room, you walked over to your boyfriend, who purposely took just as long to pack.

“Bakugou,” you began, sweetly, “you have to see this Tik Tok I found.”

He groaned, prompting you to lean down and kiss his cheek. Being the tease he was, he quickly turned directly to face you and kissed your lips. You laced your arms around his neck, causing your plan to become even easier. Thankfully, Bakugou was too in the moment to realize the placement of your phone. You had positioned yourself so you were facing the window, allowing your phone to lean against the glass and stand in the window sill.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, (y/n),” Bakugou said, pulling away from you with a smirk.

With your arms still around his neck, you returned a sickeningly sweet smile paired with a glare. “Oh, just you wait.”

You hit the record button on your phone, causing the lyrics to begin. Apparently, this gained his attention, and he turned his head to look at your phone.

Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle / I can't let you go now that I got it

“Babe,” he groaned.

“Oh, come on,” you replied, pinching his cheek. “It’s just one Tik Tok.”

He groaned and looked at you through the screen. He was clearly waiting for you to start dancing or something because he never broke your gaze. Internally smirking to yourself, you realized you had caught him hook, line, and sinker.

And all I need is to be struck / By your electric love

Once the word “love” was sung, you turned his head towards you and kissed him the deepest you ever had. He paused for a brief second with wide eyes before chuckling and pulling you into his lap. Your lips met in a fiery passion of love, and you had never felt more alive. This was definitely the best kiss you had ever shared with him.

“Wait, you gotta be kidding me!” you heard someone say.

Both of you stopped, pulled away, and looked at the door. Standing there was Sero and Kaminari with the biggest grins on their faces. Before any words between the four of you could be exchanged, they both bolted off towards the cafeteria.

“Shit,” you sighed.

“You can say that again,” Bakugou agreed.

“If they know what’s good for them, they’ll keep their mouths shut.”

He chuckled at that and picked you up, placing a simple kiss on your forehead. After setting you down, you both went and grabbed your things before heading off to the cafeteria together. Of course, neither of you were aware of the hurricane that pounded the windows or shook the roof, but that would change very soon.

As soon as you walked in, you spotted the Dekusquad and Bakusquad all together. Once the door shut, Asui looked at you with the widest eyes possible. She turned back to the group and gained their attention, causing them all to unanimously charge the both of you.

“When did it start?” Mina asked, beaming.

“Were you always going to keep it a secret?” Uraraka questioned.

“Have you gone past kissing yet?” Kaminari smirked.

“SHUT UP BASTARDS!” Bakugou yelled, partially activating his quirk.

Stepping in front of him, you placed your hand on his cheek and whispered to him to calm down. After repeating that a couple of times, he did and began sulking to avoid confrontation. Turning around, you mustered up all of the courage you had.

“Ok,” you began, “Bakugou and I have been together for 6 months. We had planned to keep it a secret until graduation. Kaminari, I’m not answering your question.”

Kaminari groaned before turning around and walking off. After you answered the first initial questions, more came at you. You responded honestly and kept the conversation going. Bakugou was beside you the hold time, and, at some point, he took your hand in his. You leaned your head on his shoulder before sighing.

“Anything else?” you smiled.

“Yeah,” Asui replied. “When will you guys tell everyone else?”

“Oh, that’s not an issue,” Sero chimed in. “I already told the rest of the class.”

Everyone in the group fell silent. You prayed silently to whatever higher power was out there to protect Sero from major damage before saying, “Get him, baby.”

Bakugou took off after Sero, causing them both to sprint out of the cafeteria. You knew that they would probably get in trouble big time, but you were relieved. Finally, you and your boyfriend didn’t have to keep your relationship a secret. You were free to share as much PDA as you wanted, within school regulations, and were free to go on worry-free dates. It was a huge weight off your shoulders.

“D-do you think K-Kacchan will hurt him?” Midoriya asked, glancing at you.

Chuckling to yourself, you smiled and said, “I have no idea. I’m just proud to say that he’s mine. Sero will get what’s coming to him.”

It’s safe to assume that the both of you decided a night in studying together was better than having the whole class ogle you during the group study session.

[peridottea91]

Birthday Cake

Summary: Today is Dean’s birthday, so you decide to bake him a long-overdue surprise.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam mentioned

Words: 1670

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff

Beta’d by: n/a

Divider by: @firefly-in-darkness​ / @firefly-graphics​

A/N: This is my submission for @firefly-in-darkness’ 2k Follower Challenge; my prompt was baking a cake.

MAIN MASTERLIST - DEAN MASTERLIST

Your phone buzzed loudly from the nightstand, pulling you from your slumber. Quickly turning off your alarm, you glanced at the screen and let out a quiet groan.  You flipped your phone over and buried your face back into the pillow—you hated being awake so early, and the bed was so warm and comfortable.  

The soft snores coming from the warm body next to you, however, reminded you why you were awake to begin with, and so you pulled yourself away.  Slowly you rolled from the bed, careful not to jostle your sleeping companion.  Tiptoeing through the darkness, you grabbed your lounge shorts from the desk and quietly slipped from the room.  Padding down the halls of the bunker, you made your way to the kitchen to put your plan into motion.

Everything had been timed perfectly for today.  You had specifically set the alarm on your phone so that Sam would be out on his morning run and Dean would still be asleep for at least two more hours. The last thing you needed was Sam crowding the kitchen while you were trying to work, or even worse, Dean snooping about.  Baking a new recipe was stressful enough, even without your two companions peeking over your shoulder.

Pulling out the ingredients that you had hidden in the back of the fridge, you set about baking the cakes—sifting flour and cocoa powder, mixing the batter, and splitting it into three, round pans.  It would have been much easier to do this using box cake mix, but that just wasn’t your style.  Besides, Dean Winchester was more than worth the amount of effort you were putting in.

With the three cakes in the oven, you set about making the filling for between the layers of German chocolate cake—French silk pie filling.  By the time you had finished the filling and set it in the fridge to chill, the timer dinged for the cakes.  After checking for doneness, you clicked off the oven and popped the cakes out of their pans onto cooling racks.  Everything was right on schedule, leaving you plenty of time to put everything together and decorate the cakes once everything cooled.

There were a few moments where you had wondered if all this effort was even worth it. Dean Winchester was a man of simple pleasures—sex, cheap booze, diner food.  He had never been someone who wanted to be fussed over.  Then again, he had never been fussed over, to begin with. From a young age, he had been forced into the roles of protector and caregiver for Sam while being neglected himself.  Growing up, he never got to enjoy celebrating birthdays and holidays, let alone home-cooked food.  Hell, a store-bought pie would have even been good enough for him.  

But you weren’t satisfied with just “good enough.”  Dean Winchester deserved the world, and you were determined to prove it to him any and every way you could.  If that meant putting in the extra effort to bake him a (hopefully) delicious cake from scratch, then so be it.  On today of all days, you wanted to show Dean just how special he was to you.

You had known the Winchesters for years, hunting with them on-and-off until maybe two or three years ago, when they asked you to move in.  Things slowly just sort of fell into place, and, as of almost six months ago, you and Dean became an item.  You weren’t really sure how it happened, but it did, nonetheless.  You moved into his room about two months in, stubbornly not wanting to have to share a closet or a bed.  Once he had finally convinced you to move in, secretly moving your stuff in bit by bit, you were so glad you did.

Dean wasn’t the type of guy to share his feelings or be overly emotional in a relationship, let alone be in a relationship.  That’s part of why you had been so surprised when the two of you fell into step, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.  Dean hadn’t said those three little words yet, which was okay. He showed you how much you meant to him in other ways, making sure you never needed to question his feelings for you. Now, you were doing the same for him.

Roughly 20 minutes had passed before you were able to finally start assembling the cake. You had bought a cake stand just for the occasion and, after spreading a small dab of the French silk pie filling, began stacking.  Cake, pie filling, cake—everything stacked up rather nicely.  You did have to level out the round cakes, creating an even surface for each layer to sit on.  You made it a point not to skimp on the filling between each cake layer, knowing how much Dean had loved your aunt’s pie recipe.  What better way to include his favorite food in a cake?

Finally, it came time to frost and decorate the outside of the cake. Glancing at the clock, you saw that you had roughly 30 minutes before Dean would be waking up, so your nerves began to bubble up slightly.  Using more of the filling you made, you spread a crumb coat and topcoat around the sides and top of the cake.  Then, you took out the frozen candy pieces that you had crushed the night before—chunks of Snickers, Twix, and Milky Ways—and sprinkled them all over the top.

You had just set the candles into place when you heard the tell-tale sound of Dean’s door opening down the hall.  It was now or never!  You began bouncing lightly, a mixture of excitement and anxiety coursing through you as you waited.

Dean shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep.  He didn’t notice you at first as he made his way directly to the coffee pot, which you had been smart enough to turn on for him right before you started putting together the cake.  You tried not to laugh as he robotically moved about, leaning against the kitchen island while you watched.

“Good morning, hun,” You greeted cheerily, finally catching his attention.

Dean hummed in acknowledgment, “Mornin’, darlin’.”

Shuffling to you, Dean took a swig from his coffee cup and smacked his lips in satisfaction.  He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close for a good morning kiss. He had just broken away when his eyes popped comedically wide, and he leaned to the side slightly, looking around you at the large chocolate and candy topped cake.

“Happy birthday,” you said sweetly with a smile.

“Shit, Y/N, did you make this for me?”

“No, I made it for Sam,” you sassed, “of course I made this for you!  German chocolate cake with French Silk Pie frosting and topped with chocolate candy chunks.”

“Ooooohhhhh,” Dean awed at the cake and stepped around you.  His green eyes lit up with a rare excitement as he stooped down and ogled at the cake.  “Ya know, we don’t really celebrate birthdays, Y/N.”

“I know. But I wanted to do something special for you.  You always told me how you never really got to enjoy the little things that normal people do.  So, I figured, what would be better than your own birthday cake?”

