#i want him to propose to me too......... also i kept the ring details simple bcos i dont.. uh

[alienaiver]

Proposals Plus One

Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers and references to Godzilla Minus One, it is gender neutral but you are being proposed to ! <3 also iwa gives oikawa the finger if thats not ur thing wordcount: 2.4k content: FLUFF, proposals, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly and body positive reader, Childhood friends to lovers trope, SFW, No use of y/n, canon compliant, post-timeskip, one-shot, established relationship, use of honorifics (iwa-chan is the only one, by oikawa of course), this was supposed to be a drabble hi, also oikawa appears at 5ish am in argentina, i salute him for his dedicated friendship

notes: when i describe iwaizumi watching the movie i basically just described myself LMFAO!!! anyways.. i wanted this to be a let-iwaizumi-experience-my-favorite-movie but it turned into... this! i hope u enjoy heheh <:) <33 PLEASE enjoy my title pun as a reference to Godzilla Minus One!!!!!

Iwaizumi’s hands are not still for more than a few seconds at a time during the little more than two hours you spend in the cinema. They shift between grasping onto his soda or taking the popcorn from you – only to put them back onto your lap, or grasp onto your hand like his life depends on it. Especially during the big, cinematic scenes. When Godzilla starts to charge the atomic beam attack, you hear him take a sharp intake and lean into you, like he really can’t contain his own mortal vessel.

It’s really cute.

You’re glad he brought you along with him, even if you’d been hesitant to begin with.

“Oikawa always goes with you,” you tried to argue, “I don’t want to take his spot.”

Iwaizumi had lowered his gaze and tried to hide his expression when he admitted that Oikawa wouldn’t be in Japan for the release. You genuinely thought he would, so you couldn’t hide the surprise at the admission. “So… you’re not imposing yourself.” he’d grunted afterwards and got up from the dining table, “but you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Whenever there’s a big action scene, like when Noriko falls from the open and destroyed train free-fall into a pool of water or when Godzilla destroys the cinema, he leans forward in his seat before he looks at you and even through a dim cinema with lights only emitting from the screen, you can see the stars reflecting in his eyes, his mouth open in a smile you don’t see often on him. Like he can’t really believe what he’s seeing, and he’s checking with you to confirm it.

When the credits starts rolling and people start to leave, your boyfriend puts his palms on his temples as he uses a moment to process what he’s just seen. Then, very slowly like he’s edited into slow-motion he turns towards you. His eyes are wide and his mouth slack, but the more you get into view, the more the corners of his lips tugs upwards.

You laugh and grip his upper arm, squeeze it lightly, “was it everything you needed the 70th anniversary to be?”

The look he gives you is perplexed; almost like he can’t believe that you’re asking him that. He drags his hands down his face, dragging the skin with him and making a grimace, “what’s the time?” he then suddenly ask, real time seemingly catching up to his body as he hurries to check his watch.

“It’ll roll again at 6! That’s in 45 minutes! We can grab a quick bite and then”- he interrupts himself with a cough before he reminds himself and tenses his shoulders -”sorry, we have a reservation.”

You take him in for a minute, your underlip worried between your teeth as you weigh your options. The reservation isn’t important in and of itself; it’s just a small Yakiniku place that ended up being close to the cinema and you’re full from the popcorn and candy anyways.

You hum, dramatically as you pretend to be an actor for the effect. Iwaizumi’s already on his phone, checking the Google Maps route to the restaurant. You fish out your own phone and go to the cinema’s website to buy two new tickets. During the booking you see it’ll be shown in another of their screens, which only makes you smile mischievously.

When the booking’s confirmed, you start to get up with a sigh, “let’s talk about the movie at the restaurant, yeah?” you try to keep yourself neutral as to not give away your plan. Iwaizumi smiles and puts his arms through the sleeves of his light jean jacket. The summer heat is peaking, so he’d only worn it to have pockets.

You grab onto his hand and squeeze it as he gets up next to you, “thank you for coming with me, it means a lot.”

You kiss his him chaste on the lips before you start to drag him out. After you’ve both been by the bathroom, you pass by the snacks and tug at him, “can we go back in real quick? I really regretted not buying that chocolate bar when we browsed before the movie… please?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at you but smiles widely and follows you, his other hand already searching his pocket for his wallet.

You grab two different chocolate bars, one you know that he likes and your own favorite. Then you go to the soda aisle and pretend to think it through deeply. Iwaizumi’s eyebrow perks up at your behavior, “what do you need soda for? The restaurant will have drinks. If you want something specific we can pick it up on the way home.”

You shake your head and tighten your lips into a frown, “yeah but look! They have this fun variant of melon soda. Don’t you want to taste?” you point to the small sign next to it, “it’s cinema exclusive.”

Iwaizumi is never really able to say no to you, but he is perplexed about the behavior you’re exhibiting. You bite your lip as you give him a pleading look, fearing your luck’s running out. The puppy eyes makes him shake his head and grab two cups to fill. You kiss his cheek with a laugh.

With renewed drinks and snacks (minus the popcorn, you can still feel the kernels stuck to your teeth) you go to sit down by one of their benches, pretending to tie your laces. Iwaizumi sees that your laces aren’t untied, but he stays quiet.

When you sit back up with a satisfied grunt, you grab your phone from your purse and find the tickets, “look babe! We’re in the middle row seats!”

He squints to look properly at what you’re showing him, his nose crinkling in a way you think is adorable. You wish you’d had a second phone to secretly record this reaction. There’s nothing like it. Warmth and blood rises to his face and makes his ears bright red as his eyes widen, mouth hanging slack.

“What did you- how… when did you?” he asks, clutching at his hair with his free hand. You laugh, proud to see him with revived excitement, “I booked them right after. We’re going to have so many snacks that dinner can be a little later… I’d rather experience that with you than that restaurant!”

Iwaizumi pulls back from you a little with a laugh as he drags his hand over his mouth, suddenly looking unsure of himself. You tilt your head to the side. He says, “but that restaurant’s really… uh… special.” You sigh and reach out for his hand, “yeah but you’re more special to me. We can always go some other time, right?”

You’re suddenly afraid he doesn’t want to watch it again, that it was just the adrenaline of excitement making him say it back when the credits where rolling. He mutters unintelligible words under his breath before he mumbles an announcement, “well now’s a good as time as any.”

He then looks at you, the blush returning as he puts the drinks and snacks down next to yours on the bench, “I uh- I need to call Shittykawa real quick.”

Your eyebrow quirks up at that, but you nod. Maybe he wants to tell him about the movie before you watch it again; this used to be their thing growing up after all.

You sit back down on the bench and take out your phone, scrolling through social media as you wait for him to make his call. You’re surprised when the sound of a FaceTime call starts ringing through the air and Iwaizumi looks annoyed. It’s not an uncommon expression on him, so you’re not sure you’re able to decipher the meaning behind it right now.

“Iwa-chan? That’s early! Doesn’t it take 10 minutes to the restaurant?” Oikawa gasps on the other end, “no way, did you get cold feet!? Iwa-chan!!” he suddenly scolds and Iwaizumi grunts out a shut up and you assume point the camera towards you because Oikawa’s voice greets you, strained and perfectly polite. It’s eerily unnatural when acted towards you and not a fan. Confused, you just wave at him and Oikawa gasps again. “In the cinema? That wasn’t the plan at all! Did you already do it?” he continues on, and you make a grimace to Iwaizumi. What the hell is he talking about?

Iwaizumi snaps at Oikawa and hurriedly moves out of earshot from you, mumbling into the phone. Then he comes back with his back straightened´up and stiff, legs seemingly wobbly under his weight. He puts his phone with Oikawa on the call up against the plant next to you, pointing it towards you. You can see Oikawa lying on his stomach on a bed, eye masks on and no light except for the screen – Argentina’s far behind Japan after all. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he’s jogged back in front of you and practically falls to his knee in front of you, wincing from the pain of landing unexpectedly hard.

You think you’re catching on.

Your breath catches in your throat as you keep your eyes locked onto the man in front of you, suddenly fearing he’ll disappear into thin air and that this is just a dream.

Iwaizumi clears his throat and opens his mouth to start talking before he catches himself and hastily goes through his pockets. He pats the chest pocket an extra time before his nimble fingers slide inside and come out with a blue velvet box. Your hands go to cover your mouth, because it’s the same color as Aoba Johsai’s turquoise.

“Why’d you choose Seijoh?” an angry-looking 15-year-old from your new class asked you during the rounds where you’re supposed to get to know each other. With a strained smile you admit sheepishly, “I loved the colors of the school’s volley uniform.”

When he sees your expression he laughs, “I planned to do this at the restaurant – but you willingly choosing to go to the cinema to watch my … uh, my thing, not once but twice. And in a day no less, well…” he clears his throat and looks away, “it kinda knocked me off my feet. I’ve known for a long time this was going to happen but… when you showed me your phone with that excited expression that I love? It’s like… well, it was like the entire universe conspired to confirm that it has to be you… you know?”

He shakes his head and apologizes for sounding so cheesy before he drags a hand through his spikes. When he looks directly into your eyes after gathering himself, you straighten your back and start nodding. He hasn’t even asked you yet but your legs are shaking with the intense feeling of your response.

He laughs when he sees you nod. The raspy and relaxed one, reserved for you. You stare at each other for a time, admiring each other’s eyes and being in this moment, this time in life carved for the two of you. Then he shakes his head and starts to open his mouth. It must take too long though, because your shared childhood menace of a best friend starts booing. You both look to him and Iwaizumi has a scolding ready on his tongue until he sees the fat tears shining on his screen, Oikawa’s nose red and wrinkled.

Iwaizumi decides to simply give him the middle finger before he turns back to you. He says your name with an embarrassed lilt to his tone and finally, at last, formally asks you;

“Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You laugh, unabashed and excited. In your bewilderment you shake your head in disbelief and the raw fear in Iwaizumi’s eyes makes you flinch and yell out a too loud “yes!” to make sure that you were merely reacting to the overwhelming situation in front of you.

People in the cinema are looking, silently clapping and smiling at you both but generally keeping a polite distance. You sniffle and lean towards Iwaizumi, foregoing the ring to fall into his arms. It takes him a moment to process before his arms wraps around you too, pulling you into him so tightly, shaky breaths leaving him as he keeps pawing at your back, your hair, your neck. Like he can’t really believe this is happening, either. You repeat the word “yes” like a prayer, your heart thrumming at intervals you’ve never tried before.

You pull back and wipe a tear from Iwaizumi’s cheek, “you better calm down before we watch it again, huh?”

Oikawa clears his throat from the phone, “the ring, Iwa-chan! The ring!”

Iwaizumi gathers himself and rather forcefully grabs onto your hand before apologizing, letting his finger caress your knuckles in apology. You let him, and he fumbles to get the ring out. It’s a simple one, so very like him. Oikawa chimes in with your exact thought, “he was so panicky at the jeweler! You should’ve seen him!”

You wish you had. Flustered Iwaizumi is your favorite flavor, but seeing him with shaky fingers fitting the ring onto your finger, warms you more than anything else.

You perk up, “is your war finished?” you ask and Iwaizumi’s eyebrow rise for a second before he hears the reference to the movie you just watched and beams, eyes glowing with an excitement you didn’t think could be topped moments before. He leans forward and says yes before he kisses you.

Oikawa cheers and you hurry to pick up his phone and show Oikawa the ring in detail, “you could’ve warned me!” you scold him and he shrugs, “eh, I honestly thought you already knew. And don’t worry, I took plenty of screenshots for your families and friends. There’s even a pretty romantic shot of you hurling yourself into his arms.”

You gasp in feigned insult, “I did not hurl myself!”

Iwaizumi stands before you with his hands in his pockets, a bright smile, “you did kinda hurl yourself.”

“Shut up! Both of you! I’m not taking you into the movie with me! I’m canceling your ticket!”

Iwaizumi pretends to panic but leans down to rest his forehead against you, “you can hurl yourself at me for the rest of my life, I don’t mind. Don’t listen to Shittykawa.”

You shake your head at your two friends.

No, your friend and your fiance. It feels surreal. You wonder how long it’ll take you to get used to. You can’t wait to spend the time finding out.

[cordeliawhohung]

HIIIII I love your Mafia!Price Drabble and headcannons I was wondering if you have any ideas that involve Mr. John Price proposing to his gal or even mentioning having a wee baby :3

hi! thank you so much! i hope i'm understanding your ask correctly in that this is mafia!price you're wanting, so that's what i'm going to write on but if you were wanting captain price instead let me know and i can do another bit <3 i have too many thoughts in this pea sized brain anyway lmao also i decided to give you both the proposal and baby talk <3 (but the baby talk gets smutty cuz i'm feral)

warnings: fem!reader, mafia!price, head cannons mixed with drabbles, fluff and nsfw content, smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions canon typical violence, hope i didn't miss anything (:

you can find more mafia!price in my masterlist <3

Proposing

The thing about Mr. John Price, is that he can get you anything in the world. He's sent you to lavish destinations for holidays, gotten you gifts that seem too expensive for a simple boyfriend to want to gift their partner; there wasn't a rock in the world he would refuse to move for you. So when he decided he wanted to make you his, to make his sweet girlfriend his wife, he finds himself stumped as to what to do in order to really make it stand out from everything else he's already done.

First, there's the ring. He had actually managed to obtain your ring size a few months into seeing one another. A dazzling necklace in a local jewelry store had managed to catch your attention, and he insisted that you go inside to check it out for yourself. While you were there, a ring that you claimed to be similar to your grandmothers had caught your attention, and the jeweler had taken it out for you to look at. You tried to put it on your middle finger, only for it to be too small, so you moved it over to the ring finger instead. It was beautiful, and in a style you kept gushing about. John snuck a glance at the tag, reading and memorizing the size and storing the information in the back of his mind. In the meantime, he bought you the necklace, of course. He ended up going to the same store in order to purchase the ring he wanted to propose to you with.

Then there's the location. Every idea that popped into his head didn't feel right. He was worried about trying too hard, about it feeling unnatural if he planned every single detail out, and yet feared that if he didn't plan enough it wouldn't be special enough. He was always a detail oriented man, and yet he felt as if he would drown in them.

So he lugged the ring around with him for months. Always hidden in his pocket, just out of sight, and yet he could feel it weighing heavier and heavier every day. His worry is something that you can pick up on. You feel it when you rub his shoulders in his office and attempt to melt away the knots in his muscles with your thumbs, you see it in the way he rubs his chin and stares off into space during meals.

John has always been honest with you, and so he made you very much aware of what he does for work before even attempting to pursue a relationship with you. And though he refuses to tell you any specifics in an attempt to keep you safe, you hear some of his men whispering about issues settling disputes with another syndicate. Fearing his stress comes from work, you insist on getting him out of the house. Though he suggests eating at the Greek place you enjoy in the city, or even spending the evening drinking away at one of his clubs (which is just a place for him to hide his tax fraud and money laundering "business"), you insist that you just want to go for a walk. And well, who is he to say no?

Darkness settled over the beach by the time you and John set foot on the shore, but the lights of the city emitted a golden glow that illuminated your face and had you looking as beautiful as ever. Salty water threatened to kiss your feet as you strolled along, and you felt John squeeze your hand while the two of you talked about anything that came to mind.

It was a sand dollar shell that caught your attention. A beautiful, round, and unbroken specimen that you nearly walked right over in the dim light. Fingers slipping out of John's hand, you stopped and bent down to pick it up, ogling over how pristine it was. You held it out, the item small in the palm of your hands as you pointed out each arm on the fossil.

Though you were enamored by the shell, John could only look at you. The way your eyes lit up, how you couldn't help but smile as you told him everything you knew about it, how you always seemed to find joy in even the smallest things. You were radiant, the only light he had in his life. Always smiling, always so kind to him despite how dirty his hands were from work. He didn't have a choice anymore, about being a bad man, but he had a choice when it came to you.

When you pulled away from him to wash the sand dollar off in the water, John found himself falling onto one knee. It was as if he wasn't in control of himself, like his body was telling him the time was right. Cold, damp sand seeped through the fabric of his pants, but he ignored it as he reached into his pocket and pulled out that small, velvet box that had been haunting his clothes for months. Despite all the bad things he had done in his life, he never found himself as nervous as he was in that moment.

Once you were certain all the sand had been washed off of your new possession, you turned around only to drop it to the ground in shock. John Price, the man who headed the most dangerous and effective mafia in the country, the man who always took care of you, who always stood tall and bowed to no one, was on one knee in front of you. The question in his eyes and stance was obvious, and yet you found your hand reaching up to cover your mouth.

"John?" you spoke, as if you were unsure of what he was doing.

He always promised himself he would never make you cry. Would never be the one to cause you any anguish or pain. So when he saw the tears starting to swell in your eyes, he couldn't ignore the way his stomach twisted.

"My whole life I've had whatever I've asked for given to me," he said, thumb brushing over the top of the box, "but I've never wanted something as badly as I want you."

His fingers gently flipped the top of the box open, revealing the dazzling ring you had looked at all that time ago; the one you told him reminded you of your grandmothers ring. A part of you couldn't believe he even remembered that moment, something that had seemed so insignificant at the time.

"I want to cherish you," John continued, "to care for you, to love you. To make you mine. Will you marry me?"

Your answer tumbled out of your mouth faster than you intended it to, nearly cutting the man off before he could fully get the question out.

"Yes!" you nearly sob, your own knees digging into the sand as you throw your arms around your now fiance's neck.

He wraps his arms around you in return, and his chuckle is low and rumbling and deliciously familiar in the way it vibrates through your chest. You can't wait to be able to feel that every single day for the rest of your life.

Baby Talk

Coming from a family born of violence, John was always a little scared to have children, but oh, did he crave being a father. More than that, he craved making you a mother.

But there were these worries that loomed over his head, terrified of dragging his children into the same life he was forced to live. So whenever he did mention children, he only ever sounded half serious.

"This room would make a nice nursery someday." "Maybe we could take our kids here someday, if we have some."

But you saw the look in his eyes. How his gaze lingered on a father playing football with his son in the park, how he chuckled at a young girl lecturing her father about something. Yet he never seriously sat down and talked about kids with you.

So you were the one who ended up really bringing the conversation up. Though, you didn't fully dive into it. Just simple little comments here and there. Ones that were more serious and promising than his own.

"John, look at these! Aren't they just adorable? I can't wait to dress our kids up in stuff like this." "Do you think we'll need a baby monitor? Might be a good idea if we set up a nursery, huh?" "Oh, I love this color. Do you think this would look good on the walls in the nursery?"

Half the time you spoke as if you already had kids or were pregnant, and your words left John's mind spinning. Torn between worry and want, his mind went back and forth between telling himself he shouldn't have kids, and giving into the desire to make you a mother.

And you certainly didn't make it easy on him:

John's cock always knew how to reach the deepest parts of you that turned your brain into nothing but mush. Legs thrown over his arms, he thrusted into you with such force he drew breathless moans from your mouth. His lips brushed against the side of your neck, breath hot and heavy against your skin as he grunted in effort.

Your hands pawed at his back, fingers digging into the rich muscle that covered his shoulder blades and neck. Sweat beaded in the dip of your throat just from the sheer intensity of it all; that burning feeling in your stomach, the tense muscles that shivered all throughout your body, and especially the words he grunted into your skin.

"So goddamn beautiful. Just can't get enough of you," he said, punctuating every word or so with a sharp snap of his hips that left you mewling.

When he was on the brink of his orgasm you could feel the neediness of his thrusts - the strained breaths against your ear - and you felt your cunt clench around him at the thought of him finishing inside of you. Before you knew it, your hands carefully danced across his skin until your palms enveloped his cheeks. You gently moved his head away from your neck, forcing him to look at you as he continued to push himself closer to the edge.

"I wanna give you a baby," you said breathlessly.

Never before had you seen your husband freeze so suddenly. His movements ceased as he buried himself so deep inside of you, you swore he was nudging against your cervix. The sensation ripped a tight moan out of your throat, but it didn't stop you from expressing your wants.

"Please, John, I want it so bad. Wanna be a mum so bad, wanna have your kid," you said, nearly begging. As you continued, you pulled him down until you were close enough to kiss him between words. "Please, let me do this for you, baby, I- fuck!"

John's thrusts continued with little warning, and they were just as passionate as they had been before, if not more. His lips silenced you as he smothered you with a kiss, and he ate up your moans like it was the only sustenance he would ever need.

"Yeah? Fuck darling, you don't know what you do to me," he muttered, voice strained with effort.

As he continued to pound into you, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room, all John could think about was you. You with a swollen stomach and breasts. He could imagine your giggle when you first feel your child kick, or laying in bed together rubbing your back when it ached too much. The thought of it all had him moving with a new sense of vigor, hellbent on filling you until there was no doubt at all that he'd make you a mother.

After all, whenever his wife wanted something, he would move heaven and earth to give it to her.

so i have a confession to make - in this previous mafia!price piece i wrote, i really wanted to put in wife!reader begging price to let her have his kid to thank him for all he does for her, but i wasn't sure if that was too feral so i left it out. but then i put it in here instead and, well yeah. anyway i hope you all have an amazing day, and merry christmas if you celebrate! <3

[simpliao]

Because you did that cute Jschlatt fic about him knowing he’d marry the reader, would you mind doing one where he proposes to his gf? I thought it might be sweet lol

you're worth all the stress in the world ; (irl) schlatt x reader

– part one , – part two , – part three , – part four , – part five , – part six

summary : flowers? check. ring? also check. confidence? maybe not so much. the pair did do the romantic dinner date schtick often, but tonight was different. y/n is worried at the state of her boyfriend, and he's even more so.

info : light swearing, she/her reader, and sweet fluff ! it's fairly long for a heads up !

a/n : I DO NOT MIND ! thank you sm for requesting by the way, greatly appreciate your support and i really hope you enjoy and lived up to the desired sweetness. this one is for you anon ! friendly reminder too that i absolutely adore requests. ( i also have no idea what the japanese in the gif below says but hopefully it ties in. )

With another candle lit, he took a step back to admire what scene he's made of their shared dining room and kitchen space; and then cringed. Was he being too sappy? He wasn't exactly the kind of guy to be overly romantic, know the exact thing to say or how to say it. And yet here he was, having months in advance been planning out the perfect proposal for who he found to be the perfect girl. He considered an expensive restaurant, he considered flying her out of the country. But as those restaurants waitlists could go into years, and his anxiety of losing her in the meantime heightening (not that it was a real concern, abandonment issues over the years made it much harder for him to keep still even if their relationship had been nothing but bliss). He opted for a quiet, sentimental proposal in their own home, planned under the night of a meteor shower. Other people didn't need to witness it, he actually preferred it to be kept as a tender memory between the two without some random fuck coming to ruin it.

He thought every last detail through... Except now as he set the table and lit candles for atmosphere: everything seemed so off, she deserved the world, so much better than this... And in his head he knew she deserved someone better than him. No. He had to stop thinking like that, but the candle arrangements are off. At this rate she'll come home to an imperfect scene–...

"Schlatt?" Her voice questioned from the darkness, he spun around, caught red handed in the middle of the crime. Shit, he uttered out under his breath, she got home early tonight. Although his mind began to race, it softened seeing the unmistakably bright smile that grew across her lips. Her eyes darted towards unscented, lit candles, a set table for two and their missing blinds for their windows. "I uh, I didn't think you'd get home so early." He was pretty adamant that morning to enjoy the full day with her friends, "I missed you. They're fun and all, but you know... I wanted to come home to see you, you were really jumpy this morning. I worried." Setting her purse down and approaching, the simple confession almost had him doubling over from how much his heart burst.

She was always so compassionate, it took him so long to open up to her about his insecurities: feeling unworthy, unwanted. And since she's made sure to never let him feel alone like that again, all the more reason he wanted this woman at his side till the end of time. "I really wanted to surprise you..." He caught himself before realizing she might not have realized the full intent of the surprise date. "...Because I knew how much you'd love watching the meteor shower tonight. It just had to be perfect, y'know?" Even if his excuse was valid, and true: he chose tonight of all nights knowing the skies would be clear and a real sight, his stress never left his tense expression or shoulders.

Gentle hands found themselves upon them, rubbing gently and giving a slight smirk, "I didn't think it had to be such a big thing, but I'm definitely not complaining. You know how much I love seeing you dressed up. You're making me feel underdressed." Bingo. The opening to give himself the privacy to tuck the Prussian blue box in his pockets, considering that it was still tucked into the back of the shelf of his nightstand. "I can get changed." He spoke quickly, too quickly, and his heart sunk seeing the small frown that curved upon his lovers lips. "Are you okay? Is there something on your mind you want to talk about? I can change, it's no issue." Gentle doe eyes, those same eyes that caused his heart to flutter into his throat, practically begged for him to spill.

He knew for both their sakes he had to keep his mouth shut, this wouldn't be the proposal she deserved. If it was bad would she say no..? He could barely choke out a reply, "yeah, it's just... Can you excuse me for a minute?" "Yeah, sure–" And like that he was gone, speed walking down the hall to their shared bedroom. Her arms found herself as she nibbled at the inside of her cheek, trying to think back at his projects and work to what could be the culprit. He was hiding something, that much was evident, but what? The fact he was so adamant about rushing to their bedroom first, about keeping her out of the house, her heart sunk... Was she supposed to be here? She trusted Schlatt, more than anyone else in the world, but he was acting so out of character. She had half a mind to walk into their bedroom unannounced just to feed her curiosity, her fears. But she shook the idea away, he would never. Then what could be stressing him out to the point of having a heart attack?

She didn't have much more time to dwell, a savoury sweet aroma wafted her nose, her eyes shifting their gaze to the kitchen. She was so caught up in Schlatt and his off behaviour to not have realized the intricate dishes that sat upon the counters. With the light on, illuminating the inside of their oven, she noticed that's where the majority of the remarkably delicious scent came from. She approached to get a closer look, noticing the exceptionally beautiful bronzed fish that sat inside, roasting she guessed. From the corner of her eye she noticed his figure reemerging, and she took the moment to try and lighten the mood. "Since when could you cook?" He actually slightly jumped at the unexpected sound of her voice. "Since they've called me Chef Schlatt." He was visibly less fidgety, and her eyes caught notice of the rectangular wrapped box now held in his hands.

Little known to her he had taken the time to in panic call Ted who had reassured him, reassurance he desperately needed. What sounded as a joke to her question of the one-eighty of his cooking skills was actually the truth. For the past four months he'd manage to secretly cram culinary lessons in preparation for tonight and hopefully the rest of their lives. "What's with the box?" To say she was relieved to see his noticeably less (albeit still) stressed out self was such an understatement; the box itself she could tell he wrapped from it's little imperfections, she loved it. "Well... You mentioned feeling underdressed." He didn't show it but some part of him felt wrong giving her the gift of the dress (if you're not comfortable with them feel free to imagine any other formal/fancy attire) he'd seen her eyeing for the past while. It was meant to be an engagement gift, not a method to save time since he hadn't even finished cooking or arranging the area. "I wanted to give this a bit later but while you change I can finish up setting up here. That alright with you, toots?"

An inquisitive smile as the gift changed hands, it only took a tear and removing the top of two cardboard pieces that made up the box. She audibly gasped, "you didn't." "I did." Seeing the absolute joy upon the features he adored so much made him want to buy another fifty of them. Her happiness and ease infected him, having her be much less suspicious also helped with his own anxiety. "So this is what you've been worried about? If I'd like it?" Giving him an out he mentally thanked her, "yeah, now you get dressed alright? I have to finish setting the table." She admired the silk that made up the intricate garment, "I really don't deserve you, huh?" The sudden phrase caught him off guard. "What? No, I don't deserve you darling. You do so much for me, let me spoil you tonight, alright?" He moved to the side so he could reach down to kiss her temple endearingly, his own heart warming at just the feel of her skin. She made a mental note to spoil him as best she could within the following days, unbeknownst of the greatest gift that could be given later on in the evening.

Changing, with him insisting to take her time for the sake of preparation, it ended up taking a lot longer than either expected. "Schlatt!" "Yes?!" "Can you come here and help me zip up the dress?!" "Coming!" And when he entered the room... My god, he was sure he walked into heaven with the goddess that stood before him. The subtle sparkle of the gown giving her an effect of wearing a blanket of stars. She had even done her going-out rituals of doin up herself and her hair since he put in such an effort to make tonight beyond their casual dates (to which she wasn't complaining, nor did she understand why). "Wow." Was all he breathed out, breathless, unable to stutter out anything else; he was completely smitten all over again. It made his mind quickly flash to what it'd be like seeing her in a wedding dress, seeing her walk down that isle to officially become his in the eyes of the law.

A sheepish smile graced her lips, his gaze filled with nothing but endearment and love made her flush under it. She could feel how much he loved her by that completely awed expression alone. "I should buy you this kind of shit more often." He chuckled, a more suave front coming into play whilst she turned around for him, having it clear as day to see the zip. One hand found itself at the swell of her hip to hold her still with a gentle grip, the other grabbing hold of the little thing and with ease zipped it up. She spun around to meet his eyes, "thanks." "Anything for my pretty girl."

One hand cupping hers, he lead her to their newly transformed kitchen and dining area; furniture pushed to the other end of the open space, leaving for a more isolated and professional feel. Windows cleaned without a single speck of dust left behind, and as if the skies themselves were in favour of this night with how clear the city sky seemed. Shimmering stars making themselves known, which in of itself was a surprise. "You think the city shut down for a day for the sake of seeing the sky tonight?" "I don't know what caused it, I'm just happy my prayers went to good use." She didn't get a chance to question him, as he pulled out her chair with a charming smile. "M'lady?" She took the seat with a silly grin after hearing his gags behind her, "remember to remind me never to say that again."

This was the Schlatt she knew, the one who was always so damn bubbly and managed to get the most genuine laughs out of her. And somehow he mixed together with this attempt to be charming, it was a sight to see surely, and as the night continues on she noticed this nervousness return to him. Dinner was a blast, roasted crispy skin salmon with a brown sugar citrus glaze, paired with his best attempt to make her favourite dessert from scratch. It only reminded her of how lucky she was, how this handsome, giant of a man who on the surface was jaded and immature could be so... Gentle. Immensely thoughtful and invested in her, with eyes for only her, just for her.

She didn't think she could get any luckier, how could she? But she could.

It took only a moment for her to trade her glance from him to their almost humorously large windows, that was his cue. "You wanna step out on the balcony to see better?" His heart pounded so hard in his chest everything was drowned out by blood pumping in his ears, he could barely hear her reply but when she took his hand and stood he presumed it to be a yes. Sliding glass doors open and stepping out to their closet sized balcony, it was large enough to hold a small table and bistro chairs but that had long been retired inside. He had just enough room to get on one knee, but he had to wait for the perfect moment.

They both leaned against the partial glass railing, his sights unable to look up at the thousands of falling rocks that made for a perfect backdrop for what happens next, his gaze only rested on the side profile of the woman that always harboured in his mind and heart. Her smile, plastered across her face, he wished that if he had to forget it all; he'd at least remember the serene bliss of seeing her happy, his woman. "Y/n?" "Mhm?" She replied, turning her head to his direction, the reflection of the scenic view before him reflected in her eyes. A hand found itself cupping her cheek, similarly to the morning he made up his mind, the morning he knew she would be his wife... Only if now she'd let him.

"Darling..." He let out in a soft sigh, pausing for just a minute before continuing. "...I don't even know what to say." He chuckled out, a small, genuine smile spread on plump lips. "I will never be able to fully express to you how much you mean to me, or just what you do to me." The pair slightly backed up from the railing, giving them the space to fully face each other, his other hand finding her other cheek as he moved in. "Schlatt," she grinned, a tinge of cardinal rouge blooming across her visage. "I'm telling the god honest truth when I say that I can't picture my life without you. You're it for me." He gently kissed her forehead, seeing her glowing at his words but still unsure of where this was going...

Until he backed up to bend down, and her eyes completely went wide. He could see her lips part in a slow inhale, starting as an 'o' shape before growing to an ear-to-ear grin that her hand shot up to cover. "Y/n L/n, the woman of my dreams, my pretty girl, my little dumbass..." This was the most confident he'd been all night, and seeing her so visibly happy made everything worth it. Every late night of preparation, ranting to friends and money spent; it was all worth it. "...would you..." Reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box, he flipped it open and presented it to her as she shrieked at the sight. The most breathtaking ring she'd ever seen, and knowing it was handpicked by Schlatt himself made it even more special. "...do me the honours of becoming my Mrs. Y/n Schlatt?"

She froze, before tears spilled as she nodded enthusiastically, unable to form the word 'yes' just from how overwhelmingly happy she was. The grin upon her now fiancé's lips grew tenfold, as he stood and took hold of her left hand to slip the ring upon her ring finger. She rubbed away the tears, steadying her breath as she calmed herself. "There would be nothing else in this world I'd ever want." He was quick to snake his arms around her waist, lips firmly planted upon hers for the first time as husband and wife to-be.

Once pulled away, only then had it hit her that all his stressing out and odd behaviour was because of her. "Oh my god, looking back I guess I was a little oblivious huh? I'm sorry I made you stress out so much." A lighthearted scoff escaped his throat, "you? I was stressing myself out sweetheart. It doesn't even matter anymore, you're worth all the stress in the world. I love you so damn much, Mrs. Schlatt."

[mylkys]

ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ʟɪᴇ

nanami kento x f!reader

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING. do not proceed if you’re not up-to-date in the manga.

a request from @daikon-dishes​. hope you all enjoy.

word count: 1,841

warnings: major spoilers for chapter 120. character death. angst.

Everything hurts.

Every part of his being ached and for release, and the only thing that could cross his mind was is this was she felt, in her last moments? Did it feel like her bones were seconds away from ripping out of her skin? Could she feel her heart pound uselessly in her chest?

An image of your smiling face came to his mind's eye. The sunlight filtered through the trees, the golden rays illuminating your shining eyes. The apples of your cheeks were sunkissed, and the gentle wind tousling your hair.

It was the day Nanami proposed to you. He could almost feel the weight of the ring box in his pocket, or how his heart was close to exploding in his chest as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Nanami didn't understand it, but he didn't mind. Your childishness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Nanami pulled the box from his pant pocket, and he could see you watch him with bated breath. You'd asked him what he was doing, but he simply answered by opening the box, revealing the ring. 