Dean swiped his finger along the bottom edge of the cake, gathering a bit of makeshift frosting on his finger and popping it into his mouth.  He moaned happily at the taste and nodded his head in approval before standing straight and turning back to you.  Reaching out, he pulled you close and kissed you deeply, humming happily into your mouth and giving you an affectionate squeeze.

“Thank you, honey.  I really appreciate it,” he said between kisses.

“You don’t need to thank me, De.  I just wanted to do something special for you because you’re special to me,” you admitted softly against his lips, the two of you swaying slightly.

Dean gave your lips another peck before leaving a light trail of kisses along your cheek and burying his face in your hair.  He continued to sway you both back and forth while you wrapped your arms around him.  You lightly scratched your fingernails in the hair at the base of his neck, just like you knew Dean liked.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you retorted quickly, “you deserve me plenty.  And it’s the least I could do because I care about you.”

Dean hummed into your hair before pulling back and looking down at you, “You’re too good to me.  Please tell me I get to eat cake for breakfast.”

You couldn’t help but laugh in response, “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?  But you gotta blow out your candles first.”

Dean smirked and nodded, “Alright, alright.”

You turned away from your boyfriend, lit a match, and lit the candles on the cake. Dean paused for a moment, a warm smile gracing his lips as he looked at the cake you made.  Closing his eyes, he blew out the candles and opened them to you clapping happily.  With a wave of his hand, Dean bowed dramatically, causing you to laugh again.

Shooing the birthday boy out of the way, you reached for the knife on the counter and began cutting.  Dean remained pressed up behind you, one hand on your hip while he eagerly watched over your shoulder.  You plated his piece and passed it along, earning a grin and another kiss before he shuffled off to the table to eat.  You chuckled to yourself and shook your head at your boyfriend.  The man was in his 40s and yet still had all the excitability of a child.

You had just turned back to cut your own slice when you felt a set of lips pressed against your temple, “Thank you for this, Y/N...  I love you.”

You smiled and closed your eyes, reaching a hand up to cup his head affectionately, “I love you too.  Happy Birthday, Dean.”

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 19

A/N: Sorry this one is a few days late. I was having issues with it. I couldnt get it to flow and it had to be reworked a few times. No smut in this one. It also wasn't working for me. There will be smut in the next Present chapter. The next chapter will be posted on Friday as usual. As always, feedback is appreciated and much love. -Em

Monty and I were still dancing around each other a little, but things were getting easier. Our life had fallen back into a comfortable routine. The date night we indulged in last week seemed like it hit the reset button on our relationship again. Our alarm went off on Tuesday morning and we both groaned in protest. It was so warm in bed. “Remind me again why we can’t just cut school and lay here all day?”

“Because we need to go learn things. Helps with the whole graduation thing we are supposed to do this year.” I could feel Monty peppering my neck with soft kisses. “It’s not going to work, Casanova.”

“Shhh. Let me try.” He shushed me.

“No. We don’t have time.” I sighed. I really don’t want to get up. How was I a morning person before?

“I think we do.” Oh yeah.  I didn’t have someone waking me up with cuddles and kisses. Nd begging to stay in bed.

“We do not.” I sighed again. Monty sighed. He let go of me and I rolled out of bed. I could feel his eyes on my ass, and I shook my hips a little. He ignored me.

After a hot shower, separately lest we run late for another joyous day at Liberty High, we enjoyed coffee and breakfast together. I smiled to myself while I ate. I was just thankful that we were getting back to normal again. I hated fighting with him. We both knew that it would happen. Especially since we are both stubborn and have an inexplicable need to be right. We were prepared for the little tiffs that would come along. We were prepared for the big fights that were sure to come. Forever is a long time, after all. There were just some things you couldn’t prepare for. Our current struggle was one of those things. But we were getting through it.

Monty startled me when he placed a full cup of coffee beside me. “Thank you.”

“I promised I would never leave your morning coffee empty, remember?”

“I remember.” I smiled fondly and took a sip. He placed his bowl-we had moved up from sticking his hand directly in the box, thank God-in the dishwasher. Scott texted me while I was packing up my backpack.

Can we talk before lunch?

Yeah, sure. About what?

Monty.

Is everything okay? I looked up from my phone at my husband. He was shoving his physics textbook into his bag. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong.

Nothing’s wrong exactly.

What do you mean? He didn’t reply. There was still no answer when Monty and I got to school. Scott wouldn’t look at me when we stopped to chat with our friends. What the hell?

Scott met me outside of my class. “Hey.”

“Hey.” We walked to an empty alcove outside, chatting about nothing in particular. He sat down on the bench and motioned for me to join him.

“I want to keep this short because I’m hungry. We need to talk about Monty.”

“What about him?”

“Now, I know I said I would stay out of your marriage unless I was invited.”

“Yes. You did?”

“And I’m glad everything is working out between you two now.”

“Yeah.” I was beginning to get nervous.

“I also swore to myself I would take zero interest in your private life.”

“That sounds like bullshit. But okay.” He didn’t say anything. He looked at me seriously. Oh. “You mean, our private life.”

“Yeah.”

“So, why do we need to talk Scott?”

“You need to have sex with your husband.” He stated.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll get right on that. Shall we text you updates before, during, and after?”

“Addison. I’m serious.”

“If you are going to lecture me on ‘needs’ Scott….”

“No, nothing like that. He’s just really fucking annoying.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, we don’t talk details. All I need to know about that is that its consensual. But he’s getting kind of cranky.”

“Not with me.” I shrugged.

“Yeah. Because he loves you and he just got out of your bad books.”

“You think that would stop him from being cranky with me? Are we talking about the same Montgomery de la Cruz here? Have you met your best friend?”

“Yes. I think, given the situation, that it would. He likes you. He doesn’t exactly like many other people. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

“Maybe once or twice.” I shrugged.

“Will you just think about it?”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“Great. And no. I don’t need updates. Or want them.” We stood up and started walking to the cafeteria.

“Hey Scott?”

“Yeah Addy?”

“Thank you. For being so supportive during this whole mess. I don’t think many other people would be.”

“You’re my friends. It’s what I’m here for. And you feed me at least once a week. I wasn’t about to start missing out on that.” He grinned at me. I laughed and pushed him gently.

“Let me check with my wife.” Monty was saying as Scott and I sat down at lunch.

“Check with me about what?”

“I was just asking Monty if he was down to come to my place for a party later this week.” Bryce said.

Monty gave me a look. “And so, I said I would check with you.” Ah yes. The old checking with the wife line.

“When this week?”

“Friday. Are you his daytimer?”

“Friday?” I thought for a second. “You have a doctor’s appointment at four and physio at seven. It seems I am.”

“Sorry man.” Monty shrugged.

“It’s one appointment. I’m sure you’d be fine to miss them. Or you could swing by after.” I rolled my eyes.

“Do you want your friend’s knee to be permanently fucked? No? Then he can’t go.” Bryce didn’t answer. Thinking the matter had been decided and was no longer up for discussion, I settled in to eat my lunch.

“You could just come anyway. How would she know?” I heard him whisper to Monty.

“Considering we live together I think I would notice if he wasn’t home.” I whisper said back. “We share a bed.” I left the implication of what happened the last time he wasn’t home in our bed, but rather out with Bryce, be.

“Fine.” Bryce pouted.

I caught up with Monty after lunch and he walked me to class. His arm was thrown over my shoulder, possessively, more often than not now that we were getting back on the road to happy, healthy marriage land. “Check with your wife, huh?”

“Yeah. Don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“You know I’m okay with you going, right?”

“I know. But I would rather spend my Friday night with you. I don’t actually have a doctor’s appointment I forgot about, do I?”

“No. You’re free for the night.”

“Good.”

“How has your knee been doing, by the way?”

“It’s been okay. Not like I’m doing anything to stress the ligament too much.” I smirked softly. “I mean, I can’t play ball. I’m not even supposed to be working out that much.” Right. That’s what you meant.

“That’s true. What are we doing instead of Bryce’s?”

“I was thinking pizza? Maybe make it ourselves?”

“Hey guys. Wait up!” Scott called after us. We stopped and turned around. Scoot was tailed by Anders.

“Hey.”

“Doctor’s appointments?” Scott smirked.  

“Sure.” Monty nodded.

“You really don’t want to go on Friday, do you?”

“No. I have much better plans.” He squeezed me softly.

“He really does.” I nodded.

“What are your plans?” Anders asked.

“No pants pizza night.”

“What?”

“No pants pizza.” I repeated.

“What’s that?”

“We make or order pizza. And then we sit on the couch. And eat it. Without pants on.” I explained slowly.

“No pants pizza.” Monty shrugged. Scott quickly quirked his brow at me. I made no indication of noticing. The warning bell rang so we went our separate ways.

In class, I took my seat next to Alex and Zach. Alex had come around to Monty and I after we all had dinner. Zach was still pretty stand-offish. The Zach issue had been pushed to the side. We had bigger things to worry about recently. And trying to figure out what was going on in Zach Dempsey’s head was always a tossup. The boy was far from an open book. “Hey Addy.” Alex greeted.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to look. It was a reminder about Monty’s physio appointment tomorrow night. He texted me right away. I didn’t forget about this one.

“How are things?” I asked.

“They go.” Zach replied. Why the hell is he so cranky. It’s been two months. Over two. Everyone else has moved on. Why can’t you?

“They’re good. I started working out with Caleb and Tony.”

“That’s great Alex.”

“Yeah. Girls aren’t really that into scrawny guys.”

“That’s not true.”

“Says the girl married to an Adonis.”

“Semantics.” I shrugged.

“You’re a catch Alex.” Zach added.

“Thanks Zach.” His smile seemed a little brighter at the compliment. Huh. That could be interesting. We chatted a little more before class started. We were watching a video in class and our teacher hadn’t come back with the TV yet.

“Hey, did you guys want to get a burger or something from Rosie’s tomorrow night? Monty has physio so it would just be us.”

“I’m always down for some junk food.” Alex laughed.

“Zach?”