It was simple- a thin band with a single diamond- but it suited you. The simplistic design matched your simplistic beauty. Your eyes lit up as you slapped a hand over your mouth. You told Nanami that if it was a joke, it was a shitty one, to which he chuckled.

"Am I the type to pull pranks, dear?"

You cried as you lept onto him. Your arms held him in a chokehold as your bawled your eyes out, weeping a loud and shaky yes. Yes, I'll marry you.

Nanami guided you away from his chest and enveloped you in a kiss. But, he couldn't feel you. There was no pressure of your lips on his, no taste of your tongue. 

Nanami broke the kiss and looked at your face. He could see tears streaming from your crystal eyes, your kiss-swollen lips. You were beautiful.

Yet, it was... off. Unclear. Nanami could see you, but your face was lacking details. Like how one side of your smile was higher than the other, how one eyebrow was arched while the other was rounded. You were there but washed out. Your skin was off, your clothes were off, you were off. 

He was forgetting. 

Nanami couldn't remember the shape of your hands, the slope of your nose, the part of your hair. He remembered how you'd say your left side was your good side, and he remembered how he never understood. Now, he realized he couldn't, because he couldn't even remember what you looked like.

The scene changed, fading away to a dim phone screen. Nanami scrolled through the different necklaces, but none were catching his eye.

A hand clasped on his shoulder, and Nanami turned to see Gojo smiling at him. 

"Gift shopping for the missus?"

"Leave me alone."

Gojo pouted as he complained about Nanami being so mean to him. Nanami's chest ached when he noticed that Gojo's face was crisp, clear. How could he forget the face of the love of his life, but not his? Why would his mind let the details of you wash away, but let Gojo's remain?

Gojo bent over Nanami's shoulder and poked to the screen. "If I know Missus Nanami, which, I do, she'd like that one."

It was a thin silver chain, with a small starfish charm. It was simple, not too long or flashy. It reminded him of you.

Nanami remembered how you hated him calling you simple, how you would take it as an insult. You thought he was calling your ordinary or boring, but he disagreed. Though there was nothing wrong with extravagance, it was also complex and complicated. It took effort.

But with simplicity, the need for detail washes away. The additions and improvements are gone, and what's left bare is true and raw. Simplicity ignores the unneeded aspects, allowing one to just exist. That's how Nanami felt when he was with you.

Any time with you wrapped in his arms, all thoughts and worries of work and curses just... drifted away. In those moments, Nanami wasn't a sorcerer. 

He was a man in love. 

Nanami remembered Gojo's smug grin when he added the necklace to his chart, and he remembered ignoring it. When it came in, your face lit up like thousands of stars, and Nanami had to console you as you sobbed.

"It not even our anniversary!"

"It doesn't need to be a significant date for me to give you a gift."

Any time Gojo saw you wear the necklace- which was every time he saw you since you wore it every day- he would smirk knowingly at Nanami and would tease him about knowing his wife more than he did.

But that stopped after you died.

One thing that is guaranteed when you're a sorcerer, is dying with regrets. Nanami's was losing you.

By most standards, it had been a normal day. You had kissed him goodbye as he left for work, and he called you during his lunch break. If Nanami had known that would be the last time he spoke to you, he would have told you how much he loved you. 

But, it wasn't a normal day. When he came home, he could tell something was wrong. Your house was reeking of cursed energy, and he could see the residue of a curse creature trail to the front door. 

His heart pounded in his chest as dread bubbled in his stomach as he drew his weapon. He opened the front door, and the strong heady scent of blood overwhelmed him. 

Nanami screamed out your name, panic freezing his blood. He was frantic as he tore apart the house, looking for you. 

Maybe you fled, maybe you got away, he chanted in his head over, and over, and over again. You weren't a sorcerer- hell, you could barely even see curses- so there was no chance you could have defended yourself. Nanami prayed that your instincts protected you, got you away from the curse, got you safe.

His world crashed around him as he bolted into your shared bedroom. The smell of blood was strongest there, and when he pushed open the door, he almost gagged. The stench of blood and cursed energy was so thick, it made it hard to breathe, but what took his breath away was you.

You were lying upon the bed, curled up tightly on Nanami's side, your head buried deep in his pillow. The right side of your body was heavily mutilated, wounds and malformations bleeding profusely.

Nanami cried out your name as he ran to your side. He shook you violently, screaming at you to Wake up! Please, wake up!

He hated how stiff your bod- no, not your body- how still you were. How cold you were. 

Nanami could barely see through the tears, but he noticed how you had your hands cradled near your neck. He choked as he pried away your fingers to see what you were holding, and what little control he had left crashed when he saw that even in death, you protected the necklace he gave you. 

While the rest of your body was drenched with drying blood, your necklace had remained clean and beautiful.

Nanami looked to your face and saw the soft yet pained smile on your lips. He had pressed his mouth to yours and prayed he would feel your lips move against his, feel your hands cup his face as you deepened the kiss.

You never did.

Gojo found Nanami cradling you in his arms later that night. 

They held a funeral two days later. 

The casket was closed.

Gojo didn't joke about your necklace anymore.

A new memory, one with Itadori, came to mind. He had the necklace and a photo of you that he kept in his wallet.

"Who's that?" he had asked.

Nanami could feel his throat tighten. He had planned on scolding Itadori on snooping, but instead of doing so, he indulged him.

"That was my wife."

"Whoa! You're married? I didn't know you were married!"

"I'm not anymore."

Itadori paused. "Was? Did you get divorced?"

"No."

Itadori looked at Nanami, confused. "Then how...?"

Nanami felt tears burn his eyes, so he turned away. "She's," his throat closed a little as he choked back a sob, "she's no longer with us."

"Oh." Itadori wouldn't look at Nanami. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes as Nanami fought away his tears.

"What was she like?"

Nanami's eyes widened a bit, and he turned to Itadori.

"Kind. Gentle. Playful." He paused, trying to think of how to describe you. "Simple."

"She sounds like a good person," Itadori said. Nanami could see that he felt uncomfortable- not because he didn't like talking about you, but because he didn't know what to say.

"She was perfect," Nanami whispered to himself. Itadori heard him but didn't say anything.

Nanami turned to him once more. "She would have liked you."

Nanami could feel his body begin to fail him. He couldn't hear, and his sight was beginning to wither away. With what little will he had left, Nanami pulled his wallet from his pant pocket and took out the dainty necklace and photo. 

He could barely see your beautifully simple face or the shining necklace, but he could feel then. As his world faded to black, the last thing he wanted to see was you. 

Everything became dark as pain enveloped him, yet he clutched the necklace and photo tight. He refused to let go. 

It was hard to breathe, and Nanami began to panic. His chest ached for relief, for relaxation, and when that pain increased in intensity, he began to panic. Hot flames burned at his body, and if he could still hear, he would have heard his cries of pain.

It was unbearable now, and as Nanami walked the line of unconsciousness, he heard a small noise. It was far off, muffled, faint, he almost wasn't sure if he had heard anything at all when he heard it again, but loud this time. 

"Kento!" 

Nanami could hear it now, and the voice was so painstakingly familiar, he was confident he would recognize it anywhere.

It was you.

He tried to call out, but his voice wouldn't let him. The panic from the pain melted to the panic of you not finding him. 

"Ken!" you cried. Nanami was never fond of nicknames, but he adored anything you would call him. "Kentooooooo!"

A soft touch caressed his shoulder, and the pain washed away like the waves at sea. Nanami found himself able to move again, and he whipped around to see you standing behind him. 

You were dressed in the same sundress you wore when he proposed, ring on your finger. Around your throat was the dainty chain of your necklace.

Nanami whispered your name, to which you smiled.

"Hey, you," you giggled. 

"I missed you."

[johnismyreason]

I have a request for a oneshot! Meeting tom in a bar, chatting, flirting, ending up at his place and having $ex🔥

It always takes me so much time to write something I’m sorry... Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy :) 

warnings: smutt, alcohol (kinda), praise kink, no foreplay, dom-ish!tom, and obviously the usual bad English 

The longest day ever. Ugh.

It was one of those days where you just think I just should’ve stayed in bed. Your alarm clock didn’t ring. You cracked your favourite pair of jeans right before heading out, making you running late even more. Your boss gave you yet another assignment in addition of you hundred of other ones. Stacy, your favourite co-worker, wasn’t here because she was on vacation with her boyfrie- fiancé now, wow she just texted you a selfie with her ring, and you remain single. Someone spilled their coffee on your shirt and didn’t even apologise. And finally hen you thought nothing bad can happen anymore, the rain was pouring. Of course you didn’t take your umbrella or a coat with a hood. Thank you London shitty weather. And of course, a car splashed the only puddle of water all over you. You wanted to cry, scream and burn everything down. You lift your head and read in bright red lighting the holy word “PUB”. Hallelujah. You didn’t even think about it, you just walked in.

The place was almost empty, which didn’t bother you at all, since you had enough interactions with humans for the day, maybe even for the week.

You sat at the bar, your coat drenched, your hair sticking to your face, your make up was gone and your mascara left black ink under your eyes. You were sticky and looked gross, but you couldn’t care less anymore. After three minutes with your head between your hands and elbows on the counter, the bartender bring you a shot of vodka.

“Wait,” you called him, “I didn’t order yet”

“Yeah, well, the guy over there got this for you” he replied, pointing at a curly hair young man sat on the banquette behind you, who, with a tight smile, waved shyly at you with just two fingers.

You looked at him with your tired eyes. Shit, he’s cute. He must has a weird obsession for desperate girls. You take the small glass and poured it down your throat.

“Thank you,” you told him a little louder than expected but you didn’t bother pretending you were sorry for three other customers. The young man got up and walked towards you, his bottle of beer in his hand.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, seating on the stool next to yours. “You looked like you needed it” he chuckled.

“T’was that obvious ?”

He chuckled again before replying “a bit.” and you smiled lightly too. He didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just looking at you. “I’m Tom by the way” he introduced himself and extended his hand to you.

You looked at his hand, a little surprised by his traditional behaviour, but took it anyways “Y/N”

“Nice to meet you Y/N”. Another smile appeared on his thin lips . He was really cute. “So, what happened ? It seems like you had a rough day, don’t you ?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer. His jaw was sharp and his fingers were long and thin around the bottle.

“You wouldn’t want to know, it’s too long, and boring, and sad and... yeah, pathetic” you said, your head resting on your palm, staring at the counter.

“Well thank god we have all night, and you might think it’s an odd coincidence but, boring, sad and pathetic stories are my favourite.”

You thought about it. He’s a stranger in the creepiest pub in London, you don’t know nothing about him, and he doesn’t know nothing about you. You look a mess and weird, you’re drenched, why does he want to know about your day ?

“You like desperate girls, don’t you ?” you finally said.

“What ?” Tom replied, genuinely confused.

“Or maybe you’re the desperate one and is ready to pick the most rubbish looking girl, as long as you can have your release” you teased

“N-no, no ! I-I just... I saw you by the window getting splashed by the car, I felt so bad for you and I hoped you would come in so I can offer you a drink. I-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ll leave-”

“Wait !” you stopped him from getting out of his stool, placing your hand on his forearm. Now you felt bad. He’s the first and only person today who didn’t annoy you in any kind of way. “Please, stay. It’s been a long day. A very long day” you sighed. Tom sat back on his stool with a tight smile. He ordered two other beers for him and you.

“Wanna talk about it ?” he gently proposed. You nodded and started your narrative. You gave all the details, from the sound of your ripped jeans, the tone of the unkind comment your coworker spat after pouring his coffee on you, to the very beautiful diamond your friend got when she got proposed to what seemed the perfect guy. Tom listened to everything, and kept his focus on your eyes, sometimes your lips, but just for a second. You finished your story after what felt like 10 hours of speaking.

“Wow... that was... a fucking shitty day” he chuckled bringing you warmth to your heart.

You chuckled “I’ll drink to that,” taking your beer and clinked it with his. You sighed dramatically and turned to him.

“What about yours ?”

“Mine ?” he said after taking a sip. “Well, it was way less interesting than yours” he laughed. “Um... I woke up. Got to the grocery store, worked out, watched TV, worked and got to this bar. And now I’m talking to a very pretty girl.” you blushed, not expecting him to say that.

“I bet she smells like flowers” you roasted yourself.

“More like a wet dog but that’s light” Tom teased and you hit him lightly on his arm. You both laughed lightly.

“We’re closing,” the bartender cut you.

“It’s only 9 o’clock...” you responded, your eyebrows frowned.

“We’re closing,” he repeated.

You looked at Tom, rolling your eyes “It’s because of my bad luck, I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be. This gives me the opportunity to ask you if you want to come to me place, have another drink.” he asked shyly, putting the money on the counter.

You looked at him awkwardly stuffing his hand in his jean pockets, waiting for your response. He’s really cute. Fuck it, let’s go. You bit your lip into a smile and nodded a yes. His eyes widened.

“Really ? Great ! Um, let’s go then,” he let you walk first towards the door but opened it for you. He told that his appartement is just a few minutes walking from here.

You followed him in the almost empty streets, talking about everything and mostly about him. He was nice and funny and it felt like you knew him for years. He led you to his building and then apartment which was gigantic next to yours. He took your coat and offered you to dry your hair  with his hairdryer while he sets everything to eat. You agreed and followed him in his bathroom. You came back in the kitchen where Tom was preparing dinner. There was a central counter illuminated by three industrial-style lamps. Tom had a folded tea towel on his shoulder and seemed very concentrated on cooking his dish.

“Pasta alla tomato,” he announced with a proud smile and his fingers pinched together, noticing you coming back from the bathroom.

“I’m not quite sure, that’s how Italians call it” you laughed standing next to him.

“Who cares ? It’s gonna be delicious,” he smirked. “Wanna taste ?” he asked with a low voice, his spoon ready to make you taste the tomato sauce. You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. You parted your lips and leaned towards him, welcoming the spoon in your mouth. You moaned at the taste and watched his pupils dilate for a split second.

“It is delicious,” you confirmed licking your lips. Tom watched your tongue dancing on your mouth and felt his heart beating fast. Suddenly, it was too hot in the room.

“We um... we should take some plates,” he tried to resonate him. He moved around you to grab two plates, forks and knives and placed it on the counter, in front of the chairs.

You kept talking about life and laughed at the strangest stories you two lived. You were having the best time. Tom was nice, funny and it felt like you knew each others for years. Everything since the bar was simple and comfortable. Also, he was really cute. You couldn’t take off your eyes of him. You admired the stain of curls falling on his forehead, and how his biceps contrat when he runs his hand through his hair to replace it. The little wrinkles around his eyes when he was smiling and the joyful burst of his voice as he laughs.

You also noticed a small stain of tomato sauce on his jaw, and without thinking about it, cutting Tom in his sentence, you swiped your thumb over it and brung it to your lips. Before you could reach your mouth, Tom stopped you, interlacing your hand with his fingers, pulling it to his face. He plunged his gaze into yours and wrapped his lips around your thumb. He licked softly your digit without breaking the eye contact. You stopped breathing, your heart pounding in your ears.

“That was mine,” he almost groaned. He then kissed delicately your other fingers while you starred at his lips and his face. He sometimes made eye contact with, making you loose your mind, before closing his eyes refocusing your fingers. He pulled gently on your wrist close to make you lean towards him. Your faces are a few inches away and the tension is so thick, the space between you is barely breathable.

“Y/N,” Tom whispered “please let me kiss you” he tilted his head waiting for your answer. Your breath was jerky, your pupils dilated and all your senses in turmoil. You leaned a little more, closing your eyes and nodded slowly.

Tom placed his other free hand on your cheek and closed the space between you. His lips were warm and rough at the same time, but his kisses were soft and caring. He wanted to make you feel good. The leaned position wasn’t the most comfortable though. So without breaking the kiss, Tom guided you up and sat you on his lap.

“Hm, much better” he said between kisses. You giggled and ran your hands through his soft curls. Tom navigated his lips down your neck and sucked on your hot skin. You tilted your head back giving him all the space he needed. Tom then traced his way down to your chest, his hands running up and down your back, waist and hips. You gently pulled on his curls to bring back his lips on your mouth, both whining and moaning.

“Tom, I need more... so much more” you desperately moaned out of breath. He didn’t say anything. He just got up, holding you around his chest and walked to his bedroom. After letting you falling gracefully on his bed he got up and took off his tight t-shirt. You discovered his muscular features, making you want to touch it.

“Give me your hands,” he nicely ordered. And you obeyed. He placed your palms on his pecs and slowly ran them all over his upper body. Your eyes stared frantically every inch of his skin, in awe of his features. Tom looked at your face with a slight smirk, admiring you.

“You like what see ?” that was so cocky yet so hot. You would gave laughed if it was anyone else, but there was something about him that was so hypnotising.

“I really do,” you whispered, still caressing him.

“Y/N, can I take off your clothes” he gently demanded, lingering his long fingers on your arms.

“Please,” you whimpered. Tom took the time to kiss you before pulling up your almost tired t-shirt and bra.

“Gorgeous,” he groaned and ran his warm hand on your breast. You moaned his name when you felt his lips around your nipples. “you’re so beautiful Y/N”. He pushed you against the mattress, stil sucking on your buds. He slid his hands down your body to take off your panties. “Can I take these off ?”

“Yes, you can” you answered desperately. He wasted no time and admired your glistening core.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you” Tom got up and grabbed a condom in his bathroom. When he came back he stumbled while taking off his boxers, making you giggle at his eagerness. He almost jumped on the bed and placed the condom on his very hard cock. You looked at him with wanting eyes, licking your lips.

“Do I need to work you out a little ?”

“No, no, don’t worry about that, you’ve done enough” you giggled and he responded the same way. “Please, I just need you...” you whimpered. Tom leaned on you to kiss you, and ever so smoothly entered you. You both moaned loudly.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel amazing” he stayed immobile for a little while so you can accommodate to him, until you moved your hips. He got the message and started thrusting gently but deeply.

Tom never stoped kissing you. On your lips, your cheeks, your neck... every bit on your skin that was reachable was showered by his lips. It was like a drug to him. You couldn’t get your hands off of his body, running them on his back, abs, chest and hair tugging a little on his curls. And each time your did that, he groaned and moaned. He made the prettiest sounds and you were loving it. Tom sped up his movements, holding close to him.

“Tom... umm you feel so good ! Gosh, please don’t stop”, you praised him and deepened his thrusts. They were more calculated, more passionate. Seeing him responding to your praises this way, made you want even more from him, so you continued.

“Um, yes just like that, oh fuck ! Tom, fuck you feel amazing !” he became animalistic in his thrusts and you felt your orgasm getting closer.

“You like this cock pretty girl ? um ?” he groaned in your ear “do you feel how perfect it is for you ? how it makes you loose yourself ? I feel you clenching baby...” his thrusts sped up even harder wanting you to release your pleasure “cum for me Y/N, I’m right behind you. God, fuck- your pussy feels so good, so tight !”

Your nails scratched his back, searching for something to hold onto, you arched your spine and let your orgasm took over you. Tom thrusted a few more times before he cums in you, moans and groans filling the air. He relaxed his body on top of yours, both you regaining your breath. Who knew, after spending the worst day ever, you would end up in a stranger’s bed. Tom eventually rolled on the side, giggling.

“What’s so funny ?” you asked a bit embarrassed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he reassured you, kissing you softly, “it was just... mind-blowing.” You felt your cheeks heat up against his palm.

“I know,” your confirmed. “Thank you for brighting up my day” you joked.

“Anytime, love !” Tom smiled before hesitantly asking you “actually, I was thinking, maybe we could go on a date, or something... I spent a really good time with you. I’m not only talking about the sex, huh, it was an amazing evening.”

You bit your lips and kissed him delicately “I would love that. I had a great time too”

[willowbird]

Second ask, can I also ask for andriel proposing (not sure who proposes but plsss)

You bet you can lovie 🔪🧡🦊

-----

The woman on the other side of the counter wouldn't stop smiling at him. Usually, when Andrew glared back at unwelcome overtures of friendliness, all smiles dropped and people did better about leaving him the fuck alone. This particular saleswoman was eerily unaffected.

"We just got a new collection in that we haven't had a chance to set up in display case if nothing here has caught your eye," she suggested now, gesturing toward what Andrew assumed was the back room with an even bigger smile on her face. "You seem like a discerning man. Nothing but the best for your special someone, am I right?"

She wasn't wrong, but Andrew was not about to tell her that. The last thing he needed was for her to start cooing or something. This was why he shouldn't have waited for the last minute to do this and should have just ordered the damn thing online.

A part of him was tempted to wait on it just so that he wouldn't have to go through the pain of ring shopping in person, but the only reason he'd waited so damn long was because he kept second-guessing himself when he knew better. He'd first thought of it almost a year ago now when Neil had first signed on with the San Diego Wolverines, putting him on the opposite end of the country. It had been a gut impulse. He'd wanted Neil to have something not just of his but of them. He'd instantly shut down the embarrassingly romantic thought and hadn't allowed himself to think of it again until a few months later when he finally got to see Neil in person for the first time since the week before summer training.

Well, until Neil had to leave after a too-short visit just before summer training. Then it had been all he could think about for weeks. Every Skype call, every text, every glimpse of Neil playing on the tv.

It had even gotten to the point where he had even fucking brought the idea up to Aaron. Yes, Aaron. He'd called him while watching the playback of one of Neil's games just after the little idiot had antagonized both on-court backliners of the opposite team into going after him. He'd ended slammed against the wall then the floor multiple times, but his partner striker had also managed to get three goals while the backliners were distracted. Neil had limped off the court but not before flipping off the other team and the cameras. Once he was led back to the benches, Andrew got to watch as Neil pulled out his phone - likely to type out the text that had been waiting for Andrew when he'd finished up his own game.

It isn't bad. I'll ice it tonight. Promise.

Because Neil knew that Andrew watched at least the highlights of all his games. He knew that Andrew would see the brutal takedown. Would see him hobble off the court. Exy was a violent sport and mild injuries were common enough - but he knew that him goading and then being taken down by two backliners each double his size would worry Andrew. So the first thing he'd done, before even attempting to insist he wasn't too hurt to finish the game, was text him.

Watching Neil get fussed over by the team's medic, Andrew had dialed his brother.

'I think I want to marry him,' he'd said without a greeting.

'No shit, sherlock. About fucking time,' had been his brother's response.

That had been a couple months ago. And he'd put it off. He'd tried not to think about it. Tried to talk himself out of it.

And in the end, here he was, standing in front of a display case of wedding bands and engagement rings at an airport jewelry store while the saleslady smiled at him like he'd just told her he was going to name his firstborn after her.

Andrew checked his watch and sighed, then nodded at her, making a ‘get on with it’ gesture with one hand. He didn’t have long before his flight would be boarding and nothing in front of him was jumping out as being particularly exceptional. He knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers, him having left this to the last minute as he had, but he may as well see all the available options. 

The woman beamed at him in a way that was quickly getting on his nerves, then quickly scurried off. She returned after only a minute or so, carrying a moderately sized black case. “I’ve got to say, this is probably the most stunning collection we’ve had in. I saw it in the catalog and hoped it would be sent to our store, too.” There were maybe twenty rings in total, and he had to admit -- they were more elegant than most of the others on display. Simple with just small details in etching, stone lay, or shaping to set them apart from each other. There was also a variety of metal colors, from yellow gold to rose to platinum and a darker metal Andrew didn’t know enough about jewelry to name. 

Andrew considered all of them carefully, dismissing the flashier styles and the cumbersome solitaires. He had done a little bit of browsing online in between those flashes of panic uncertainty, and he knew Neil. His partner’s taste wasn’t really a factor, as he didn’t exactly have any (his interest in Andrew being the general exception), but his lifestyle was. With that in mind, Andrew said without looking up, “I will also need a matching chain.”

“A chain?”

Andrew ignored her for the time being as he ran his thumb over a dark-metaled band with a single thread of rose gold running through the center. He plucked it out and took a closer look, imagining it on Neil’s hand and diligently blocking out the rush in his chest at the visualization. Right now was the time for a practical mind. He did not have the time to wallow in any emotional repercussions to making this purchase. 

“This one,” he finally said to the saleswoman, showing her the ring and quoting Neil’s size. “And the chain as well.”

“Oh, of course! Excellent choice. I’m sure your sweetheart will love it.”

Andrew grimaced. “Trust me, he is anything but a sweetheart.” If it surprised the woman at all that he was shopping engagement rings for another man she didn’t show it. She only continued to beam at him, chuckling like he’d made some joke instead of a blatant truth. 

Ten minutes later he had a little black velvet box tucked into his pocket as he made his way back to where most of his team was milling about. Static whirred in the overhead and then a smooth female voice announced it was time to board.

"Flight 87 to San Diego is now boarding in Gate G9." 

For once Andrew wasn’t sure if the swooping in his stomach had to do with the upcoming flight or the weight of a future sitting in his pocket.

-----

Andrew had begrudgingly accepted that he enjoyed playing exy now that he was on a professional level and things were more interesting. He liked working together with his defensive line and the other goalie to form themselves into an impenetrable unit, and he even got along with most of his team. Or, at least, he and most of his team had an understanding.

It was an understanding that allowed them to be at the top of the league and give Andrew the space he needed to not feel smothered. They worked together as a team, and Andrew was always invited to their bonding nights. No one pressured him to actually show and when he did decide to participate no one made a big deal of it. He was permitted to interact on his own terms.

It was a good setup, and so he'd already told his team that he wouldn't be there tonight for whatever after-game dinner they had planned. They also knew that he would be returning to Pennsylvania separately, and only two people were stupid enough to ask about why more than once.

The game went about as expected -- in that Neil’s team lost spectacularly but not without putting up a fight. Even though they lost, Andrew could see Neil brimming with bright, furious energy in the last quarter of the game. He was having the fucking time of his life, and every single time he attacked the goal Andrew caught glimpses of his savage grin.

In the end, it wasn't enough, but Neil was still wearing that smile when they all lined up at center court for handshakes. If Andrew held a bit longer and tighter to Neil's hand when it was their turn, no one seemed to notice.

"You were incredible tonight," Neil said to him once all was said and done - the press handled and both teams showered and dismissed. They were walking across the stadium parking lot to where Andrew's rental was parked. Neil exclusively relied on his bike or public transport and Andrew had not been willing to put up with that bullshit while he was in town.

Andrew snorted. "If you ask me to wear my goalie mask during sex I am going to call it quits, junkie. Contain yourself."

"Wait, is that an option?" Neil stopped walking completely and turned sharply toward him, eyes wide.

Unamused, Andrew shot him a look and kept walking without bothering to dignify that bit of stupidity with a comment.

Neil didn't lag behind for long, laughing brightly as he jogged to catch up. "Joking!" he assured as they reached the car. "Of course I'm joking. The mask would get in the way and, if I'm being completely honest - which I try to do these days - I like being able to see your face."

There was once a time when Andrew would have pointedly kept his gaze turned away so he couldn't see the look he knew was on Neil's face at that moment. Or he would have shoved Neil away, nailed him with a scathing remark, distracted him somehow. It hadn't even been all that long ago, not really. He'd been afraid of what that look meant, cautious of the sentiment it implied, panicked at the threat of what might happen if he let Neil in.

Tonight Andrew did not look away. Instead, he turned his head and basked in the light of Neil's eyes like a cat in the sunlight. He met his gaze and soaked him up, let himself settle into that warmth. If Neil was surprised by Andrew's tolerance it didn't show. He just tilted his head and smiled until Andrew finally lifted a hand and shoved his arm just enough to get him moving.

"Get in the car, you maniac. Let's get back to your place."

Neil chuckled but relented without comment and got into the passenger seat. Andrew hadn't even gotten the car started when he felt Neil's gaze on him again, warm and enveloping like hot chocolate in the bitter winter. Again, Andrew turned to look at him. Again, he basked - just a little.

This time, Neil's expression shifted just slightly, the edges of pain tightening around his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Neil's hands curl into fists on his lap.

"I missed you," Neil said quietly, and his voice was tighter than it has been a minute ago. There was a hoarseness of emotion to it that rang in tune with the hollow place in Andrew's own chest.

A hard swallow, then Andrew lifted a hand and cupped Neil's cheek. He brushed his thumb over the scars there, tracing them. He didn't say that he'd missed Neil, too. He didn't say that each day waking up without him near was like waking up without a leg, leaving him aching and frustrated as he had to relearn how to move and function when a vital part of him was too far away to touch. He didn't say... Well, he didn't say anything at all.

Instead, he leaned his forehead against Neil's and took a slow breath in. He waited until he felt Neil do the same, and then they exhaled together, mingling their breaths as proof of their proximity. He felt the warmth of it on his cheeks and another loose and rattling piece inside his chest settled into place. He kissed Neil once, just briefly, on the lips, and then dropped his hand and pulled away to start the car.

-----

Neil's apartment was only a short drive away from the stadium, but traffic dragged it out unnecessarily. They had ordered food ahead of time and swung by the restaurant on the way to pick it up, which added another ten minutes to the drive but it was better than waiting on a delivery. 

Even with the detour for food and the press of traffic slowing them down, the drive itself didn’t actually feel long. Neil carried the conversation, picking up from their last phone call as he talked about his teammates and the strange little hole-in-the-wall diner he’d been frequenting lately or the stupid pictures an overly enthusiastic Matt Boyd had sent him from the pro backliner’s recent trip to the zoo. (“Twelve, Andrew. He sent me twelve pictures of what I’m pretty sure were all of the same ostrich. Ostriches aren’t even that interesting.”)

They split up briefly as they got to Neil’s apartment, Andrew to drop his things off in the bedroom and Neil to unpack the food onto actual plates. Andrew hesitated for only a moment as he parked his suitcase, then crouched before it and unzipped the pocket where he’d stowed the ring. He had no big plan for this. There were no flash mobs waiting around the corner, no puppies with cute ribbon collars, no scheduled flyovers that would drag a banner or write a message in the sky. Andrew didn’t do grand gestures. He did not buy into commercialized love. He also was very aware of who his partner was and knew very well that Neil was the same in that regards. 

Neither of them needed that, wanted it, or - frankly - even understood it.

But Andrew knew that he did want Neil in his life. He knew that he wanted him as his partner. He knew that he wanted him as his husband. It wasn’t something that he and Neil had every really talked about and there was a very real chance that Neil would say no - not because he didn’t want to be with Andrew, because Andrew knew that he did, but because Neil already had an impression of what marriage looked like and it was not a good one. Perhaps if they were different people, with a different sort of relationship, that would have made Andrew table the idea altogether.

But they weren’t other people, and their relationship was theirs and theirs alone. They were Andrew and Neil, not anyone else, and even if he knew nothing else, Andrew knew that even if Neil did not want to marry him, his asking wasn’t going to hurt them.

So he didn’t have any big plans. He hadn’t hired singers or put together a collage of their relationship. He didn’t invite their friends and family or light candles or spread out flower petals. He didn’t even get down on one knee.

Instead, Andrew took that little box in his hand and walked out of the bedroom and directly to the living room where Neil had set their dinner on two tv trays in front of the couch as he fiddled with remote to put on one of their favorite seasons of Hell’s Kitchen. Neil smiled over at him when he heard him coming. 

“Hey, perfect timing. Did you want to start right at the beginning or skip to episode two since we watched the first episode last week? I kinda want to start right at the beginning.”

Andrew shrugged, which Neil took as agreement and turned back to the tv to select the first episode. 

“Pause it for a moment,” Andrew said as he sank onto the couch beside Neil, though he kept his gaze on the frozen flames on the screen even as Neil turned to fully face him. He always did that - always gave Andrew his full and undivided attention even when he had no idea what Andrew wanted to say. For Neil, it was always just enough that Andrew wanted to say anything at all. 

A hiccup of nerves spasmed suddenly and uncomfortably in his chest, but Andrew batted it away. All he was doing was asking a question. Just one more to the hundreds of thousands that he had already asked over the last several years. This question was no different. It meant nothing more and nothing less than any of those other questions. 

So Andrew asked it the same way. 

He turned and met Neil’s eyes, then revealed the box without any particular flourish or grandeur. He watched as confusion smoothed to surprise then understanding as Andrew opened the box to show the ring inside. 

Then he said, “Yes, or no?”

He had meant for the words to be casual and even, but they came out softer than he intended. The hand that held the box was shaking, too - which Andrew only noticed when both of Neil’s hands cupped under it. 

Neil looked from the ring up to Andrew’s face and, like he always seemed to be able to, read more there than anyone ever could. Those blue eyes warmed to summer, his smile turning soft and filled with a sentiment that did not, could not, have a description in any of the languages that Andrew knew. Andrew didn’t know what Neil saw when he looked at him like that. He had never asked and probably never would. He wasn’t sure he was ready to know, wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. 

“Andrew,” Neil said, his voice just as quiet, and Andrew realized he was holding his breath. “You know it’s always yes with you.”

Something terrifyingly wonderful seized Andrew’s chest and squeezed. It dried out his throat and beat heavy drums in the center of his chest. It took too much effort for Andrew to nod his acknowledgement, and his hand was still shaking as he plucked the ring from the box and revealed that it was on a chain. “So you can keep it with you,” he said in explanation, his voice coming out a bit too hoarse. 

“I want to wear it now.” Neil’s voice wobbled. He laughed as they both tried and failed to unlatch the clasp several times before getting it - both of them with hands too shaky to get it on the first try. 

Then Neil was wearing it, and he was smiling, and there was this glow in Andrew’s chest that he didn’t think would ever really fade. 

[hoebii]

Like me better

Pairing : Park Jimin x Reader

Genre : Fluff, Highschool!Au, e2l, rivals

Rating : PG13

Warning : ‘Curse’ words are mentioned (is ‘shit’ even a curse word fhgjv), OC wanting to choke Jimin and not in the kinky way, brief mention of Jimin being a playboy thot, hating on mint chocolate because it’s the worst flavour to exist you can fight me on this

Wc : 4k

A/N : Alright, this was originally supposed to be a birthday drabble but it got a little out of hand as you can see. We had a whole lot planned for this fic but it got too long oops- so we decided to cut it short and keep the ending open huhu. Happiest birthday to our precious maknae @heejinnien​ from @xiaokoo​ (who also made this AMAZING banner btw) and I. Hope you like your present baby! We love you so so so much~<3 Also this isn’t as edited as I’d like it to be but I got impatient okay don’t @ me :<

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

The bustling crowd of students bumped into you repeatedly as you weaved through them to get to class. You kept a strong grip on your books so as to not drop them. People squeezed passed as you tried not to trip and fall flat on your face. You had slept through your alarms and were currently rushing to your class, cursing at yourself for this blunder in your head. 