“Sure. I mean,” he paused, “I could eat.”

“Great. Say five thirty?”

“Works for me. I can give you a ride Alex.” Zach offered.

After school, I waited for Monty. He had a test in physics and Mr. Brown was still a hardass about people leaving after they were done. He made everyone wait until every test was handed in. That being said, he always gave everyone five extra minutes at the end of class to finish. For daytime classes, he gave the class notes to excuse lates in their next class.

“Hey Casanova.” I called as Monty left.

“Hey Bookworm.” He leaned in to kiss me when he reached me.

“How was your test?”

“It was okay. My brain hurts.” We walked hand in hand to the Jeep. He hadn’t let me drive since he got cleared by Dr. Marcus. I miss driving it.

“Awe. I’m sorry. Can I drive?”

“No. My car. I drive.” Oh. Okay maybe Scott is right. Maybe he is a little cranky. That’s okay.

“Okay.” I smiled. I climbed in the passenger seat and buckled up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound that harsh.”

“No, I know. It’s okay. I just thought I’d offer since you look drained from that test.”

“I appreciate the offer, really. I’m good though.”

“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed me again before we drove home.

Inside, I grabbed a snack and refilled my water bottle. I grabbed a couple bags of fruit snacks for Monty too. We worked on homework quietly for a couple of hours. Justin called as I was finishing up. “Homework help?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Shoot.”

“The discussion questions from my English class make no sense.”

“What are the questions?”

“What’s going on?” Monty asked me quietly. I pulled the phone away from my ear and covered the mic.

“English discussion questions.”

“I have them here.” He handed me the sheet. I looked over it carefully. I had uncovered the mic while reading.

“These are kind of dumb. Is this what you do in regular English?”

“Yeah.” My boys responded together.

“Huh. At least you get to read fun books. City of Bones is good. Okay then. Uh let me see.”

“The movie was still bad.”

“Shh. I’m helping Justin.” I grinned.

“Sorry.”

“Okay. Valentine’s rebellion.” I thought for a moment and then discussed it with Justin. “If you just write down what I say, your teacher will know you had someone else do it. So, work through it on your own now.”

“Thanks Addy. You’re the best.”

“I know. Night Justin.” After we hung up, I remembered the plans I made with Alex and Zach. “I’m going to Rosie’s with Alex and Zach tomorrow while you’re at physio.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.” I grinned at him.

With our homework finished, we spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch. There was something Monty wanted to watch on tv. I had lost interest in it pretty quickly, so I got up and grabbed a book. Laying back down on the couch, I rested my head in his lap. He absentmindedly stroked my hair. Scott’s words played over in my mind. I thought about it for a little while but decided a Tuesday evening probably wasn’t the best time to potentially spend all night having sex. We have school in the morning after all. When we were getting ready for bed though, instead of putting a pair of shorts and one of my old gym shirts on, I walked over to Monty’s dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. I swam in it. I changed my underwear. He whistled to himself when he left the bathroom. I smiled to myself. The seed is planted. Monty pulled me a little closer than usual when we got in bed.

I met Zach and Alex at Rosie’s for dinner. I had run home to change first because it was warmer than I expected it to be today. I didn’t feel right going to dinner in my gym shirt, even if it was at the local diner. Since it was quiet, being the middle of the week, our waitress was at our table almost before we sat down. Melinda had been our waitress here since Zach and I were kids. She was a kind old lady. She knew everyone’s orders by heart. As such, we didn’t have to give our drink order. She did let us look at the menu “just for fun”.

“How’re things with you guys?” I asked when our drinks arrived. I took a few sips of my Cherry Coke float and stirred it to mix it up.

“Things are good. The team is looking pretty good this year. School prospects are looking good.” Zach said.

“Monty was saying that they’re shaping up pretty well. And you Alex?”

“Good. Jess and I are friends again. Tony says I’m getting stronger.”

“That’s great Alex.” I smiled.

“How are things with you Addy?”

“They’re good. I’m done with college applications for now.”

“Early admission?” Zach asked.

“Yeah. If I don’t get in anywhere, then I’ll apply for regular admission somewhere.”

Melinda was eyeing us from the counter, so we looked at the menu quickly. We decided to split a couple baskets of fries, some chicken strips, and each get a burger. I got a chicken sandwich. The boys both got cheeseburgers. After our drinks were refilled, we got back to talking. “How’s Monty doing?” Alex asked. Zach’s face pinched slightly. Seriously what the hell is his deal?

“He’s doing okay. Stubborn. But that isn’t a surprise to anyone.”

“Is he ever not stubborn?” Well, sometimes. During sex.

“I don’t think you want to know. And he would have to kill the three of us if I told you.”

“Oh? Are you trying to tell us that he’s fun?” Zach asked.

“He likes to make me smile. So sometimes he does stuff to make that happen. And that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“And his knee?”

“You know. It’s a process. Some days are better than others. I think it bugs him more than he lets on, but I don’t want to push. Physio is helping and Dr. Marcus says he should be able to do some lower body workouts if things keep progressing well.”

“That’s good. Tell him to stop by practice sometime?”

“I’ll try. I think there’s only so many practices he can go to and just watch.”

“I get that. The invitation is open though.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Our food arrived. The three of us took a break from catching up, to savour the food. “How’s married life?” Alex asked.

“Oh, you know.” The boys looked at me, expectantly. “It’s mostly a lot of asking each other what we want for dinner. Every night. For the rest of our lives.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Zach smiled.

“That isn’t. It’s agreeing on something that’s the hard part. I married a guy who would be content eating chicken nuggets and fruit snacks for dinner every night. Trying to get him to eat a vegetable is an almost insurmountable battle.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Can you blame him?” Alex asked.

“It feels like it is sometimes. And not really. But would eating some carrots really hurt him?”

“Yes.” My friends said in unison.

“Boys.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “It’ll only get worse when we have kids and they’re at eating regular food age. Because they’ll need to be included in the decision.”

“And how can you make them eat vegetables when their dad doesn’t?” Alex laughed.

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, pointing a chicken strip at him. The three of us laughed.

“How are things with you guys… otherwise?” Zach asked, hesitantly.

“They’re,” I paused, “getting better. We’ve talked a lot in the last few weeks. I think we are back on the same page. It’s a work in progress.”

“That’s good. Things seemed pretty….” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“I know. And they were. We are working on it though.”

“It was pretty funny watching him shut Bryce down at lunch.”

“What happened?” Alex asked.

“He played the ‘let me ask my wife’ card.”

“Oof. And I’m guessing that went over Bryce’s head?”

“What do you think?”

“Of course, it did.” He grinned and shook his head.

We talked for another hour or so. Melinda brought us another basket of fries on the house. Around seven, Monty texted me. I grabbed a couple of pints of Haagen Dazs at the store.

Okay. I’ll see you at home. I love you.

I love you too. The three of us called it a night around eight. We bid each other good night and promised to text each other when we got home.

I’m on my way home. Do we need anything else before I get home?

No, I grabbed a couple of things. I’ll get your ice cream out. Drive safe Bookworm.

Okay. Thank you. I will. See you soon Casanova.

[mendesficsxbombay]

don't you wanna see these clothes on me? | s.m

hello! 2 fics in one month? am i even myself anymore? 

Requested ‘non sexual acts of intimacy’ from this prompt list:

7) one adjusting the other’s jewellery/neck tie, etc

 anon requested this be related to or based on the GRAMMYs

Shawn Mendes was a relatively easy client to work with, anyone would tell you that. There were a few demands to be met, yes, but demands came with every famous person. His demands were always attainable, nothing too out of reach. There’s certain types of food, certain brands of packaged water (do not bring a Dasani anywhere near him or he will riot, she’d learned that the hard way), skin care products should not run out, and so on. She wasn’t his assistant or tour manager to know the details of his rider, but this was her first job on the road, you can’t blame her for being observant. 

She was working very closely with him though, if you count picking out his clothes for the day and helping her actual boss, Tiffany, with his show outfits as working closely. The gig with Tiffany was a chance she had taken a little blindly. She was 21, fresh out of fashion school, and her mind was in bits about potential careers. She’d worked at stores, workshops, assisted designers and interned at a fashion week and penciled down her life into two options - styling and client servicing. Would she rather dress people or would she be the one making business happen for a fashion house to dress people? She had no goddamn idea. 

Right after graduating though, she heard of an opening with a ‘well experienced stylist, in the field of dressing musicians, a travel job with months on the road and suitable perks’, and she sent an application in to the agency. 

She’d read of Tiffany Briseno in her copies of Vogue multiple times. A celebrity stylist with years of experience to her name, most famous for styling a world famous Canadian pop star. He shall not be named because she herself just happened to like his music, a little bit here and there. Not like she lined up to buy a copy of his debut album at Target or anything. Of course not. 

When she was called in for a video interview, Tiffany clearly explained the amount of work that went into styling for a world tour and she clearly needed an assistant who was serious with their job, and not in it for the glamour. She, in turn, explained to Tiffany about how she worked all through university, and how serious she was with her career. Her knees shook under the table she placed her laptop on, praying that Tiffany couldn’t see her body locking up with anxiety through Skype. Tiffany complimented her dedication, but also reminded her that absolutely nothing would compare to having to work on the road. She felt her shoulders sink in subconsciously, smiling and nodding as she had throughout her life and ended the conversation. 

She told her parents about how she applied for this job that was just a lot of work and how she was so sure they were looking for someone with much more experience, not just a clueless grad school kid. The agency did not feel the same apparently, because she found an offer letter in her emails a few days later. She was required to meet the rest of the team and Tiffany in a few weeks’ time, and until then it was her job to look for sourcing options for Sha- for her client.

That was a whole year ago now, and as so many of the crew members said, the road had started to feel like home. 

She bit the inside of her cheek, deep in thought while trying to fix a particularly stubborn crease with her steam iron on the deep red suit jacket he was meant to wear in just a few hours. She always had the option of having someone else do the ironing, but she found it calming, found it easier to collect her thoughts with a steam rod and press in her hands than she did otherwise, so they let her be. 