“Sorry, excuse me, oh shit!” You catch yourself as you tumbled to the ground. Your books splay across the floor as you winced at the sore feeling. Hopefully, no one would step on you or your books - you had paid good money for them!-. As for tripping over, you looked over your shoulder, glaring when you caught sight of a group of boys laughing. 

“Aw is little princess hurt?~” You heard one of them call out, the others snickering in the background. You ignored them and started gathering all your books, telling yourself they weren’t worth the trouble. You were almost done picking up all the books on the ground when one was suddenly snatched from your grasp. Looking up at the culprit you see Park Jimin, the bane of your existence, holding it up.

“Are you sure you even need books?” He snickers, flicking through it. “You’re not even smart, why bother studying if it doesn’t do you any good?” 

You feel your blood boil. How dare he?! You were smarter than him in every possible way. He had no right to mock you, sure he was smart but you always placed second. If there was one thing you hated, it was being second best to Park Jimin. 

“You’ll just come second like always.” 

That comment hit you hard. You tried to keep your cool, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Sure, Jimin was annoying but there was no way you were going to create a scene because of it. Not again. Instead, you rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him and walked away. There would be no reason to argue with a dumbass. Why waste your time?

Jimin watched as you walked away. He smirked to himself. Despite acting calm, he’d known you long enough to know that you were fuming inside. There were buttons he knew how to push to get the reaction he wanted and he thoroughly enjoyed provoking you. 

--------

You stumbled into the classroom, panting from the light jog. “Damn I need to get back in shape, Jesus Christ.” you whispered to yourself. 

“Miss Y/L/N, care to explain why you’re five minutes late to the class?” Your professor’s voice boomed in the small classroom. You look at him, giving him a sheepish smile as you rub your neck. 

“I… got lost…?” 

What was that?! You wanted to smack yourself at your own words. So much for your perfect attendance. 

“You got lost?”

“Y...es…”

Your professor took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Just, just go to your seat.”

You scurried to your seat, setting down your books and sitting down. You heard snickering from beside you and you turned your head slightly towards the sound to see none other than Park Jimin laughing at you. Feeling your face flush in embarrassment, you turned towards your professor and started jotting down notes. You were not going to get riled up by Jimin during a class. 

-----------

It’s official. Life hates you. You must have been some sort of a witch in your last life who thrived by torturing others. That had to be it. Why else would you ever get partnered with Park freaking Jimin for your science project?! Apparently, the professor had said it was because you two were ‘top students that will compliment each other well’. But you’re certain it was actually because she hated you and you must have tortured her or something in your past life and this was her way of getting revenge. You’re pretty sure you came up with at least 7 ways to end Park Jimin in the time he took to move his seat closer to you for ‘discussing details about the project.’ 

“So you’re gonna draw the diagram and write everything,” Jimin started as soon as he sat down. He dumped his bags to one corner taking out the necessities. “I will be supervising you as I’m clearly the better one here.”

Oh how much you craved to just lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck and choke him. How can a person be this insufferable? You could just shove a damn pen up his- 

“Alright class dismissed! Remember, the deadline is on Monday next week! Have a nice weekend.” Your professor announced, snapping you out of your thoughts.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, don’t screw up the project.” 

With that Jimin left you sitting there fuming at him. You let out a tired sigh and begin packing up to leave too, mind running wild. Why couldn’t Jimin just be a good person for once?

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

The weekend seemed to go by in a flash, just you working on the project with Jimin, who had surprisingly been quite helpful. Just when you thought he had a heart, he had said it was ‘so you don’t ruin my grades.’ Yeah nevermind he still sucks.

What you didn’t know was Jimin being nice - well as nice as a jerk can get anyway - was because he had a bet to win. One of the boys had proposed a bet after class when he caught Jimin bickering with you yet again. The bet was simple really, ask you out and date you for a while before leaving you. Jimin had refused at first but then everyone started taunting him. Who liked getting mocked? No one. It was plain simple anyways, no one would actually get hurt, wasn’t like you liked him. So he accepted.

It wasn’t easy to catch your attention, given the fact the both of you were mortal enemies, it was near impossible. He did everything in his power so you would look at him but all tactics had somehow managed to flop. There was only one other way of actually getting you to notice him and that was annoying you. However, that would ruin the whole point of the bet. 

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.” Jimin chanted as he poked you on the cheek incessantly. “Y/n pay attention to meeee.” He continued to whine. 

You felt your right eye twitch. Why was this dumbass bothering you?! There was no reason for him to even be five feet close to you. 

“What is it Jimin?” You turn to him, a sickly sweet smile on your face. “What is so important that you’re trying to talk to me?”

Jimin grinned, his eyes turning into crescents as he poked his cheek and gave a wink. “Hi~ How are you doing?”  

Is he for real right now? Did he think he was cute? You felt like throwing up. “Park what are you up to? You never act,” you started, eyes squinting in suspicion, “like whatever you’re doing right now.” 

Jimin gasped and placed a hand on his chest as if in pain before exclaiming, “What?! Me? Up to something? Impossible, I’m as innocent as an angel.” 

An angel? More like a devil. There was no way he was telling the truth. You’d known him long enough and not once in your life had he treated you with such...whatever that emotion was.

“Right. An angel. Okay.” You nodded.

“Do you not believe me? You can ask anyone on this campus and they would tell you how amazing I am.” He gestured his hands wildly. 

You scoffed at that, of course they would, he had slept with the majority and had the remaining wrapped around his tiny fingers. Plus, no one wanted to cross Park Jimin. He ruled the campus and everyone knew it. 

“Listen, just get to the point. I don’t have time for this nonsense.” You said, rolling your eyes and huffing. You had to get to your next class in about five minutes. There was no way you were going to be late because some idiot was bothering you. 

“Go on a date with me.”

You choked on air at that, did you hear that right? “E-excuse me what?!”

Jimin shrugged and crossed his hands, flexing slightly, “You heard me, go on a date with me this weekend. Heard there's a new ice cream shop here, we could go there.” 

“You want to take me on a date?” You look at him skeptically. Was this a test? Were you being filmed? “You’re joking.”

“No.” He fixed you with a stare. “I’m serious. One date, if you don’t enjoy that one date, I promise I won't bother you ever again.”

You stood there staring at him, alarm bells ringing in your head. This can’t be real. He’s lying. “You? Never bothering me ever again? That’s like saying you don’t sleep with everyone you meet.”

“I didn’t sleep with you.”

“That’s different!” You exclaimed, face flushing. “You hate me!”

Jimin tilted his head, his nose scrunching up. “I never said I hate you.” You open your mouth ready to retaliate. “You simply assumed I did, my actions don’t mean anything unless I say something.”

You stood speechless. There had to be one occasion where he had stated he hated you. One. You searched your brain. Sure enough there was no such memory. 

Not wanting to lose to Jimin nonetheless you stomped your feet and said, “Yeah well that makes no sense! Haven’t you heard ‘actions speak louder than words’? I thought you were smart” You tsked, shaking your head as if you were disappointed.

“But I’m standing here asking you out, I’m sure that counters all the things I’ve done to you.” He gives you a sly smirk, one you’re all too familiar with. “There’s really two options Y/n. One’s yes and the other is...yes. Which one do you choose?”

If you could you would have burned him to a crisp with your glare. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been gifted with laser vision like superman. It would have been quite a gift if you had. Imagine how peaceful life would be without Park Jimin judging your every move. Then again, you would miss him. Wait what?! You shook your head to clear your mind before looking at Jimin.

“No.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he spluttered. “W-what do you mean no?!”

“N-O. No. Don’t tell me you forgot basic english.”

Jimin clicked his tongue in annoyance, glaring at you. No one had ever turned him down. Whatever Park Jimin wants he gets. Right now he wants you. 

“Why not?” 

You gave him a look. “Well, it isn’t exactly a secret that you sleep with anything that has two legs. I don't even know why you’re asking me out, you never go on dates.”

“That's because you’re different.”

You scoff. “Listen Park, this isn’t some shitty rom com that you can charm your way to my heart, this is reality and I’m smart enough to realise how much of a jerk you actually are.”

Words seemed to die in Jimin’s throat. A jerk?! Sure, he annoyed you but he didn't think he deserved the title of a jerk. If it wasn’t for that stupid bet he wouldn’t even be asking you out. There was no reason why you couldn’t go on just one date with him. It wasn’t as if he was asking you to juggle swords and then swallow them. Besides, Jimin was a very attractive person and he knew it too. What’s so bad about going out with him? You should feel blessed he was even asking you out in the first place!

“Just say yes already woman. One date won’t kill you,” Jimin groaned out, throwing his head back in frustration.

“One date with you will.”

You stared at each other, no one making a single move. The silence stretched on for a moment before Jimin sighed loudly and ran a hand through this hair. 

“Come on!”

“No”

“...Please?” Jimin couldn’t believe he had to beg. He never begs! The things he does for a stupid bet.

Rolling your eyes at Jimin, you sigh, “Fine. We can go there this Saturday.”

“I begged, why won’t you just accep--” Jimin started before cutting himself off, “Oh you said yes. Um, well, yeah ok.” He mumbled, trying to fix his composure. “Yeah see you there or something. Bye,” and with that he walked away, leaving you both amused and confused… and also late for class! Damn Park Jimin.

-----------

You stood in front of the ice cream shop waiting for Jimin to show up. He was late, but then again what were you expecting anyway? You rolled your eyes as you looked around, “If he doesn’t show up in the next minute, I’m leaving.” you mumbled to yourself, checking your watch for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

“Y/n!” A voice shouted from behind causing you to turn around. Jimin ran towards you, panting slightly. “Sorry, I had to run all the way here.”

“Did you forget about the date or were you just being a jerk and were late intentionally?”

His face flushed pink, avoiding your gaze. “I might have forgotten but that wasn’t completely my fault, I just lost track of time.”

“Yeah whatever.” 

Jimin went to hold open the door for you but you beat him to it, opening it for yourself and slamming it in his face. He held back the urge to leave right there. A bet needed to be completed. He followed you inside trying to strike a conversation with you, trying to get just a crack of a smile.

“So Y/n, how’s your day?” Jimin asked, giving you a sweet smile that would have anyone swooning but it had no effect on you. 

“It would be good if the one who asked me out on a date came on time.” You didn’t look at him, instead you were staring intently at the menu. 

Jimin bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he would regret, giving you a tight lipped smile. “I’m sure your date regrets being late.” ‘And asking you out in the first place’ Jimin thought the last part but didn’t say out loud.

“Doubt it.” You shrugged. 

Jimin knew what you were doing. You were specifically trying to provoke him, there was no way that he would ask you out on a date voluntarily. You were trying to gouge out any secrets he was hiding. His job, obviously, was to try and not let you find out those secrets. There was no way you were going to cooperate if he told you about the bet. 

The two of you knew each other since you were both babies, your mothers knew each other and would always coo at ‘how cute these two will look together.’ Unfortunately for them though, since you were both young the two of you had some sort of competition going on. Didn't matter if it was who was smarter, who was faster or who could fit the most grapes in their mouth, the both of you were always competing. 

As you both grew older the bickering turned into bullying on his part. In truth, you actually didn't know what started this long feud, all you remembered was one day when you were five an annoying boy yanked your hair so hard that a few strands had come out. Annoying boy turned out to be Park Jimin and the two of you haven’t stopped arguing since. 

“What flavour are you getting?” Jimin peered over your shoulder. He looked at you expectedly. “I’ve already chosen mine, so it’s just up to you and I’ll pay.” He holds his wallet out. 

“Vanilla.” You said plainly.

“What?!” 

You turn to face Jimin, frowning. “What’s wrong with vanilla?”

He makes a face. “Y/n, it’s so boring, like you no doubt.” The last part had slipped out accidentally and he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth. That was it. You were going to scream at him and he would lose the bet.

Instead, you ignored his comment fixing your gaze back onto the menu. “What do you think I should get then? I’ll give you the choice, assuming you don’t pick a disgusting flavour like mint chocolate chip, I’ll be fine.” 

Sure, it was a stupid decision giving Jimin the power to pick what you were going to eat, but what could go wrong? Worst case scenario, you didn't like the flavour and he would be forced to go get a new one, which would cost him more money. It’s a win win. 

“You’re giving me the freedom to pick what flavour you’re having?” Jimin asked, making sure he didn't misunderstand your statement. You simply nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Yep” you replied when he stared at you for a while longer, popping the p.

Jimin smirked. “I’ll get you the best flavour to ever exist then.”

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, “Oh?”

“Yeah, mint chocolate~” 

You stared at him in disgust, scowling as you said, “Dude I just said that flavour is disgusting. Made by the devil himself.”

Jimin tapped his chin, as if he had no clue about you were saying, “Did you really? Can’t recall anything like that. Hmm.”

“Park Jimin, I swear to god if you get me that flavour I will rip your eyeballs out and shove them up your ass.”

“So you wanna touch my ass now?” He grinned smugly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you spluttered, desperately searching for a comeback.

“Just- just get me whatever you’re having. Unless it’s chocolate mint, then get out of my sight right now.” 

“Don't worry, I hate the flavour as much as you do. So, two birthday cakes coming right up.” You try to find ‘birthday cake’ on the menu. 

“Dude, the thing looks like a unicorn just threw up on it.” 

Jimin shoots you a glare. “Don’t disrespect the superior flavour bestowed upon us by the ice cream Gods.” You gape at him open-mouthed. Ice cream Gods?! The guy was insane. You were on a date with a guy who was insane. Rest in pepperoni to you.

“You’re insane,” You shake your head. “I’ll be waiting over there. Be quick.” You point to a table in the corner. 

“Yes ma’am” Jimin saluted before going to order at the counter. You shake your head. You’d known Jimin of most of your life and he’d always been silly and annoying. 

Some reason you knew a lot about him. You blamed it on your parents making you spend too much time with each other when you were younger. Also you needed to know every little thing about your mortal enemy, wasn’t that what mortal enemies did? You had to be prepared for anything and keep track of them at all times!

“Got your ice cream.” Jimin placed the cup in front of you as you stared at it with distaste. You’d never really had ice cream often but when you did you always went for the plain vanilla. It was simple, no need for toppings or colourful flavours. You weren’t one to take risks. 

“What monstrosity did you get for me, Park?” 

“Oh stop being a baby, it’s just strawberry with some syrup on it.” Jimin answered while he rolled his eyes, lips tugged up into a small smile. Eyes twinkling with adoration as he looked at you. 

“I’m not eating it.”

“Oh yes you are. Here comes the airplane!” Jimin started, taking a spoonful of the ice cream and moving it towards your face as if talking to a child. 

“I’m not a kid. I’m not ha-” Jimin shoves the spoon inside your mouth when you open it to retaliate, his lips lifted into a sly smile. You snatch the spoon off him while glaring at him and start feeding yourself. “Don’t patronise me, you jerk.” You grumbled.

Jimin almost cooed out loud at your pout but he barely controlled himself. Since when were you this cute? He watched as you ate.

“Is it good?” 

“...yes” You reluctantly answered, still pouting.

Jimin smiled, leaning back on his chair as he pat himself on his shoulder. “Another job done well by yours truly.”

You rolled your eyes. Then you noticed that Jimin’s ice cream looked slightly different to yours. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for a bite. Would it?

“What’s on yours?” Jimin looked up, the tiny spoon still in his mouth. “What’s on your ice cream?”

“Just extra sprinkles and chocolate sauce, nothing too special.” He shrugged, continuing to devour his dessert. You stare at your cup and then at his. Something must have been possessing you because before you knew it you were leaning over and digging your spoon into his cup.

“Hey, you can’t just do that!”

“Pretty sure I just did.” You popped the spoon into your mouth, savouring the taste. “You know you really weren’t kidding when you said this was good. For once, you did something right, congrats dude.” 

Jimin would have made a snarky comment but the look of pure ecstasy on your face stopped him. Even though he knew you for most of his life, there were parts you kept hidden. He knew you didn’t get out much, constantly studying was the only thing you seemed to do. A nice feeling bubbled inside of him. It was nice to know you were enjoying yourself, made him feel happy for some reason. 

You giggled, shoving more of the sweet dessert into your mouth. Too busy to notice that Jimin was staring at you. When you did, you gave him a look of confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“You got a little something here.” He pointed to the left side of his face, holding in the urge to laugh at your cute expression. “No here, no.” He leaned over brushing his thumb over the corner of your lips. He stared at you, had your eyes always been so pretty? You felt yourself grow red at the close proximity between you two, not knowing what to do. Jimin leaned away, - why did your heart sink at that? - and licked his thumb. “Love this flavour.”

You avert your eyes quickly, blush getting brighter. You should not have found that as hot as you did. Get yourself together Y/N! Park Jimin, enemy number one! Nothing he does is mildly attractive. Nothing. He is the devil reincarnated!

Suddenly your phone started ringing, shattering whatever moment you two had going on. You picked up the device and checked the caller ID. Why was Jungkook calling now? You gave Jimin a sheepish look.