She took the jacket down from the hangar she was using, neatly placing it on another adjacent hangar, and moved to bring in the Louis Vuitton shirt he would be wearing. Going down the front of the high quality linen she thought of how he recently liked unbuttoning way more buttons than he used to. If this weren’t a red carpet and another regular show he’d be wearing a much tighter shirt to hug around his arms, she remembers taking measurements for his other outfits to the exact inch and he said he liked it that way. A tight shirt or even a wife beater that completely let go of any barrier between showing off his biceps. 

She remembered teasing him at times, and he used to blush furiously, until he started asking her if she was looking. Then it used to be her turn to blush. She thought back to the first leg of tour. She remembers them constantly sneaking around each other - but also finding excuses to share their space. She remembers feeling sparks, and she knew he felt them, too. 

What other explanation could they possibly have for the middle school crush they had on each other? She would love to fend these concerns off by saying he was solely worked up because she was the only girl around his age on the crew. But that would be a lie, she knew the team of runners had a few girls their age - she was friends with them now. And the production teams had people close to them, too, even though they had alternating staff.

She could say that she was the only one working close enough with him, but that wasn’t true either. Telling herself it was just an infatuation would be the biggest lie, it had been months and he still behaved the same way around her. She was tired of having to tiptoe around him for as long as she was doing her job. 

Shawn liked her so, so bad. And there was nothing she could do about it. 

She had started noticing the little signs at first. Anytime he’d bring in water for himself, he had an extra bottle for her. He always saved her a spot at the dinner table. Got disappointed when she didn’t come in for at least half of his soundcheck. He liked having her near the stage when shows actually took place. And then there were bigger signs. He bought her a copy of Leave Your Mark, a book she had been trying to find for months - and when she asked him how he only ducked his head and said he found it at one of the airport bookstores. A quick ask around helped her know that he had contacted the publishers themselves and acquired a copy. 

She had started noticing how the people around them moved away if they were talking. She saw the smiles passed at her every time she stepped out of his dressing room. She knew how Tiffany jumped at every chance of leaving her alone to sort his look out before every show. There were looks and whispers and she saw them all, she felt them all. 

He made her nervous. Not because he was a star. God, no, that phase came and went by in a breath. He made her wonder. He made her think of a future with him, doing what she did and being with him on the run forever. He liked her, and she liked him more than she knew what to do with. 

Unfortunately for her, being together all day did not help. At all. She felt hyper aware of him. Every time he walked into a room, she felt the atmosphere sizzle. She felt the change and there was no ignoring it. Just like now. 

“I can feel you staring at me, you know?” 

She heard him laugh once, walking closer to where she was standing, multiple cases of clothes open around her. “Don’t know why you choose to slave over an iron every day - we have people to do that, you know?”

She sighed, hanging the steam rod onto its pole and turned around to look at him, chest constricting at the sight of him in a plain white shirt, tight as she had mentioned before, wearing a pair of glasses she knew he stole from someone on the team. 

“It feels nice to iron, it helps me-”

“De-stress. I know. But maybe if you just hung out with all of us once in a while you wouldn’t be so stressed…”

She crossed her arms before herself, cocking her head sideways. Get to the point, her expression said. 

“Okay, look, after the awards tonight, everyone wants to go to some club where they’ve booked out a private room for the team. I wanted to know if you’re gonna be coming.” He tucked his hands into his jeans. He was one second away from swaying on his feet because otherwise he looked like a little boy asking for candy he wasn’t supposed to have. 

“Ah - I’m not sure, Shawn,” her face was slowly pulling into a grimace, “All your outfits need to be back out first thing tomorrow morning and we need to send them a review as well… plus I need to get the exact details of your outfit so Tiffany can write it in her piece for GQ, and tha-“

“I knew you would say no,” he smiles immediately, and she’s scared. What did he do now? “Which is why… I have booked a table for us. For the - just the two of us, like a date.” He felt shy, felt like he was in high school asking a girl out for the first time. No smiles on his face anymore, just pure hesitation. “There’s this new place, um, it’s called Antico. You said your favourite cuisine was Italian - Antico is Italian, OH and it also has some great vegetarian food so there’ll be so many options for you to choose from…” he’s doing the thing again. He’s blushing and he can’t stop it. He needs to go to the washroom and splash water on his face. He needs to call his friends and tell them he finally asked his pretty stylist out, for real.  He needs her to say yes. 

She matched his expression. Wide eyes filled with wonder and face flushing hot. Was she even ready to go on a date with him? 

“Sh-Shawn,” she breathes out, barely a whisper. Her eyes had grown wide, and he didn’t know if she was hesitant like him or just horrified. She wasn’t prepared for this, and one part of her wants to hug him, say yes, and then run off into the sunset with him. The other part of her though, the rational part, knows this isn’t possible. “I thin-”

“Oh, there you are!” Tiffany exclaims walking into the room, not really noticing how close together the pair were standing, and immediately starts taking clothes off the rack for Shawn to change into. He immediately steps away from her, knowing how she gets. She wasn’t one for showing too many emotions when she was surrounded by people. She did open up to him sometimes, more than she did with anyone else on the crew. He had a sneaking suspicion that unlike his past advances which were subtle and not very direct, it was this one that fully got her attention to how much he liked her, and it had her flustered. Well that makes two of them. “Is it all done, babe?”

“Yes Tiff just, let me finish the shirt and I’ll bring it to you.”

“Shawn, you wanna move to hair and makeup till we wait for your outfit?” Tiffany walks out the door swiftly, not waiting for him to answer, just calling out his name again to make sure he was following. 

“Mhmm,” he says, walking backwards to the door, eyes still stuck on the girl he has pined after for months now. He refused to go down without a fight. “I’ll wait.”

________________________________________

She sees him again when he is pulling his shirt on with Tiffany straightening the material out from the back. He looks winsome in just the shirt and the red  suit pants, and her mouth nearly waters thinking of the contrast the red of the  blazer would have to his skin. Men who were dressed well always made her thoughts run wild, mostly because she learned to focus on the fit and the cut of the fabric, the attention to detail, the simplicity of the design or the lack, thereof. She paid way more attention to the outfits than the men wearing them. Shawn, however, was a different story. She had come to the gasping realisation that she liked him more than his outfits. And she was screwed, because no one knew how soon all of this would be ending for her. 

He senses her staring holes into his back. When he walked away, he only had her expression as a response to his question, and while he wasn’t worried if she rejected him, even if it hurt real, real bad, and he constantly worried about never finding someone like her, it was okay. He was worried about this running deeper than him, she shouldn’t have to look mortified just at the mention of a date. 

He looks down at his feet, the tailored hem of the pants at perfect length, discreetly raising his head to still find her looking at him. To his pleasure, the corners of her lips were upraised, eyes still on him but not really looking at him. He flashed her a smile, and she quickly realised what she was doing, scrambling to put down his pair of shoes for the evening along with the jewellery box she picked up on the way. 

She starts talking to Tiffany about his accessories, and, something. He can’t really be bothered to be focusing on yet another conversation about what he’s going to wear. He wants to talk to her. He wants to know things she hasn’t told him yet. It’s been a year of this slow burning attraction between them, but is it only attraction if he wants what’s in her mind and not just what he can already see? 

He already knows what stories he wants to talk about over dinner. He wants to tell her about his cheek scar, and then ask where she got the one on her right hand from. He wants to tell her about his high school prom and then ask about hers. He wants to know why she fell in love with fashion the way she did, because it consumed her fully, and she has to make conscious efforts to pay attention to things beyond art and fabric and clothes, he knows she does. He wants a deeper understanding, not for the sake of dissecting her personality, but just to know her, if she only allows him. 

He only zones back in when he knows Tiffany is directly addressing him. “Shawn, you finalised the BVLGARI one last week, we’re still okay with that?”

“Yes,” he says, not sure of where to look, so he continues looking at himself in the mirror. 

“Great, honey, you can put this and the chain on him and I’ll go check with the rest of the team.” Tiffany squeezes her arm with a bright smile, and turns to Shawn again, “Looking good, little Dean, it’s almost show time!” 

Shawn smiles back silently, watching Tiffany leave the room, as does she. She makes quick work of walking back to him and placing the box on the vanity before him. She takes his vest off the rack, helping him get into it and buttoning him up, and then does the same with his blazer, not a word exchanged between them two. 

Shawn used to be an “I can do it myself” guy until Tiffany just had to go ahead and hire the prettiest, shyest girl he’d seen, and he suddenly never wanted to button anything up on his own ever again. 

She carefully picks the royal white and blue beaded necklace from the box where it was placed amongst a few other expensive ones. She clears her throat and he leans his head down out of instinct, coming to a more approachable height for her to hook the necklace in. 

“So,” she starts, and he chokes on a breath he didn’t know he took, “I just, I googled Antico. It looks … upmarket to say the least. Very pretty, though. Looks like a place you would pick.”

She feels his eyes continue to follow her around, she still chooses not to look him in the eye, how could she? She delicately pulls out the chain meant to be hooked into his vest, the one that will complete his look for the night. He looked… beddable, to say the least. 

“But I also saw another thing,” she says, stepping closer into him and he inhales deeply. “Antico doesn’t stay open on the weekends, Shawn. How were we supposed to go there on a Sunday?”

shitshitshit. He’d been caught. Honestly what was he expecting? She’s literally one of the smartest humans he knows, what did he expect her to do? Say yes? No questions asked?

She looks him dead in the eye now, letting out a hmm? and he’s choked up again. He staggers around a bit, she pulls at his hands to adjust his sleeves and tuck in his cufflinks. 

“You said, um,” come on, brain, pull it together. “Remember when we were in  London? And we all went out together and when we got out there was this whole crowd waiting?”

She remembers. Of course she does. It was the first, albeit not the last time she had come really close to having a panic attack in front of all her coworkers. He recognised the look on her face. He’d seen it on his own face in the mirror when he tried to talk himself away from breaking down. He knew what this anxiety felt like, even though years of being in the business had numbed him to large, loud crowds, overzealous fans and intrusive paparazzi alike. He had taken her hand in his and pulled her back inside the pub immediately, calling his driver and asking him to pick them up ‘round the back, and getting out of there in record time. He didn’t know what came over him but he pulled her into his arms as soon as they were in the car. He murmured softly into her ear, he was here, they couldn’t get to her anymore and she had sniffled and cuddled closer - until they reached their hotel and it was back to being a standard five feet apart from each other. It was one of the last times she had gone out with the whole team, especially him. 

“I made a special request, they’re opening up only for us tonight. I don’t really want to stay for the whole show, thought we could sneak out a bit early. I just didn’t want us to be crowded again.”

Her hands froze around his, he left her tongue tied on most days but this was something else. At the lack of response from her, he gently pried her hands off his wrist, holding both lightly in his. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. I won’t like you any less.”

Her mind rushed back to all the times they had stood close just like this. The time he almost kissed her on her birthday and she almost kissed him on his. The one night they both passed out on the couch in his tour bus, when she wasn’t even supposed to ride with him. She thought about the offer letter that had been in her emails for two days now, offering her a place in the client servicing team for Burberry in London. She thought about the 4 weeks’ notice she had typed out for Tiffany weeks ago, the only reason for her not sending it out standing in front of her. Her mother’s words rang in her head, as they have her whole life. If you’re not moving, you’re not growing. 

He squeezes her hands once, ducking his head to the floor and walking away. She thinks about letting him go, but she refuses to. 

Her fingers clasp around his wrist, pulling the gentle giant back a little bit. 

“Will you wear the silk shirt? The black one?”

He looks confused. Didn’t he just get dressed?

“To Antico? Thought we could match.”

taglist: @shawnwyr​ @mendesstories​ @lanallaa​ @sleepybesson​ @rulerofnocountry​ @luvluvxx​ @wholesomemendes​

dm to be added or removed ♥️

[maree-ff]

Interlude: Remission

CAMILA

Excited, joyful, in lust, anxious, nervous, and overwhelmed. These are all of the emotions I was hit with at three o’clock this morning when I woke up to begin my day. Today officially marks five weeks, seventy-two hours and sixteen minutes since I ruined our relationship. Today also marks the same amount of time that Jorden has completely flipped his switch. His behavior is nothing like Andre or I have ever dealt with. I know I’m to blame for calling off our engagement but it’s almost as if Jorden feels like I took his father away. That was never my intention by any means. I only wanted for Andre and I to take some time out to explore every crevice of our relationship. The energy in our union has been off and I want to know what the root of the issue is.

Papi’s been coming by everyday to bring the kids home from school. He’s even stayed to tuck them in, help me clean up from the aftermath of dinner and then he leaves. He’s been distant, rightfully so, but I miss him! I’ve been yearning for attention and I haven’t craved male companionship in ages! Tonight, I’m going to try and do things differently. I’ve been spying on him to get his schedule for today so I can scheme and coordinate in peace. Andre didn’t pick up the kids today because I asked for his mother to do it herself. The girls are helping me choose what to wear for my weekend away while their baby brother is napping.

Sliding my boots on I tiptoed around the mess I created, rushing to get their opinion. I spun around, danced a little, showing off another outfit I pieced together.

“Okay, nenas...what about this?” I’m frantic. I am supposed to be meeting Dre at a resort in Palm Springs. He has an assignment there for the weekend so I figured this is the perfect time for us to fix what’s broken.

“Shoes..perfect. Outfit..even better.” Zoe smiles assuringly.

Kenja tilted her head left and right before responding to my question. “Perfecto..”

“Perfecto? La verdad o es esa actitud que estoy escuchando?” I sassed her.

“Si..la verdad. Mom, mira la hora por favor.” She pointed out. Glancing at my watch I cursed under my breath, rushing to get out of here. I tossed what I need for the weekend in my bag, smothering my girls in affection. I looped my bag over my shoulder and quietly raced up the steps to check on my youngest baby.

Cautiously I entered his bedroom, blushing at the mere sight of him. “Mommy’s going to fix this nino. I promise. For you and tu hermanas.” Shuffling to his bed I pulled his blanket up over his stomach to keep him warm. “Mommy loves you baby. I’ll see you when I get back and I’ll make sure to kiss Papi for you, if he’ll let me.” I kissed his forehead and backed away before he had the chance to wake up.

I left his room, spoke to Divya briefly and headed straight for Palm Springs.

————  ———— 

Pushing the bottle further down into the ice bucket I turned around to check out the room. I managed to get an extra key to his hotel suite since he’s still out. I got a phone call from Meah saying that he should be arriving shortly.

“Mommy,” I exhaled. Clutching the Bible to my chest I looked out at the sun setting over the horizon. “Necesito su orientación.” My spirit feels alive again. I can feel her. “I need you to walk me through this. I ruined my relationship and I need to get it back. Please watch over me and don’t let me screw this up.” Marking my body in favor of the cross I set the Bible down and put some final touches on his room.

About fifteen minutes later I heard a key unlatch the lock to the room.

“Alright, look I’ll tell you what. Let me look over the proposal, run the account and find the bug.” The door shut and the automatic lock clicking made me jump out of my skin. These goddamn nerves! Quickly I downed one of the shots I poured, needing to calm myself before he saw me. I stood tall by the window, looking out at the montañas and hills. “No man, I will personally take care of the firewall and the hiccup in your account. Why don’t you sen-”

Our eyes met the second his speech paused. With the phone to his ear, he silently set his bag down, looking me up and down. “I will have my assistant contact you so you can get me that file personally. Once I get to the bottom of this I will call you..” he motioned to the glass signaling for me to pour him a drink.

I did as he asked, going ahead to fill two glasses.

“Of course. I’ll get back to you in a few days.” His phone touched the desk as did his jacket. “I’m surprised.” He simply stated.

Closing our distance I handed him the glass, holding my own with two hands. “I know.” I agreed. “Necesitamos hablar.” I sipped on my champagne, reading his energy from the body language he’s showing.

“About?” He too sipped from his glass, going to remove his tie.

“Let me..” I offered. I set my glass down to complete the task I offered to take off his hands. A mass of nothing but fears from my subconscious lodged my airways, making it difficult to look at him. “Habla sobre nosotros, nuestra familia y el futuro de nuestra relación.” The slow movement and slithering sound of his tie falling across his shoulder made my heart skip a beat.

“So let’s talk then. Where should we start? You breaking up our family or completely blind siding me at dinner that night?” I knew this surprise visit from me would be a battle but I wasn’t expecting fire this quickly.

I draped his tie over the back of the chair, not wanting the fabric to catch wrinkles. “Don’t do that. I don’t want to fight with you tonight. For you and for us but not with you.” I created space between us, giving him room to breathe again.

“Why not? There’s enough issues to go around that we can argue about right? Isn’t that what you were saying five weeks ago when you tore our family apart?” He’s agitating me and he knows it. He’s pressing my buttons on purpose but I sympathize with his anger and hurt.

“Everything. Papi, we can fix this. I want to fix this. I broke us apart and for good reason but I want to make it right. I never wanted to hurt you or our family.” The sun has vanished leaving the sky lit up in the most beautiful orange and yellow blend.

“Mm..that’s the memo I got and if I’m correct you did hurt me. You hurt our bond, our love and our kids.” He calmly explained his point, fully raising my nerves.

Snapping my head in his direction I warned him not to steer us down a path we may not recuperate from. He clapped back at me as if I’m not in this fight with him.

“Ay, basta ahora! No me hables así! I hurt myself too, okay? You’re not the only one who got hurt that night alright? Stop trying to make me feel like crap and help me fix the problem!” Waving my hand for him to cut the nonsense out, I paced the floor waiting for him to react.

“What problem, Camila? Tell me what are these problems you speak of? I never saw any facet of our relationship that was broken and needed to be fixed. Were you imagining things that aren't real? What is it?”

“Our chemistry must have been off, Dre. It didn’t feel like old times. Y me estás llaman loco? That’s not fair of you to say! I meant what I said and how I feel is valid. You cannot deny the way I feel! Those are my feelings and I am entitled to them!” I yelled.

He approached me silently, picking up the shot from the tray. He threw it back, poured another two rounds, encouraging me to take second. “Our chemistry? What about our chemistry? Break it down for me. We have all weekend right? That’s why your bag is partially unpacked and you got a second key to the room? Well let’s get to the bottom of this shall we?”

He doesn’t know this but that was my fifth shot since I checked in. The scent of his cologne sent my desire for lust, love, affection, attention, you name it..into overdrive. I rolled my eyes swiftly as he walked past me into the living room of the suite. I followed him thinking of how to recite my feelings.

“Well..I feel like you’re still holding back. You never opened up about what happened to you while you were away. You’ve changed, baby. I recognized the signs when you came home. I didn’t pester you about my concerns because I had enough to deal with already. But you have changed and I just want you to feel comfortable enough to be open with me about what you went through.” Removing my earrings I placed them on the coffee table. Andre was mute. He drew an invisible figure eight with the champagne flute in his hand. “Coming here was intentional my love but stressing you out wasn’t.” I reminded him. I inched over to the large windows, taking in the views with him.

Throwing back the remaining champagne, Andre set the glass down by his feet. “Yeah I changed. I’m ashamed of a lot of events that have taken place over the course of my life. You know that. Being away is at the very top of that list. You know that too. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to share at all with anyone but God himself. I can’t.” He disagreed.

Cupping the nape of his neck I fingered the smooth hair, getting excited. He hasn’t touched me in weeks and I’m still breastfeeding so my hormones are driving me batshit crazy. I have been forced to stick out this drought between us, calculating how long until I get him back. Allow me to be frank and say that I have ventured down the road of self pleasure but it takes too long. I’m capable of satisfying myself on a small scale but I need him for that soul snatching, big time release.