“Hello? I’m out. No. What? How did you- Alright alright.” Jimin watched as you spoke on your phone. 

You sighed in annoyance, hanging up after a while and giving Jimin a sheepish smile, “I need to go. Jungkook somehow made the microwave catch on fire.” 

Jimin raised his eyebrows in shock, looking at you as if you had grown two more heads. “What? How is that even possible?”

“Not a clue but I gotta dip. Thank you for inviting me here today. I still think you’re up to something though but whatever.” You spoke, getting up from your seat and grabbing your small messenger bag that you brought along. 

Jimin stood up alongside you, the both of you walking out of the shop and stopping on the sidewalk. “Yeah… Thank you for coming here with me.”

You two stood there staring at each other, not wanting to leave just yet. 

“Well then! I’ll see you on Monday. Bye Jimin,” You announced after a while, quickly pressing a small kiss on his cheek before dashing away. 

Jimin stood there in shock, hands raising to touch where you kissed him. Why was his heart racing so fast and why did he feel so warm inside? 

“Huh.. maybe you’re not so bad Y/L/N” Jimin spoke up to himself before he too started his walk back home, mind filled with thoughts of you.

[elencelebrindal]

How went the proposal between Shun and Hyoga in your AU? Who proposed to who and how?

Oh my god, this has been sitting in my askbox for so long, IM SO SORRY anon.

I completely overlooked it, I'm SORRY.

(Also, I'm really sorry for disappearing so suddenly, but I found myself drowning in work for uni and I honestly chose to use my lack of enough free time to write some stuff. I'm back on track for this week, though)

The proposal... I actually cannot wrap my head around one single version of it. And the problem, now, is that I actually forgot which version I chose to be the main one. I know it seems ridiculous, but thanks to other interests sparking up I completely lost track of many details I've been working into my "canon" AU. It's actually been a whole year since I decided who proposed to who and how it happened, and I don't have the time to check my 50 chapters of stuff to find that little detail (university is still devastating me).

I probably even wrote something about it in this blog, as I accidentally throw my stuff everywhere here, but... eh. Time. Lack of it, actually.

So, let's do the next best thing.

Which is write down what is now one of my favorite versions of the proposal, because in this year I mulled over a lot of scenes, and I kept coming up with more stuff every time. I'll try to either update this post or make another one once I have enough time to go through 50+ chapters and 70k+ pages of notes and stories.

For now, here is what I've been thinking about the past months.

The one who proposed was Hyoga. He actually just barely beat Shun on time, because while Hyoga bought him a really nice ring, which is nothing encrusted with diamonds but just a really simple white gold ring with their initials carved on the inside (I personally hate diamond rings or overly expensive ones, so this is a biased choice), Shun was thinking about doing the same. Basically, if Hyoga waited one or two more days, they would have proposed at the same time. But I'm babbling nonsense now. Hyoga brought him on a date in Germany, in the city where Hades' Castle is located (I don't remember if the city is named or not, forget me). The reason being: he wanted Shun to stop thinking about that place as something woeful and filled with pain and regrets, following what happened in the Holy War. He brought him there, they have a really nice day walking around, sightseeing, and being romantic dorks in love for the entire time. After making him happy, Hyoga brought him to the nicest restaurant he could find (not the most expensive or the most luxurious, just the nicest one that they would both appreciate), treated him to an amazing dinner, and surprised him with the proposal. Shun, of course, accepted almost immediately. The almost being, he was so stunned at Hyoga proposing to him with a ring hidden right at the center of a rose that had been on their table for the whole entire night. A surprise hidden in plain sight. I like the idea of hidden rings, but I despise those "ring in a champagne glass" or "ring in a dessert/food in general" because choking is a real thing and please let's avoid accidentally killing the vessel of Hades himself. So Hyoga did the next best thing, and hid the ring in plain sight because he knew Shun would definitely catch a whiff of something if he kept it on himself. He also didn't want to give the ring to any of the staff members, as it was too important for him.

Now, I'll add this: they discussed marriage long before. I don't like public proposals if marriage hasn't been discussed yet, because anything could go horribly wrong. It could feel forced on the one getting proposed to, and it could end in disaster if a rejection happens. The reason why everything goes so smoothly and perfectly is exactly the fact that they discussed it, and the surprise is not only well-received, but also expected and unexpected at the same time.

In conclusion, though, this is not my original plan for them. Again, I actually forgot what that plan is, and I need to check my unholy amount of written material to figure out what I ended up choosing for my "canon" AU.

Again, I'm really sorry I kept you waiting for so long, but at this point I think we all agree I can be an absolute idiot at times.

[anythingbutmar]

Mistake

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: After you turned 18, Diego and you pretty much distanced from the other members of the academy, so when you all meet for Reginald’s funeral you have some explaining to do.

A/N: I kinda love this concept but I changed a few details of this request so the reader is not raised as a sibling and her relationship with the others is in no way familial. I missed writing, specially for Diego, so thanks anon! This is quite long too, so sorry about that. I had a lot of fun too, so let me know if you’d like me to make this into a series, cause I might do it.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of homelessness, but overall just fluff and a bit of angst.

You liked to say that the life you made by yourself happened because of a simple mistake, because you had come across the Umbrella Academy on a very particular way.

You could say you had a decent upbringing, your mother wasn’t abusive but she was pretty much the definition of overprotective, and as a child you were never told that it was because a man had literally tried to buy you on the day you were born, in fact, you didn’t know anything about him or the children he managed to adopt because your mother and grandparents wouldn’t let you get anywhere near any piece of information of whatever existed outside your little hometown.

They told you they were doing it because your father had left you when you were just a baby and they wanted to protect you from the dangers of foreign men, of course you thought that you were born from a normal pregnancy, and you believed everything, that and the fact that you could control any element to your will, which they said was wrong and kept hidden. You were homeschooled, and you could only socialize with the kids from your neighborhood which was good, but it wasn’t enough, and we all now overprotectiveness can really mess with someone’s mind.

And so, even though you went along with it for many years, when one of your only friends suggested you both snuck out for a party on the big city for your sixteenth birthday you couldn’t say no, and that was the mistake, if it is possible to call it like that.

On the best Rapunzel style you went out your bedroom window, got on a bus and drank so much alcohol you completely passed out on a strangers lap and woke up on an unknown bed with a beautiful woman smiling down at you. Well, maybe that wasn’t Rapunzel’s style, but it sure felt like it at first.

The next series of events happened so fast it almost felt like a dream. You met a handful of strange children, one of which you later remembered had brought you there while being just as drunk as you were, his name was Klaus, and he later became the best friend you ever had; then you had the most overwhelming conversation of your life, in which an incredibly mean old man explained how you were actually born and made you understand just how different and important you were, but not in the wholesome way.

About an hour later your mother stormed through the academy looking for you, but one of the girls whispered something in her ear on her dad’s command which changed your mom’s entire attitude, with her allowing you to stay as if it was a boarding school, or so she told you, but she only visited once every few months and she didn’t seem as caring as before. According to Allison, that was in no way her fault, and you believed her, because at the end of the day you trusted your newfound friends much more than the woman that lied to you your entire life.

And so, you learnt to control your ability like never before, while also enduring Reginald’s cruel treatment, but it didn’t matter at all, because in the midst of everything you found Diego, and with him came all the things you never experienced before. He brought you happiness, love, trust and overall, lust for life.

Two years later you were living your best teenage secret romance. You snuck out at nights to visit all the parts from the city that he wanted you to meet, and you shared tiny kisses whenever Reginald and the kids weren’t watching. But Diego left, just like he had planned since he was a kid, and you weren’t brave enough to follow him. It wasn’t until his other siblings started leaving too that you realized that no matter how hard it was to be outside on your own, holding on to life with him was better than anything else. It was actually thanks to Allison, the smart girl had noticed you two holding hands under the table and knew just how heartbroken you were without him. “Chase him, Y/N, you won’t have this opportunity ever again.” She said right before she left, and she was absolutely right.

It took you less than a week to find him on a motel, bruised as ever and with barely enough money to pay for another night, and in between hugs, kisses and forbidden touches you promised him that you’d both get out of there. He told you he had been on that place for three weeks and a half, but the first few days after leaving the academy he had to sleep on a park bench until he gathered enough money by playing with his knifes to amuse people on the street. It had been hard, but now that you were together everything was so much better.

After many years living in the back room of a rusty gym, both of you taking turns in wiping it’s floors while also trying to study and save people at nights, because the one thing you learned from Reginald was that you loved helping people, and Diego’s vigilantism was just as appealing to you as it was to him. Diego was accepted into the police force and you finished your studies on a cheap school, which allowed you both to get a job you liked, and when you were finally able to buy a house for yourselves Diego proposed.

“Y/N, before you arrived my life was a nightmare, and all I ever wanted was to stay as far away from that place as it was possible, and everything that reminded me of it I planned on cutting from my life, but you arrived with your sweet smile, your shy eyes and those damn legs, and you completely switched my view of the world because I knew right there that I would love you forever, and I do. I love to see you in your weird ass robe, making potions-”

“I’m a chemist babe, not a witch.” You corrected him laughing.

“Let me finish Y/N!” He laughed with you. “I love how you treated me and my siblings, and I love how you helped mom, and god! I love how you used to beat bad guys with fucking wind on our nights out! I love everything about you sweetheart, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” By then you were both crying, and of course you said yes, how could you not?

Cut to ten years later and the day you had silently both dreaded and hoped for came. Reginald Hargreeves was dead, and you couldn’t even tell if you were sad about it, after all, the man had saved you from Mother Gothel, as Diego and you started calling her after watching Tangled with your daughters, but he saved you at what cost? You now had quite a few burn scars in your body from his dangerous training, you loved each one of them because they reminded you just how powerful you were, but still, no teenager should have to go through that.

And you couldn’t even get started on Diego. You wondered how and when he would take the news. He was out on his monthly vigilante night, which was kind of a gift you gave to each other, you were allowed to leave for the night once every month on different days because now that you had kids you could no longer risk your life everyday like you used to before. The kids, oh boy, what were you gonna do with your beloved girls? You weren’t sure if taking them to the funeral with you was the right decision, you wanted to shelter them from death and all the evil things in the world, but then again, you weren’t your mother, and you had no one to leave them with.

Just as you were thinking about maybe even staying, your husband entered your home, and he looked destroyed. It was one in the morning and you had been waiting for him while thinking of Reginald, and clearly he had been thinking about the same thing. You quickly stood up and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“He’s d-dead.” He stuttered on your shoulder. He didn’t even sound sad, he just seemed shocked.

“Shh, I know baby, I know.” You stood there for a while, just comforting each other in the middle of your kitchen before going to bed, you needed to rest for the next day because you knew it would be anything but ordinary.

And in the blink of an eye you were ringing the bell of the academy, each of your girls holding their father’s hand, the three of them standing behind you in your small, useless effort to protect them.

Grace opened up, and you couldn’t be happier to see her. You gave her a small hug and then gave Diego some space so he could properly say hi to his beloved mother. He introduced Luna and Amber and she was delighted to see Diego in a stable, loving family, she just seemed a bit off, but you’d talk to Diego about that later.

And then... Lord help you, you entered the livingroom and ran headfirst into Klaus who instantly hugged you, twirling you around and making you laugh as you both landed on the floor.

“Y/N, love! How have you been?” He sat up, looking at the doorframe, as he seemed to notice the two pair of eyes that stared in curiosity. “Oh I see you’ve gotten busy! Hello my little munchkins, I’m your uncle Klaus!”

“Wait Y/N/N, you’re with Diego now?” Luther asked from the other side of the room. Despite his rivalry with your now husband, you were quite close to him during your small time on the academy.

“Honestly Luther, I love you, but you can be quite oblivious sometimes.” You stood up with his help and hugged him tightly, getting a comforting feeling from his embrace.

“I’m here too, you know, your brother, Diego?” He finally entered, still holding your daughters’s hands and analizing the scene.

“It’s not our fault that you can’t say hi to anybody.” Allison came from behind him, scaring him, which made the girls laughing.

“Hi Allison.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes at his sister.

“I always knew you liked keeping your secrets but this two are way too big to hide” Se kneeled down to pinch Luna’s cheek, who smiled bashfully at her aunt.

Amber, your youngest, ran towards you and pulled your hand. You kneeled to her height as she whispered in your ear. “Mommy, I want to meet uncle Spaceboy.” You smiled softly at her sweetness, carrying her towards him. She instantly jumped in his arms, which took both Luther and you by surprise, she wasn’t the most sociable girl after all, but you kinda understood, his big frame and natural akwardness made him look quite huggable.

“Damn bro, you’ve gotten big.” Diego joined you, leaving Allison to play with Luna, who was now excited to know that she had a cousin her age, and you left before the two started bickering, but much to your surprise, the presence of your daughter seemed to retain them from fighting like they used to. Maybe bringing them was a good idea after all.

“Well, this is is quite the frame” Pogo entered the room with Vanya right behind him. You all waved at them, tired already of all the hugs already.

“Hi everyone.” Vanya entered uncomfortably, allowing Allison to hug her and having a small talk.

You turned to Diego and looked at him, a warning in your eyes. You knew your husband all to well, and you could see how much the book had hurted him, but you weren’t going to let him start a fight in the middle of a family meeting.

But of course, he wouldn’t listen to you.

“Why did you do it?” He started walking towards her as you mentally facepalmed. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Really, Diego? This isn’t the right time.” Allison scolded him, standing between him and her only sister.

“Then when is it, Allison? The next time we see each other? Should we wait another twelve years?” Allison just scoffed and stormed out of the room, Luther following after her, Vanya left silently, looking hurt, and Klaus snuck out in the heat of the moment, probably looking for money.

You sat on the biggest couch in the middle of your daughters, surrounding them with your arms. “That went well.” You stared at Diego, who pocked his tongue at you.

And it was about to get worse.

After having a tiny dance party, thanks to Luther’s incredibly loud turntable, you heard a thunderlike sound and watched as a bright blue light appeared outside. You looked at Diego, knowing what to do from all the years of practice that you had together. Each of you grabbed one of the kids, running outside to meet the others, who surrounded you in a protective manner, protecting their newly met nieces.

There was a portal in front of you, which Klaus tried to close with a fire extinguisher, but you could tell it wouldn’t work, because that wasn’t made of fire, or any other element that you were familiar with, for that matter, and you were an element bending chemist, for christ’s sake.

“What the hell is that babe?” Diego yelled, trying to understand.

“I have no idea, but there’s something coming out of it!” You yelled back, and everyone turned to look at what appeared to be an old man coming out of the portal. And in a flash of blue, a small boy landed at your feet, he looked incredibly similar to the portrait of the lost sibling that hung on top of the fireplace.

“Does anyone else see little number five?” They all nodded at Klaus, who clearly wasn’t sober enough for this, or maybe the poor thing thought that was the ghost of him, and you knew he already had enough with one dead brother following him around.

“What on earth is wrong with this family?” You said, looking at the odd teenager.

                                                             --

Minutes passed as you all stared at Five, who was preparing a goddamned sandwich, in the middle of one of the most confusing moments of your life.

“You’re new.” He simply stated, looking at you.

“Umm yeah, we haven’t had the chance to meet before, I’m Y/N.” You extended your hand, which he didn’t take, the tiny bastard.

“Oh we’ve met. You were the one with the girls, holding his hand.” He pointed at Diego, sandwich in hand.

“I don’t understand, you weren-”

“Look kid, I’m sorry, but I can’t trust you, you need to leave.” Diego was ready to jump at him, but Luther stopped him and you grabbed his arm softly.

“It’s ok honey, I get it.” You whispered and left to look for Grace who was taking care of the girls.

You let out a sigh as you walked by your old room. You had been wanting to scream ever since you got there, but this was your first alone moment in the whole day, and a sigh was just as effective as a scream, it helped.

                                                            --

Then came the funeral, and it was hard. Luther scattered the ashes and you manipulated the wind so they wouldn’t look like a pile of grey shit, which actually, was an accurate depiction of Reginald, but you did it for him and Pogo, it was the right thing to do.

And after a few out of place comments, Diego and Luther started fighting right in front of your daughters, so much for the agreement. Luna and Amber started crying, hiding behind Five, who, much to your surprise, covered them with his body as he slowly took them inside. It was infuriating to see the men fighting in front of you, but you couldn’t help but smile looking at Five.

It was that moment that truly made you feel home, like you really were in family, and it warmed your heart.

-End of maybe part one?-

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Promise Rings

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Nicole Blake

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Nicole has a surprise for Mycroft

A/N: Two Mycroft fics in one day??? I had to write this, I love the idea so much. Once again a big thank you to @thatghoulboi for helping me with the idea!

Climbing up the steps of 221B, Nicole held the small Tupperware container of oatmeal raisin cookies tightly in her hands. It was customary at this point that every time she arrived at the flat she would bring some type of baked good. John enjoyed it, he actually had something to eat because of that. The fridge only ever seemed to be in use for Sherlock’s experiments. Speaking of the detective…

“Hey boys,” Nicole greeted when she reached their flat. Before John could greet her, she handed him the container of cookies.

His eyes lit up a little. “Ooh, biscuits. Thank you, Nicole,” he told her as he took them into the kitchen.