“I’m not shaming you, papi. I would never do that. Though I strongly urge you to reconsider. God is an excellent choice mi amor pero I-” his hand claimed my throat as he backed me into the glass. The liquor in my bloodstream and on his breath made me want more. “Por favor..” I am prepared to beg, plead or use any other extreme measures I have up my sleeve if this will bring us closer. I cupped his cheek, yet again finding our son in him. Their eyes hold a familiar sense of depth and comfort. “I want to fix this, really. Again I’m sorry love, you must believe me.”

The teaser of his increase in pressure to my neck turned me on. I’m sure that was his intention and I have no objections. He’s never harmed me which is good because I love when he uses force. A little pain feels ten times better when sex and intimacy are around the corner.

“I know.” He huffed. I’m already wet with anticipation. He only added fuel to my fire. He overpowered me, giving off anger and animosity. I’ll take what I can for the time being, wanting what I’ve been deprived of. I can’t decide if I want this first time back into our fold to go by quickly because I’m so hungry or if I want to take my time.

“I want both.” I thought aloud.

Andre ripped through my clothes without any regard for common sense to treat my belongings with respect. “Of?” He uttered quietly.

We disrobed one another not caring that anyone could possibly walk by the room. We’re completely exposed and normally I’d be willing to keep watch for bystanders but tonight I don’t care much. Let them have a show to enjoy.

Tossing the belt he had on somewhere off to the side I rid him of his trousers, dominating the scene. “I want this to last but I’m desperate after five weeks.” I whined. I did not allow him to choose what pace he would rather stick with. “Give me what I want. Answers and attention.” Moving in for the kill I felt the ground lighten up from underneath my feet. I wrapped my legs around his midsection and locked my ankles to keep myself steady. He stumbled still teasing the clasp of my bra.

My body was freed from the confines of my brassiere, leaving me open for the taking. Andre granted my wish. He fucked the soul out of me up against the glass but tenderly and lovingly. We traded off with the power of getting the beauty of both worlds. What feels like angry, make-up sex carried on out to the hot tub that’s acquainted with the room. I gasped for new air, gripping his hip and palming his lower back to force him into me.

I needed a resting place for my head so I sought out the rim of the tub. My brief moment of desiring to speak ceased to exist as he touched two of my favorite spots. My outcry made me tearful and oh so sad. Sex only places a bandaid over our issues but a lovely bandaid it is. We carried on in the hot water and later transported our affairs back inside the room.

The time has come for us to use our words again. Tying my robe closed I lifted my hair up and out. With a heavy heart I studied Andre from several feet away.

“When did you begin to feel the shift?” He asked me, barely looking over his shoulder.

Clearing my throat I swiped my glass from the desk, taking a sip. “Sometime after Jo’s fifth or so doctor appointment. I think..”

Dre’s insincere snicker ruffled my feathers. He took a long drag of the blunt he’s been working for half an hour. Putting it out he sucked in a fresh wave of oxygen only to take his time blowing it back out. “So Ali is the root of your issues with me?”

“Let’s be adults about this. You know damn well that’s not what I’m getting at nor is that what I’m saying. Maybe it was the stress of waiting for all of the test results to come back..” my sentence ran off as did my feet. I walked myself across the room to look out onto the night sky. Finishing off my champagne I built up the courage to explain a selfish mistake I made so long ago. “I still feel guilty for my comment. I didn’t mean it then and I didn’t mean it now. The waiting and re-testing was backing me into such a dark place that I traded in hope for fear. That is no excuse and I have to live with my idiocy at that moment for the rest of my life.” Turning on my heels I zeroed out the space between us. I placed my hands upon his shoulders, molding to his shape wanting to ease the tension in his upper body. “But you were there. You didn’t give up on our son even while I had doubts and bombarded you with my sadness over the matter.”

Inching closer I captured his lips, entangling us to each other for round three. Speaking about our kids brings me back to consciousness. All of the wild sex that we’ve had since Jorden was born has surprisingly not created another child. This troubling and confusing separation has not hindered an inkling of romance. All that’s different is the lack of title.

“We’re supposed..to be talking..” he hummed. I fondled my way into his lap, going head first.

“Not right now we aren’t.” I denied. I’m in the mindset for a specialty cocktail I can’t put a price on. My skin began to heat up from under the robe. It’s my throat, mouth and hands that are the hottest points of me currently. I used my hands, feverishly wanting to bring him all the way up so I could stop and get him angry. His fingers ran through my hair finding the right coordinates to hold my head still. His body shuddered underneath mine as I ramped up my speed so he can feel like he’s in control of the moment. He’s never been allowed to dominate my pace when I’m pleasing him. I was very transparent in the beginning stages of our romantic relationship about why he can’t force me down or hold me still. In exchange we have worked out an arrangement to where he feels like he’s in control but he’s really not.

The overflow of saliva and the tiny bubbles running down over my fingers and wrists turned up my pride. It’s also the sweet melodic manner in which my name and God’s fills the air. I always honor him with his few moments of fame in thinking that I can’t handle his measurements. There are times when I doubt myself. Like the generous man that Andre is, he never comes short with complimenting how charming my tongue is. The hyper speed of his shaft and juevos sliding in and out my mouth brought on the most beautiful feeling. My scalp is tingling from the massage he’s giving me while I’m finishing the one I’m offering him.

His call out to the heavens is making me greedy. I’ll admit to it and I want him to know. Halting, I knelt before him and pushed him down, ultimately mounting him. Our mouths reunited in sync, no exceeding dominance displayed. My back touched down against the plush comforter, he removed my robe, and I used my hands and feet to disrobe him of his pants.

“Cuidarme, yo soy tuyo.” I begged. Our bodies meshed together resembling a fly getting caught in a Venus fly trap. My internal organs accommodated his endowment warmly. I saw darkness as he set himself up with the right momentum. “Ay Dios!” I called on our Heavenly Father several times over in the most disrespectful way. Tightening the grip I have on him I forced eye contact needing to face him head on.

His affirmation of how I’m making him feel calmed my nerves. “Making love to you always feels a step above incredible..” he told me once again.

Blissfully grinning from ear to ear I matched his strides, watching him react just the way I wanted him to. “Mm,” I hummed. “..te sientes mucho mejor.” I moaned heavily. The darkness took over again, shutting down any verbal conversation for the rest of this fight to the top of the mountain.

————  ———— 

Staring at the moon aligned with the stairs I rolled my eyes listening to Andre ramble. He’s been on a hot streak for what seems to be pushing eternity. In reality only a few minutes have lapsed.

“Can you please sit down? Your pacing is unsettling.” I advised him.

“I can’t believe you would even stoop so low to bring Jorden into our problems. I know the testing was hard on you but you can’t place the blame of our downfall on him.”

“I never said Jo was the source of our problems! All I said was that the outcome and the process itself brought me down to a place I had never been before. I have no reason to blame our children for the reason our relationship was severed and I never will. You’re taking my words and running with them trying to make me look like a shit mother and I’m not. I always put our kids first. The reason we’re apart is because of tu y yo! There are no other parties to blame except for us so don’t ever drag anyone into our shit. We made this mess together so we are responsible for cleaning it up!” Standing up to walk around I meddled in my hair only wanting to reflect.

There’s the fight about Gerrard’s initial arrival. That was the first time that Andre accused me of being unfaithful. He hurt me down to the core. I was already battling how to deal with the slander brought to my name and in my place of work. The pain from Gerrard’s doing and the assumption was double what I was expecting.

Exhaling through my nose I picked up my hair, rubbing my scalp. “Dígame, was Gerrard’s first appearance something that stuck around for you? Did you think about that day anytime afterward?” I asked him.

“Sometimes, yeah.” He confessed.

“Why did you do it? I have never understood why you felt the need to question me after our history. I don’t think I’ll ever understand. I’ve never once accused you of anything even at my lowest point so I’m just trying to put the puzzle pieces together here.” As I met his eye I put in a strong effort not to look angry.

Andre’s shoulders fell as he ran his hands over his head. “I just got scared. I had a moment of weakness and took it out on you. I was sorry then for the way I behaved and I’m sorry now. I will forever be sorry.”

“I know. That’s number one. Numbers two, three and so on. Gerrard coming around the second time, the psychos you once called family, Chris… There’s so much heavy shit in your past and in ours as a unit that keeps me up some nights.” Letting my arms fall I crossed them over my chest.

“Are you a-”

Stopping him short I held up my hand swiftly. “I am not angry. I am not sad. I don’t know what I am.”

My shoulders gained weight. I dropped my head to one side feeling my muscles loosen up.

“I have a feeling that I-my mistakes are a part of our downfall. Amongst other things now that I’m diving deep into our past.” He says.

“Que otras cosas? Dígame por favor.”

He claims that all of what I mentioned are the strongest points that broke the very foundation we’ve built. I deny it all. There’s got to be something else that we are missing.

“I owe you my life babe and I know that you hate hearing about my suicide attempt but it’s relevant. That moment in my life will forever be pertinent to many conversations that we share. That memory, despite how painful it is to both of us, plays a key role in why I am the way that I am today. I still don’t see what you see but I do know that I don’t want to lose you.” He resumed the massage on my shoulders, making me feel warm again.

“A little to the right please.” I suggested. He followed orders eliminating all tension in my upper back. “Mira, I don’t take pleasure in giving you the ring back. Deep down I just didn’t feel right wearing such a statement with the way I was feeling. The way that I’m still feeling. I’m not sure how long it will take us to get back to our old ways but I don’t want to lose you either.” I faced him sliding my hands up his chest. “I did not come here to argue and go back and forth. I want to get to the root of the problem hoping that we can find some middle ground and work our way back to normal.” I used him as a place to lay my head.

“Agreed.” He solemnly voiced.

[f1-disaster-bi]

6 kisses + 15 hugs for Sebchal Romantic please, I could use some happy right now☺️

Here you go! I hope you enjoy it, it’s my first time writing for this pairing and I loved every minute of it! Drop a kudos on AO3 or a like on this if you did!

Tender Embraces and Slow Kisses

Charles wanted to cry as he stared at the disaster around him.

The pans were smouldering in the sink, the pot was somehow burnt so badly that there was no saving it and he had had to toss it in the bin along with the food that had been in it.

The fire alarm had stopped beeping, but the kitchen still smelled of smoke and failure, and even though Charles knew Sebastian was no stranger to the smell of smoke working in F1, he didn’t think his boyfriend would like to return home to it after the disaster of the Imola Grand Prix.

Charles had seen the frustration and disappointment in his boyfriends’ eyes as he had entered the media pen.

Sebastian may have been smiling and joking with the interviewers, but Charles could see tension in his partners shoulders. He could see the tiredness that only came with the frustrations of a bad race result due to the car after you had given it your all.

It had hurt Charles, watching Sebastian struggle after being ousted by a team he loved dearly until that bitter goodbye, and it still hurt him now as he watched Sebastian be hit with penalties, as he struggled to get up the grid and the voice calling him washed up and overrated got louder in the media.

Charles had only glanced at twitter once while waiting for his flight to take off, having managed to change his flight to an earlier one, and what he had seen had made him want to cry. In the end he had turned the device off, not wanting to see the comparisons between himself and Sebastian that some people drew online. Or worse the ones saying there were more deserving drivers that should have gotten that Aston seat and Sebastian should step aside.

He had had the whole flight as he pretended to sleep, ignoring the others around him, to think of ways to cheer up his boyfriend.

He knew that Sebastian would come home and only want to celebrate Charles’s result and the amazing start he was having to his season. Maybe after a day or two Charles would wake up early with only Bruno in the bedroom snuggled into the warmth that Sebastian had left behind after feeding their pup, and instead he would find the older working on one of his cars or bikes in the garage where Charles would bring him coffee and sit silently listening to Sebastian’s music and handing him tools.

Unlike Charles, who liked to pout and rage in his drivers’ room after bad races, tossing stress balls off the walls and screaming his frustrations into a pillow before showering away the stress and frustration, Sebastian needed to work. He needed to feel a car or bike come to life under his gentle hands until things made sense once more, until he was ready to shrug everything off and give Charles that blinding smile that made his heart flutter and cheeks blush as he called him Schatz and pulled him from the floor back to their bed where they would curl up as they took turns reading to the other.

Despite knowing Sebastian would be fine, even if right now he was hurting as he waited for his own flight home, Charles felt the need to doing something for his boyfriend. He had wanted to surprise him and make a romantic dinner.

He had planned everything perfectly, arranged for everything he needed to be delivered that morning and had timed everything so that the food would be ready and waiting when Sebastian stepped through the door.

He had even ordered a cake, red velvet with buttercream frosting. Sebastian’s favourite as it was the one his mother made for him every birthday.

Charles had been willing to make food, but he didn’t want to mess with Sebastian’s favourite cake, ordering it instead from his boyfriend’s favourite bakery run by a lovely old lesbian couple that were always trying to sneak him and Sebastian extra treats.

Despite having everything planned, Charles had not accounted for Pierre calling him in frustration because he had taken Max’s offer of a ride home on his jet, only to have to sit next to Lando for the entirety of the flight. The Brit having decided to visit Max and Alex in Monaco for a week between the races, and Max had brought Daniel, the other two deep in conversation leaving Pierre to sit fuming beside Lando who had managed to spill water on him at one point.

And Charles, even though he could drive a Ferrari at top speeds and had the reflex skills to challenge a God due to his training, was easily distracted by any type of drama that Pierre always found himself in and had video called Pierre while waiting for the food to cook.

He hadn’t noticed it was burning until Pierre was asking him why there was smoke coming out of the kitchen and the fire alarm started blaring as he hung up on the other shocked driver.

By the time he had it under control, the little fire that had started put out with their mini-fire extinguisher kept in the press, he was left with burnt food, two pots in the bin and a frying pan steaming in the sink.

The only thing he had successfully managed to do was set the table with their fancy tablecloth that was a dark red with gold detailing and the table set that Sebastian’s mother had gifted them when Charles moved in. The cake sat tauntingly in the middle of the table.

Charles was so lost in his despair, staring at mess he had made and trying not to cry, that he hadn’t heard the front door until someone was speaking behind him.

‘Did you set fire to our kitchen? Were my brakes not enough fire drama for one weekend, sweetheart?’, Sebastian laughed behind him, startling Charles into jumping as he turned to face the other.

‘I….I didn’t mean to’, Charles defended, crossing his arms over his chest at the delighted look of fond exasperation that his boyfriend gave him.

Sebastian was leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, still wearing his team hoodie and a pair of fitted jeans (the best thing to come out of this Aston contract Charles had argued as he got rid of Sebastian’s jean shorts), just watching him with a soft look in his eyes.

‘Well I would hope you didn’t do it on purpose Schatz, otherwise we need to have a conversation about how you can target those skills at other places….maybe the FIA headquarters to start’, Sebastian joked, trying to lighten the mood as Charles pouted at him.

‘I know a few other drivers that would help me’, Charles joked back, thinking of Lance and Yuki’s penalty’s that had been handed out post-race.

‘Hm, but I can’t let you go to prison, can I?’, Sebastian sighed, smile bright as he stepped forward and held his hand out to Charles, ‘What would I do without you to cause trouble, hm?’.

Charles grumbled, but didn’t protest as he took Sebastian’s hand, letting the older tug him into a tender embrace with Sebastian’s arm around his waist holding him close. His free hand cradling the back of Charles’s head as if he were something precious to be treasure and pressing the other gently to rest his head on his shoulder, running fingers through his hair gently.

Charles felt himself relax for the first time since he had bid Sebastian goodbye in Italy, let himself hold Sebastian close with fingers curled in the soft hoodie he wore, and his nose tucked against the edge of the others jaw as they just held each other close.

‘I just wanted to make you a nice dinner to welcome you home and cheer you up, but I burnt everything’, Charles whispered, eyes closed and just feeling Sebastian’s chest rise against this own, their breaths in sync.

‘Thank you, Schatz, but I don’t need any fancy dinner or cake’, Sebastian smiled, dropping a kiss on Charles’s head, ‘I just need you’.

Charles felt his cheeks heat up, tucking his face into the others neck as Sebastian laughed gently at Charles’s shy reaction to the soft admittance.

‘Seb…’, Charles protested softly, yet holding the other closer as he peaked up at those blue eyes that sparkled with nothing but love and fondness for him. Even if he did set fire to their kitchen.

‘Charles, nothing beats coming home to you’, Sebastian smiled, tilting the others chin up to press a kiss to his forehead, ‘I love you, and I love that you wanted to do something nice for me, but all I need is you, Schatz’.

Charles stared at him in amazement at how easily he let his declaration of love roll of his tongue while Charles usually had to work his way up to saying the words to the other, forever doubting that Sebastian wouldn’t tire of him for being clingy or needy, yet at every turn this man surprised him.

‘I love you too’, Charles whispered back, moving his arms to loop around Sebastian’s neck and pull him into a kiss.

Unlike their other welcome home kisses, this one was slow and sweet. There was no rush as they held each other close as Sebastian let a hand press at the small of his back and the other cradle his head gently once more. Their kiss was drawn out, neither feeling the urge to speed it up or nip at the others lip to get things moving. Instead, it was languid, just the two of them lost in each other and letting their lips move together expressing all the words that got caught in their throats and never managed to find a way to the surface for fear of rejection.

Charles didn’t know how long they had stood there, wrapped in each other and trading long slow kisses. The other pushing in for more each time they pulled back until Sebastian pulled away, resting his forehead against Charles, and humming softly as he basked in the afterglow of the kiss. Both of them slightly breathless and not wanting to part.

Charles could have stayed there forever. Safe and warm in Sebastian’s arms, yet Sebastian’s voice once again.

‘If I leave you alone in the living while I shower and order food, are you going to somehow set the curtains or television on fire too, Schatz?’, Sebastian teased, pulling back to watch as Charles made an affronted noise, pushing the older away from him as he laughed at Charles’s offended pout.

‘Just for that, no cake for you!’, Charles pointed an accusing finger at Sebastian, ducking past the German’s outstretched arms trying to pull him into another hug and making a break for te cake sitting in the dining room.

‘Don’t be like that Schatz!’, Sebastian laughed, the kind of laughter that made Charles’s lips tug with a fond smile as the German driver followed him, pressing up against his back and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Later as he curled up in Sebastian’s lap trading slow kisses that tasted of buttercream as one of his French soap operas played on Netflix in the background, Charles had to admit that tonight had turned out perfectly as Sebastian smiled into their kisses.

Although when he came home from the Portuguese Grand Prix to find the presses and fridge in the kitchen fitted with child-locks, and three more fire extinguishers on the counter Charles considered for a moment whether he truly wanted to spend his life with some with such a wicked sense of humour.

Especially when a grinning Sebastian gifted him a How to Cook cookbook for children.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Mouse Droids and How To Fix Them – A Quick And Easy Guide [Livestream] Summary: Luke has a Space Youtube Channel and Leia watches his videos to de-stress from a terrible day. Mouse droids are named and the Empire and its terrible quality are dragged through the sarlacc pit. AN: Anyway, did somebody said TIE-Fighter story prequel? No? Too bad.

Leia was a well-composed and well-behaved serene princess right up until the doors of her rooms closed behind her. The moment she was out of sight, she kicked off her shoes with such a force that they soared half across the room and crashed against her wardrobe with a loud crack. She took the pins keeping her braids in place out of her hair and threw them onto the dresser. Then as graceless as a regular fifteen-year-old girl, Leia dropped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow.

Today had been terrible.

Leia hated all the pointless festivities that only ever served to make everyone there feel important and powerful but did absolutely nothing for the people they were supposed to govern. She couldn’t understand how her parents managed it. They were good and selfless people, always calm and serene even when the newest governor was basically spitting one insult after the other at them. Leia always wanted to shout back, it was her first instinct. Idiots who couldn’t be bothered to contribute anything productive or kind, should shut up and stop hindering others from doing their job. Leia had kept her mouth shut of course. She had smiled pleasantly as her mother had taught her and acted as expected from her.