She shook her head and laughed at his reaction before looking at Sherlock who was on his laptop. “I need a favor from you. So I–”

“You’re going to propose to Mycroft,” Sherlock practically announced.

Her face grew bright red as her hand reached into her coat pocket. “What? No! I’m not proposing.” She gripped the ring box in her pocket.

“Good, neither of you are ready for it anyway,” Sherlock told her.

“Excuse me?” Nicole snapped. She shook her head. “I’m going to forget you said that.” Pulling out the ring box, she stepped over to the desk and opened it. Inside were two different sized gold rings, one intended for her and the other for Mycroft. “I’m not proposing, I’m–”

“Are those rings?” John asked, walking out of the kitchen with a cookie in each hand.

“Yes,” Nicole huffed in frustration, eyes trained on Sherlock. “These are promise rings. I need to hide these in your flat.”

“Why here?” Sherlock asked, finally looking over. He silently accepted the cookie offered by John.

“Because Mycroft knows me too well and he’ll know if I’ve hidden something in the house. It’ll ruin the surprise! I know he won’t look for it but what if he finds them like he did his birthday gift?” Nicole explained.

“Hiding it under the bed was dreadfully obvious though. It’s an easy to find hiding spot, so simple even Mycroft could find it. Which he did.” Sherlock took a bite of the cookie.

Nicole glared at him before closing the ring box. “I’m not asking you to keep them forever. Just until I can figure out the perfect way to give them to him. Please, guys?”

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” John told her. He held out his hand and she placed the ring box in his palm. “I can hide them after you leave so you don’t have to worry about knowing where they are.”

“I’d appreciate that so much!” Nicole grinned, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Thanks John!”

“What do the engravings say?” Sherlock asked her, attention back on his computer.

“It’s–it’s just our initials.” She replied. She hated when he deduced stuff in front of her. She’d never get used to it.

Sherlock hummed at the answer. “Figures. You’re sentimental like that.” He popped the last bite of the cookie in his mouth.

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Just please don’t tell Mycroft about the rings.” She headed for the stairs before calling over her shoulder. “Oh, and next time I’ll bring a variety of cookies!”

“Oh, yes please,” John smiled as she disappeared down the stairs.

It was a month before Nicole knew how she wanted to surprise Mycroft. In that time it was obvious her mind was preoccupied, that she was stressed over something. Mycroft wasn’t sure what, and any time he asked her about the strange behavior she’d brush it off, saying she was just trying to meet her deadline. That wasn’t a complete lie, she did have a deadline coming up. But it wasn’t the cause of her stress.

It was late at night, well past midnight, when Nicole realized what she was going to do to surprise him. Mycroft had been asleep in bed beside her, and carefully without waking him, she pulled her phone from the drawer of her bedside table and unlocked it. She immediately texted Sherlock, letting him know that she was stopping by the flat to pick up the rings as soon as Mycroft left for work in the morning. She also informed Sherlock that she might need his help keeping Mycroft occupied. Nicole didn’t wait for a response as she set the phone back in the drawer and closed it before settling down to go to sleep.

When the morning came, the routine went as usual. Well, almost.

Mycroft had been surprised when Nicole jumped into the shower along with him, typically she didn’t shower until mid-day if she had nowhere to go, or in the afternoon after dinner. A morning shower was odd. But she claimed to want to get it out of the way and that she was going to the store after he left for work—ingredients for a new dish she wanted to try out.

After the shower was breakfast. Now that went by normally. When breakfast was finished and it was nearing 7am, Nicole gave Mycroft a kiss goodbye and watched him leave for work. She waited 10 minutes before calling a taxi and heading to Bakerstreet.

Arriving at 221B, Nicole asked John for the ring box. He happily left to grab it from his bedroom while Nicole focused her attention on Sherlock.

“I’m going to need your help,” she explained, sitting in John’s chair across from Sherlock. “I need you to keep Mycroft busy this afternoon.”

“For how long?” Sherlock asked.

“Until I’m ready with the surprise. I’ll text you and let you know. Just do anything to keep him from coming home.” She said as John walked back into the room. He handed her the ring box as she stood, and Nicole placed it in her pocket. Thanking John, she looked back at Sherlock. “For once, I’m asking you to be his annoying little brother who knows how to inconvenience him.”

A smirk came over Sherlock when she said that. “Oh this will be fun.”

After getting everything she needed at the store, Nicole came home and hid the ring box in a kitchen drawer for safe keeping. Then her plan began.

First was the cake. It was just a plain yellow cake, but icing it was going to take longer than she wanted so she started with the cake. By the time the cake was finished, it was close to 10am. She set it on the counter island to cool before looking up the recipe she had selected for dinner. She studied it over lunch, taking in every last detail so it would be perfect. When she finished lunch, she took the icing and iced the cake. It was simple, chocolate icing between the 3 layers and vanilla icing on top. It took a while, but once the cake was fully iced Nicole put it in the fridge. When she noticed the time was just past 5pm, she texted Sherlock to start distracting Mycroft. She wasn’t sure how well it would work, but she knew Sherlock wouldn’t leave his brother alone so easily.

Making dinner was the difficult part in Nicole’s opinion. It seemed simple on paper but she was nervous about messing it up. It was shrimp pasta with sun-dried tomatoes and a cream sauce. Hardly simple in practice, but she persevered through it. Her hair had been tied back in a short ponytail and she practically danced through the kitchen grabbing ingredients or utensils needed. When she knew she could be ready before Mycroft would get home, she texted Sherlock and let him know his job was over. That was a little after 6pm.

Rushing upstairs to get changed, Nicole wondered how badly Sherlock annoyed Mycroft. She hoped he wasn’t in too bad of a mood. Once changed into the green dress she wore on their first date, the dress she knew Mycroft loved to see her wear, she rushed back down to the kitchen. She plated the meals, even setting out a basket of bread rolls she had made the day prior. She poured two glasses of water for them both, and Nicole knew where Mycroft kept the bottle of wine for special occasions. She didn’t drink, but she got out a wine glass and poured him some. Once the table was set, she rushed to the hallway and waited near the front door for Mycroft to come home.

She didn’t have to wait too long, however, as within a few minutes she heard the door unlock and watched silently as he entered the house.

“I’m sorry for being late, dear. I had to deal with my brother—he took my bloody phone,” Mycroft rambled as he pulled off his coat and set down his umbrella. When he finally looked at her, he was surprised to see her dressed up.

She smiled softly at him. “I hope Sherlock didn’t bother you too much. I just needed him to distract you until I was ready.”

Mycroft furrowed his brows as she walked towards him. “Ready for what?”

Nicole stopped in front of him and took his hand in hers, leading him to the dining room. Teasingly she replied, “I thought you knew everything, darling. You haven’t deduced it yet?”

He hummed in thought. “You have news.”

She lifted his hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “That comes after dinner.”

“Later then,” he nodded.

Leading him to the dining room, Mycroft was surprised and delighted to see the dinner on the table. She pressed another kiss to his hand before they took their seats. Dinner went by slowly, but neither minded. It was nice to be in each other’s presence, discussing how their days went. A comforting silence fell over the couple, and when the meals were finished Nicole could feel the knot in her stomach. She took the empty plates to the kitchen, pushing Mycroft gently back into his seat when he insisted on helping.

“I have something for you,” she told him, her voice a little shaky with nerves.

He sat patiently and waited for her to come back. Nicole put the plates in the sink before getting the ring box from the drawer and heading back to the dining room. She took her seat once again and slowly set the ring box down on the table. Carefully she opened it to reveal the rings.

Nervously she cleared her throat. “I wanted something to show our commitment to each other.” She watched Mycroft’s face for a reaction, her leg anxiously bouncing under the table.

He raised a brow. “Promise rings?”

The indifference in his voice made her even more nervous. She jumped into a rambling explanation behind her decision.

“I thought they would be nice to have since we’re sort of in that in-between stage of the relationship where we’ve been together for a while and are obviously committed, but not ready for marriage yet. So I just thought they would be a nice way of showing our dedication to the relationship and each other. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, or if you think it’s silly we can forget the whole thing entirely.”

He took her hand gently and smiled softly. “Nicole, this is a lovely, thoughtful gesture, and I will gladly wear it.”

She squeezed his hand for a moment before pulling away to take out the ring intended for him. “Which hand do you want it on? Do you want me to put it on you or is that too sappy?”

Mycroft shook his head and held out his left hand for her. She gently slipped the ring onto his ring finger before giving him her left hand and allowing him to do the same. Once the ring was on, he squeezed her hand gently. Nicole squeezed back, a loving grin on her face.

“I love you, Mycroft.”

He pulled her in gently and kissed her. “I love you too.”

After a moment of sitting there, something dawned on her. “What if people mistake these for wedding rings?” She asked.

“Then let them,” he replied.

Nicole gave him a shy smile and kissed him softly. “Do you want some dessert?”

Mycroft hummed against her lips. “I wouldn’t mind some.”

“I’ll go get a slice of cake then, darling,” she told him as she stood. Pressing a kiss to his temple, she left to get a slice of cake for them to share.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Cedric x Reader- Your Not Friend

Do you mind writing another Cedric fic? Where him and the reader always hangout at night (swimming in the black lake, stargazing, sneakily baking etc.) it's just a lot of that main character feeling lol thank u!!

Cedric’s eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, lightning bugs buzzing around you as the warm summer air kept you from retiring even as the moon climbed the sky. He reclined against the tree you met at nearly every night and looked up to the stars.

You were far more focused on the cut of his jaw, the curve of his lips. You had always found Cedric attractive, you found a lot of people attractive, but never before had you been so content to take in every detail of someone’s features. You felt tongue tied whenever he smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat any time he was feeling cheeky and decided to destroy you with a wink. 

It felt like just yesterday when Cedric had found you in the library, cheeks pink and trying to catch his breath. He’d just run from his previous class to find you and he was hoping to not be late for the next. You had been surprised to see him but hed just faced you, palms pressed together and a pleading look in his eyes.

“I really need a study buddy,” He’d declared and you had immediately said yes.

It hadn’t been as simple as you’d hoped it would be however. Every time you’d gone to Cedric after that you were always given an apologetic smile and a squeeze on the shoulder. Between other classes and quidditch, Cedric had very little time for studying. 

You’d been laying awake late and you’d suddenly gotten an idea. You knew he tried to catch up on homework due the next day and stayed up late. The next morning you proposed nightly study sessions. You’d been meeting by the lake ever since. 

Your study dates had quickly turned to the only time Cedric could mess around. He’d arrived one night declaring his homework was all done. You’d looked through the answers and he’d jumped in the black lake to do some laps. You’d laughed when he’d bobbed back up to the surface, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes clinging to him. 

“Join me” Cedric had laughed from the depths, the sky reflected perfectly on the water’s surface.

You’d told him no, that you wouldn’t be. Five minutes later he was picking you up and carrying you- his papers left by the tree. 

It was rare now for him to come to you with homework but it had become unsaid that this was more than studying together. It was time spent in good company and it was relaxing. He got to vent, and you got to know him better. Winter had been terribly lonely but he had found ways to sneak you out of your house, taking you to the kitchens so your nights didn’t have to end. Which reminded you-

“What are we going to do?” You asked as you rested your head on the Hufflepuff’s shoulder. 

“Hm?” Cedric hummed, his hand nudging against the side of yours as he moved it on the grass. Your skin came alive and you had to stop yourself from taking hold of his hand. You still feared that he would pull away. You usually left the first moves to him.

“The school year is ending,” You pointed out, hoping he would understand that you weren’t sure how to go all those months without seeing him. You weren’t sure he felt the same, you weren’t even sure he would want to do this when the next school year came, but you wanted him to know you’d miss it.

“Three weeks left,” He pointed out, hand nudging accidentally against yours again. Your entire arm tensed for a moment as you reminded yourself you couldn’t just grab his hand. 

“Won’t you miss-” Your mouth went dry and your palms grew sweaty. “-school.” 

Cedric smiled. It was small, just the corner of his lip pulling up as he listened to you. You couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked even as you asked about something that made you feel the opposite way. Your nights with Cedric were your stress relief. What were you to do in the summer?

“I’ll miss a lot of things, a lot of people,” Cedric shrugged, shifting so that he could face you, hand staying near yours. His pinky finger had moved, now overlapping yours. Did he notice? 

“Like who?” You breathed out softly. Please say me. 

Cedric watched you with knowing eyes and you felt your cheeks heating up. “We’ll still be friends even after the summer, Y/N,” 

“Promise?” You squeaked out, eyes dodging his as he hit the nail on the head. 

His pinky finger curled around yours and your eyes were drawn to your intertwined fingers. “Promise,” He beamed. 

You released his pinky but didn’t let his hand go far as you intertwined your fingers with his, the warmth of his palm nice and reassuring against yours. “And if I don’t want to be friends?” 

The words didn’t seem to alarm Cedric and you were grateful. You know he could see right through you and you thought it might have been the reason he’d always been there to make you laugh when you were having a hard day and grading his paper seemed impossible. He was there to toss you in the black lake and then let you lay on his chest an hour later to watch the stars while you dried off. 

And now he was here to hold your hand when you were putting your heart on the line. 

He was also there to push you a bit further than you thought you could go, a teasing smile playing at his lips as he asked, “Then who would you come here with?” 

You could sense his questions was teasing but as you looked in is eyes you realized the depths of his words. The unsaid: who else would you want to be here? ringing in your ears. You knew he wanted you to come clean but you were having fun playing.

“You know Harry Potter, yeah? I’ve never had the chance to speak with him, I think I’d invite him,” 

Cedric laughed softly. “You’d bring a kid to replace me?” 

I could never replace you, you know that. 

“We are kids, Ced,” 

“Yeah but he’s- well he’s-” Cedric was at a loss for words. Instead he settled on rolling his eyes and you squeezed his hand. He watched the stars again and you feared that he wouldn’t answer you but then he looked to your hand in his, a soft expression melting the tension of the day. “Would we still come here, even if we weren’t friends- if we were more than friends?” 

Your heart twisted and your stomach bubbled with butterflies but you were smiling. “Every night, if you wanted,” 

“And you want that?” Cedric eyed you and you nodded eagerly. 

“I want you,”

Cedric nodded, a fond look on his face as he tugged on your hand. He didn’t cease until you took the signal and ended up in his lap. “Then you don’t have to worry about summer,” He said with a confidence you could never have. “I’ll write, if you want,” 

“And how will you sign your letter, if we aren’t friends?” You jested, letting your fingertips trail across the high curve of his cheekbones. 

“Hmm,” Cedric hummed, head resting against the tree as his eyes fluttered closed. Your ministrations were relaxing. “I s’pose I’d have to sign them with ‘sincerely, your not friend’”. 

“I think boyfriend has a better ring to it,” you pointed out. 

Cedric cheeks warmed in the balmy summer night. “I’d have to agree, that’d save me some ink too,” 

“Wouldn’t want to waste your ink, boyfriend,” You tried- and failed- to not sound pleased. 

“How kind of you, girlfriend,” Cedric shot back, eyes rolling in amusement. 

You had many memories of you and Cedric but as he kissed you under the starry sky, a permanent smile on his face, you couldn’t help but think that this was going to be one of your favorites. 

tag list: @thehumanistsdiary @angelinathebook @cleopatera

[halo-jpeg]

Hi love! Can I make a request for Thomas, Bubba, Brahms and the three Sinclair brothers asking their s/o to marry? I love your blog 💗💗 Ily💗

Of course this is so cute holy crap-

Some Slashers Proposing to their S/O

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas would ponder the question for days and days and days! Was he really up for this? Were you up for this? Would you say yes?

With some coaxing from his momma he’d finally decide that- yes, he could do this! He wanted to marry you, and he was confident that you would say yes!

He would try to make it seem like nothing was happening, though he never takes you into the forest. He always says it was too dangerous for you!

Unbeknownst to you, Luda Mae and Hoyt are hot on your tails, anticipated for the big question. Luda Mae just can’t wait to hold a wedding ceremony, her boy’s all grown up!

Thomas would stop you in the woods, towering over you in the most non-threatening way possible, taking in everything about you, tracing a hand over your cheek. 

The look in his eyes can’t help but make you smile, but the smile fades into a surprised expression as he gets down on one knee like he’s seen people do in movies. 

The ring he presents is nothing special- a simple silver wedding band passed down from his mother, but it’s more than enough because it’s from him. 

Of course you would say yes, and he’d be so relieved, standing tall again and wrapping his hands around your waist. After a passionate kiss and a dramatic twirl, Luda Mae and Hoyt would burst from their hiding places to congratulate the both of you. 

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba would be so, so so so so so so nervous, pacing in front of his brothers as he tried to communicate his question with shaking hands. He needed their approval first, of course.

After much struggle, Drayton would obviously encourage the idea, since you aren’t actually that bad- don’t tell your S/O he said that, Bubba! Bubba would be absolutely overjoyed, and he might even cry a little. This was really happening!

He’d make it up to be something very special! Drayton would prepare a huge dinner, and Bubba would dress up in his nicest outfit- his Grandfather’s old tux and his prettiest mask, topped off with lots and lots of makeup! He’d even get Nubbins and ChopTop to dress up!

After a spectacular dinner he’d drag you out to the sunflower fields, giddy with excitement and anticipation. He’d stop surrounded by tall yellow flowers and he’d hold your hands in his. 