But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t wanted to strip the gloves off her hands and show him how much of a bloodthirsty royal she really was. She shouldn’t have desired it, but it annoyed her so much when others purposefully misunderstood her. It had been a year since she picked her coronation color. When would people finally stop commenting on it?

Yes! Princess Leia Organa had chosen white! She’d forgone five-hundred-years of tradition and picked the color of the snow on Alderaan’s mountains, of ice so cold it burned, of the sheets upon which they wrote the names of their dead.

Leia wore the color of war, mourning and remembrance and she wore it well.

How could she not when the Empire was murdering innocents, subjugating whole worlds and waging an unjust war? Picking green or blue would be an insult upon the suffering she had been forced to witness. She didn’t want to be remembered as another impassive royal, bowing to the whims of the Empire. Leia hadn’t been meant to live in a tyrannizing Empire in which she had to watch her every word and step. She wanted to speak her mind and missed the Republic she never got to experience.

Her parents, while displeased she out herself in such danger, had understood it. Most Alderaanians understood it and supported her, but not that stupid new governor. Instead, he went on and on about her image and character flaws – and worse! Talked about marriage.

Leia was already dead set on staying unmarried. Her parents had been lucky. Despite their marriage being arranged, they’d loved each other. Or maybe they had been in love first and the political advantage of the marriage was just a bonus. Leia didn’t entirely know, but she knew to one hundred percent that all her potential Alderaani suitors sucked. They were arrogant and petty or worse, both of that but way older than her as well. She could marry somebody from a different planet, but the Old Houses would frown upon that and then she’d have to deal with more in-fighting and risk losing control of Alderaan’s society and give the Empire even more access to her planet. It was bad enough as it was.

Groaning, Leia rolled onto her back and got up from her bed again. She’d hate herself in the morning if she didn’t dress out of the fine robes completely. She fetched herself her sleeping clothes and washed the make-up off her face. It felt like taking off uncomfortable armor and she was more than glad to get rid of it. Leia didn’t mind dressing up. As a child, she had loved trying on her parents’ much too large clothes and she still loved picking out dresses together with her mother, but sometimes she wished it all wouldn’t take so much energy.

Redressed, Leia returned to her bed, ready to pretend to fall asleep when she knew that she wouldn’t be able to close her eyes now. Her mind was too unfocused, her thoughts all jumbled up. She laid still and waited until another moment had passed before reaching for her bed stand and pulling out her secret private comm.

Leia had three of them. One for official business, one was the officially private secret comm – the one every important person in the galaxy was supposed to have and hide – and then there was her own, which she used to stay up-to-date with activities unbefitting on an Imperial princess.

She checked the holonet, skimming through articles that made her blood boil and delightfully bright art that called for resistance. She was pleased to notice that more and more Alderaani artists were choosing lighter colors in their barely legal paintings and downright joyful when she saw an account post images of white flags. Those posts would probably be taken down once the meaning behind them spread a little more, but Leia was proud nonetheless. She had caused this, this was her contribution to the Rebellion.

In a better mood already, Leia went through her notifications. She had a few replies to articles she had written and- oh.

 [Notification: Scrap Hunting has started a livestream – 1 Min ago]

Smiling widely, Leia clicked on the link connecting her to the video. The livestream had indeed only started recently, and not even properly. Leia had missed the last one sadly because she’d been in the Core, too far away for Scrap Hunting’s terrible holonet connection to reach. Alderaan was just close enough to Tatooine for Leia to watch them.

She couldn’t quite recall how she had stumbled upon the channel. She had just been clicking through some random videos one day and there it had been. Leia wasn’t all that knowledgeable about ships – her parents had kept a keen eye on her since the Speeder accident she’d had when she was ten – and didn’t really have much access to the hangers either. Droids, on the other hand, Leia knew plenty about. They were everywhere and nobody wanted to live without them, which made them the perfect spies with the right adjustments. Leia knew how to wipe a droid’s memory so clean, it was shinier than any crystal and how to hide protocols upon protocols in their storage. Her favorite droids were C-3PO and the R2D2 unite serving on the Tantive IV. Artoo especially had a lot of personality. Leia needed to sort out her Binary so she could catch all the colorful curses the astromech liked to inflict on people.

The two boys running Scrap Hunting – well, only really Luke actually – were sympathetic. They didn’t talk about droids like they were simple tools and they were proficient in fixing them up. Therefore Leia was very pleased to see that the title of the livestream was Mouse Droids and How To Fix Them – A Quick And Easy Guide. This would be fun, the right kind of distracting noise she needed after such a long day.

X

“Alright, we’re all set up now,” Luke said. “Hello everybody! I’m Luke and welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting!”

He waved at the recorder and then picked up a small back droid from his table. “This is what today’s livestream will be about! An MSE-series droid! A lot of you guys said you’d like more livestreams and the weather’s been pretty good recently and I fixed the signals so I hope this works out just fine.”

Luke smiled and reached for the first tool lying in front of him. “I decided that fixing up this little guy here should be fine for a shorter video. I don’t have to think so much about what I’m doing and can talk at the same time.”

He began taking off the outer casing of the droid and carefully set it aside. “I know, I know, I’m always talking, but nobody complains about it.” Luke stopped spinning his wrench for a moment to think. “Okay, alright, maybe my uncle complains about it sometimes but that’s what he gets for making me check all the vaporators on my own. Anyway, I talk a lot and so does this chat. Lots of people joining in here! Hi!”

Luke looked through the chat, returned greetings and explained how he had gotten the droid as payment for helping out in a repair shop.

“And I know the owner thought he was just giving me so boring little plaything, but do you know how versatile these MSE droids are?”

X

Leia definitely knew how useful they could be. She grinned when Luke comically shook his head when people began sending in question marks and began belittling the tiny Mouse droids. They made excellent spies, infiltrators and guides. Underestimating them just because they were cute was fatal. Leia was happy when Luke reacted as outraged as she was and began elaborating on what the droids could be used for.

X

“And like, I get sending the droids back when they trigger your instincts, I wouldn’t keep around a droid that reminds me of a womp rat or a krayt dragon.” Luke paused, the half-open mouse droid lying on his lap, and apparently considered his suggestions.

“Okay, maybe I would actually want them. Could you imagine a droid krayt dragon? So cool.”

Luke reached for the nearest datapad and took a few notes, then put it next to him on the table and returned to working on the MSE.

“But yeah, point being: Why did the Aar’aa sell them to the Empire so cheaply? Add some extra software and boom, you can sell them for twice the price. Then you’d even make a bonus. Oh, well, I suppose the Empire at least made a good deal there.”

The MSE droid laid bare now and Luke could easily access its memory. He took his datapad once more and connected it to the droid. After a few seconds, he had access to its memory and immediately frowned.

“Or it did not. What is this programming? I researched what I could find before, downloaded some protocols-“ Luke looked away from his datapad to point down, “-links in the description as always. But just- honestly. Who wrote this protocol?”

He gently knocked his head against the droid’s frame. “I’m so sorry, don’t worry, I’ll speed up your processors.”

X

The next hour, Leia spent listening to Luke ramble on about what changes he made and why. Once or twice she even threw her own suggestions in the chat and watched contently as Luke picked up on them and began to work with them. She wished she didn’t have so many duties and could spend her days doing things she actually wanted, take a more active role in the rebellion. But she supposed that as long as she could escape annoying politicians for a while, she’d be fine.

Leia glanced at her chrono. While it appeared to be midday still on Tatooine, it was already early morning for her. She should head to sleep soon.

Thankfully, the livestream was also wrapping up. Luke had reassembled the droid and screwed the last bolt down.

 “And done!” Luke said and helped up the repaired Mouse droid. “A Quick And Easy Guide to Mouse Droids. Now, the only thing left is repainting and naming it. Same rules as always, highest donator gets to choose the color and the name.”

Leia watched as a lot of people began donating. Some just threw in five credits, just to support the channel. She’d done so before as well. It was only right to help somebody else and give him a thanks after cheering her up. Leia typed the first one, then stopped.

She was tired, had been for at least thirty minutes now, but her mind was finally calm as well. She was still and upset, but not so that she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Leia shouldn’t waste her allowance on this, but Leia had also had a terrible horrible no-good day and wanted to name that Mouse Droid.

X

“And that was it!” Luke announced. “Many thanks for all your donations. I’ll keep you posted on what my next project will be. Hopefully something a little more interesting than this little buddy here. Now let’s see… The highest donation is one- one thousand credits from @rebelroyal!?”

Luke’s voice was awfully high-pitched, shock visible all over his face. “Is this real- oh gosh. Thank you so, so much! I’m not sure- Many thanks for supporting this channel! You may name any future Mouse Droids I come across, oh Force. Right. Uhm. What is your suggestion?”

Leia eyes her discarded white dress on the floor and chose.

X

History’s eyes on you @ rebelroyal

Paint it white and name it Emmy! Many thanks for all the lovely content you provide.

Little Emmy, it turned out, look much better in white than it did in the awful black so representative for the Empire.

X

[Notification: Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot has mentioned you in a new post]

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have adopted 4 more mouse droids to keep our ship clean!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

[Foto: Five Mouse Droids standing in front of Luke, who was sitting on the ground, smiling cheerfully. The droid in the middle was Emmy. It was a little banged up and had a couple more scratches. On its right were an orange and a blue droid, freshly painted from the looks of it. On Emmy’s left were two black ones]

@ rebelroyal The orange and blue ones have been painted and named already, care to do the honors for the other two?

X

Leia smiled fondly at the picture and began to type.

History’s eyes on you @ rebelroyal

How about yellow and green? Benny and Penny so it rhymes?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Done :D

[Foto: The two previously black mouse droids have been painted as well and are furiously cleaning the floor of a ship]