With a deep breath he’d finally gather the courage to get down on his knee, holding out the ring he’d carved from bone fragments. It was detailed with little carvings and swirls, his greatest work ever. 

The pure joy he would feel as you say yes would force him to leap right back up, slipping the ring onto your finger and taking your hands, spinning quickly around in circles of celebration. 

He would hug you so close, kissing your cheeks and forehead repeatedly, and then he’d walk you back home to a waiting and happy family to plan a wedding.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms would know he wants to marry you from the moment you first started dating. He’d never tolerated anyone before, but you had wormed your way into his heart and he liked that.

He would want to do something very, very special, and since he’s always too afraid to go outside (but you begged him to come out and garden with you) he knew that you would love what he had in mind.

Days in advance he would build up his courage and slip out into the yard, scared as a squirrel. He’d scout out the grounds for a perfect place. Thank god you had kept all the flowers alive. 

At last, with a ring in his hand, he would drag you to the door after dinner, clean and wearing a fancy suit. You would be stunned and happy enough by him leading you outside with a confidence you hadn’t thought was possible for the scaredy cat. 

He would bring you to the ruins-like place overlooking the large lake, a bouquet of roses he’d snipped (dammit, Brahms, don’t cut the flowers!) resting on the edge. 

First, he’d give you the roses, and as you admired them he’d slip of his mask without you asking for once. By now you have to be wondering why he’s being so romantic and perfect. 

When he gets down on one knee it clicks, and your eyes well with tears. The ring he pulls out is gorgeous, a faded gold with a large diamond encrusted on the top. It was his mothers ring. 

A yes would be obvious, and once he stood again, slipping the ring onto your finger, he’d kiss you, a passionate kiss, more love-filled than any you’d ever shared. 

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent would make the proposal perfect. He’d get Bo’s permission to take over one of the buildings, moving out the wax figures and littering candles all over. He’d light each one and try to collect some flowers to scatter about. 

He’d be a little bit off all day, more affectionate and confident than usual. You also notice Bo and Lester are staying out of your way for once. 

Vincent would present to you a meal more sophisticated than any you’d ever had with the Sinclairs. Expensive steak, expensive wine, and expensive dessert.

Then, he’d take your hand and you’d stroll slowly towards the building he’d set up, the candles all lit and the flowers arranged beautifully. He’d hold the door open for you and he’d watch, adoring your surprised and awestruck expression. 

He’d profess his unending love for you, saying that you are his absolute soulmate and no one else would ever even rival your perfection. He’d take your hand, and he’d place the wax ring gently inside. 

Upon closer inspection, you can see that instead of a diamond there is a perfectly carved rose to size of your pinkie nail, realistic and stunning. 

After you say yes, he’d kiss you passionately, and rest your forehead against his, swaying back and forth and muttering praise, love, and thanks for being so perfect. 

Bo Sinclair

Bo never imagined himself getting married. It had never been important to him, but you- you made him feel some type of way and he needed you to see how much he loved you right back. 

He wouldn’t make it too special- he wouldn’t know how but he’d spend the entire day with you, making sure you felt appreciated. 

As the sun slid towards the horizon and Vincent was down in the basement, Lester asleep, you and Bo were left alone. He’d pull out some beers, a big blanket, and he’d sit with you out on the front porch stairs, your head on his shoulder and his hand in yours. 

He’d start off the proposal with a nervous question; “Can I say somethin’?” you could detect the nervousness in his voice, and you’d pull away to face him with a furrowed brow. “Of course!” 

He’d go on about how much he loves you; how mouch you’ve changed his life for the better, how he could never live without you, how you bring out the good in him. 

He’d fish through is pocket for the ring he’d stolen off of a victim from a few months back. It had small diamonds along the top of the rosegold band. 

“Sorry for bein’ so cheesy and soft, but... I wanna marry you. Or... I want you to marry me. This is a proposal, I guess.” he isn’t very good at this, stumbling over his words and correcting himself on numerous occasions. The amused expression on your face almost makes him think you’ll decline, but a passionate kiss is enough for him to know you agree.

He’d slip the ring on your finger, wearing a silly half smile, and you’d know he was the one. “I love you even more when you’re cheesy and soft.”

Lester Sinclair

Hoo, boy he is nervous. He has some serious self-esteem issues, so for the longest time he really wants to propose but he’s too afraid to. He rants to Vincent quite often since he’s so knowledgeable about romance and stuff like that. 

After plenty of reassuring, Lester finally gathers the courage to ask you the big question. He’d ask you to come on a last-minute scan of the nearby areas for roadkill, but that wouldn’t be very romantic. That’s not what you’re actually doing, of course.

He’ll bring you out to the forest, and now is when you realize the way he taps nervously on the steering wheel, chewing on the inside of his cheek. When you ask him what’s wrong, he’ll stutter out a “n-nothin’!” that makes you even more concerned. 

He’ll stop somewhere quiet and open so you can stare up at the stars, hopping from the front seat and asking you to meet him in the bed of the truck. 

He’ll sit with you there for a while, staring up at the breathtaking stars and the even more breathtaking you, until he feels gutsy enough to speak. 

He’ll brandish a ring he had bought from a nearby pawn shop, afraid that you wouldn’t like it. He’d spent more on it than he’s ever spent on anything else other than his truck. 

Upon hearing your ‘yes’ he can’t help but hold you tight, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent. He’s so lucky to have you.

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Mandoctober Day 13: Armorer

A/N: I feel like the armorer herself took a bit of back seat in this (which was a CRIME FOR ME TO DO!) but the context of the piece is that this is seen as part of a final chapter for Din and reader (since it’s a part 3 to Nervarro and Sorgan) Both fics I spent a lot of time on might I add (self promo eek). Anyway so The Armorer is seen as the one who forged a bond between the two, creating a path for not only Din but reader as well. Please let me know what you think of it in the comments!

This is for @leo-moon​ ‘s Mandoctober!

Din Djarin x female!reader 

Another trip to Nevarro, how exciting. Din didn’t usually express any particular excitement when it came to travelling from place to place but this time? He couldn’t seem to sit still. 

“Is everything alright my love?” You chuckled to yourself as you watched his squirm for the third time. 

“Yes! Brilliant in fact.” The nervous tone he gave raised suspicion within you. Din wasn’t known for being spontaneous. Yet ever since you had admitted your feelings for each other on Sorgan, he had become more...romantic, in a sense.

He was still on guard and in some aspects he refused to get even closer to you, sharing parts of himself he had never shared before. Although, teaching you how to dance was the piece of the puzzle that snowballed into your relationship with the Mandalorian. 

You figured it was a part of his nature to be standoffish...but when you were alone? He was more tender...more, soft. He showed you glimpses of himself that would never dare to see the light of day. They were brief, easy to miss and when you gazed into the depths of him? It felt like...you had come across diamonds. 

Being with Din as more than friends was...exhilarating to say the least. 

Starting to celebrate the small things in life was a gradual process, one that you had learnt from him. Whether he knew it or not was entirely up to you. Din Djarin made living on board the Crest seem so...mundane. 

At least...when you weren’t being hunted down or shot at.

Today wasn’t one of those days...not yet, at least.

---

It felt like you were walking on a tightrope, except that tightrope came in the form of a blade’s edge.

Why did today feel like a massive secret? He had told you where you were going, he said you were seeing the armorer once again but...he hadn’t told you why? Din always told you why, even the small details that didn’t even matter that much. 

Living with a Mandalorian had taught you that ignoring the smallest of details could bring you an early downfall...if you weren’t careful. Today felt like a warning sign. 

Maybe...you were just overreacting. 

But you can never be too careful...right?

“Din, I feel...weird.” Voicing your concerns felt strange, especially whilst trudging through the ruins of Nevarro. After everything that had happened with the child there still wasn’t much left on the surface besides the odd bounty hunter travelling through the rocky valley. It was a good thing the covert was so well hidden. 

“What do you mean by weird Cyar'ika?” his helmet flicked to you for a flicker of a moment before he set his sights on the horizon once again. He was...acting weird.

“Well first of all you’re not telling me much about what’s going on today...we’ve been together for years now I don’t understand why you can’t trust me with this information...no matter how dangerous it may be.” Shuffling the baby around, you huffed in exertion, ever since Din had purchased the satchel it felt as if the baby grew heavier and heavier with each passing day. 

“I don’t know about ‘dangerous’...but after today, things might change. Hopefully for the better.” Did he have to always be so cryptic? You knew it was more like him due to his dry humor but still...it kinda hurt to be kept out of the loop. 

---

Drinking tea amongst a bunch of Mandalorians felt way more awkward yet personal since last time. The armorer hadn’t changed a bit...she was still just as mysterious, strong and creative as ever. 

You still admired her. Occasionally you indulged in a day dream where you and Din had met as Mandalorians. Imagining your own armor had become a particular pastime. The fact you weren’t a Mandalorian used to hurt you but ever since Din comforted you a couple of years ago, the burden seemed to ease off of your shoulders. 

Protecting your clan was your life’s mission. No matter how many bounties came at you. 

“So...how have things been?” These being the first words you had spoken to the armorer...ever, was an awkward realisation. Shifting your legs as you sat before her, you could only wonder what this specific meeting was about. 

“Well...since Djarin contacted us the tribe have been rather excited for your arrival.” She breathed. Sometimes when she talked, it felt like the words just flowed out-wait, did she just say ‘excited’? 

“Excited? What do you mean?” Confusion laced your entire being as the Mandalorians rearranged themselves before you. 

The armorer reached into a pouch at her side as Din removed his gloves. What the kriff was happening right now?

You didn’t catch a glimpse of what she handed to him but by the way Din shuffled around more, squirming in fact, you saw this had been the item that made him nervous. 

“Do you remember the first time we came here? The first time I properly shared my culture with you? And what it meant to me?” These questions scared you. It felt like he was about to leave without coming back for a long, long time. 

“Of course I remember. Din what’s going on? You’re starting to make me nervous.” The growing concern in your voice began to throw him off as he got on one knee. Wait...what?!

“Cyare...that day you also got mistaken for my Riduur. And...If you’ll have me, I’d like to correct that by making it true.” It may have been far from a traditional proposal in your mind, but you found it cute nonetheless as you started to tear up.

Riduur...spouse, husband,

Wife.

You wanted to be his wife...for a while now actually. It only took the simple wedding band in his hand to tell you so.

“I’d be honoured and delighted to be your Riduur, my love.” Wrestling with oncoming tears, you managed to get the words out as Din took your hand, sliding the ring with ease onto your finger. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum, Y/N.” 

“...Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Din.”

[kirishwima]

Don’t worry about us, please try not to stress out. I am only sending in this request merely due to it not leaving me alone. RFA+V, Unknown (cannot remember how to spell his name) reactions to MC in their wedding dress, what type of wedding will they have? Please do not mind and please study wisely.

ahh this is a cute and light-hearted idea :’) You speak of a wedding dress but refer to MC as they/them, so I’ll be writing for them as non-binary! 

I’ll also add photos of what I think their wedding dress/suit would be bc....I have to, and because I have a whole pinterest board of wedding dresses saved from last summer when I was helping my sister plan her wedding orz :’)

YOOSUNG:

* When speaking of weddings, Yoosung’s always imagined the beautiful classics; standing at the altar, seeing the love of his life walk down the aisle dressed in the most gorgeous gown, his smile broadening at the sight of them.

* He himself wore a humble black suit, but with a baby blue bow-tie; reminiscing of his own innocence.

* He absoloutely had Zen help him pick out his suit; they took Seven along too but he kept insisting Yoosung should just wear a onesie instead lmao

* He did discuss with MC what they’d like to wear; when they said they wanted to wear a dress, he immediatly thought of classic puffy white dresses with lace and toule. 

* Seeing MC walk towards him though, he couldn’t help how his jaw hung open, how his eyes widened. “Lucky you”, he heard Seven whisper, standing besides him as his best man. 

* MC was like a princess, and he, their soon-to be prince. He took their hand as they reached the altar, kissing their knuckles with a wide smile. He’d ditched his glasses for the wedding, finally able to see better with the help of surgery, and he blessed each of his doctors for being able to witness the sight that was MC.

*Overall he’s just a tearful happy nugget, and 10/10 will choke with tears whilst saying his vows

ZEN:

* Despite what you may be thinking, he actually doesn’t dream of big fancy weddings and expensive venues. His ideal wedding would be something simple; a gathering of friends and loved ones, perhaps even by the beach, being able to stand besides the one he loves comfortably and proudly.

* He’s glad that he and MC are on the same page about that; even if he’s a celebrity, his humble approach to life never changed, and he wants their wedding to reflect that. So a wedding by the beach it is!

* It’s Zen we’re talking about, so even a potato sack would look flattering on him, so his choice of suits is endless. He’s classy but doesn’t like the plain old black suit, so instead he goes for something more summery, given their venue. 

* I can really imagine him in a linen suit, ditching the tie for a more laid-back look, his hair tied into an intricate braid, even wearing one or two little white flowers at its end.

* He’d be just as awe-struck with how MC looks no matter what they’d wear, suit or dress, casual or formal. He’ll love them just as much if he sees them every morning in their pyjamas and bed hair, or in a gown and heels. 

* Simple and elegant, and nicer than the summer breeze blowing through Zen’s hair, he had to bite his lip, blinking back tears threatening to fall at the thought he’s about to spend the rest of his life with his beloved. (Also he has to fight the Beast until later tonight and hoo boy is that a hassle or WHAT)

* All in all-he’s one happy hecking groom, and he can’t wait to tear that dress off of them the moment they’re in their private quarters lol

JAEHEE:

* Honestly...she didn’t see the point of holding a wedding at first. Did she fantasize about it as a little girl? Sure, she did. But as she got older and the thought of dating and family got further and further away from her, that childhood dream was put aside, stored in the repressed part of her brain.

* It’d been MC who proposed, and MC who began the planning for the wedding-they didn’t want Jaehee to feel burdened with organizing, but the more Jaehee worked to plan their wedding, the more she fell in love with the idea of this special day just for the two of them, and the more she fell in love with MC, seeing their hard work and adoration towards her.

* They didn’t want to have an all-out wedding like many couples do; just them, their families and the RFA, a little get together to celebrate a milestep of their life together. 

* They had arrived at the dillema of; will we both wear suits? Dresses? Should one of us wear a suit and the other a dress? In the ned MC suggested they each decide on a look without telling the other, so it’ll be just as much of a surprise for each of them to see the other on their wedding day!

* Jaehee is a practical woman, yes, but we know that she’s not the strict short-haired lady she was whilst working with Jumin-she allows herself to explore femiminity more and more in her route, and I feel that’d be evident in her choice of a wedding gown-simple, yet elegant and chic.

* With her hair in a gorgeous loose bun, flowers adorning her head, her ring-finger soon to be decorated with a delicate ring she and MC chose together-she almost can’t believe the person looking back at her in the mirror is herself.

* Less so can she believe that the person she’s about to marry is soon walking towards her, a smile on their face as if they’re the lucky one to be marrying Jaehee when Jaehee stares wide-eyed at the beautiful person she’s eagerly waiting to spend the rest of her life with;

* Of course they’d choose a dress with pockets, she thinks with a roll of her eyes, if only to tease Jaehee about her own lack of pockets later on. 

* They both can’t help but stare at each other as they meet at the altar, wide eyed with incredulous smiles. The preacher even has to cough politely to get their attention back to well, their wedding lmao

* It’s everything Jaehee could’ve wanted and then some.

JUMIN:

* Yeah yeah, it’s Jumin Han, the handsome man in a suit, and yeah he’s gonna have an all-out wedding alright-but only if that’s what MC wants. 

* He honestly...doesn’t care what the ceremony will be like, who will be there or what they’ll say. He only cares about seeing MC’s ring finger adorned with a rind that has his surname engraved in it, a mark on them that says MC’s his, his and no one elses.

* Even if he wears suits on the daily, his wedding is no exception; he’ll wear a suit tialored to perfection, classic black and sleek, matching his raven-dark hair, slicked back for the occasion-he’d go to the ceremony in his pyjamas if he had to, so long as he’s able to call MC his spouse once the day’s over.

* He had given MC the absoloute liberty of choosing what to wear, with the only condition being they have the best tailors across the world work on their outfit, wanting it to be as unique and wonderful as MC themself. 

* It was jarring at first, to have 5 or 6 professionals tug and probe at MC whilst working on their measurements and meeting up to discuss their style, but they figure that’s just how life with Jumin as their husband will be-extreme, sometimes awkward, but full of love and care; they could see it in his smile when they came home from their fitting, tired but happy as they snuggled up in his arms, him stroking their hair until they fell asleep.

* It’s hard to find a dress picture that I feel captures what MC’s dress would be, but I think the closest to it would be something like this;

* “The most befitting dress for royal beauty such as yours”, Jumin whispers to MC’s ear as they approach him at the altar, his smile small and private, for MC’s eyes only.

* Yet as he leans down to kiss them, completely ignoring the preacher waiting to start the ceremony, he whispers on their lips ‘I love you’, and MC knows from the bottom of their soul, that no matter what they wore, how they looked, Jumin would love them just as much. And they’re forevel grateful for that.

* p.s: Elizabeth the 3d is ABSOLOUTELY going to be the ring bearer, and she’ll have her own little dress appropriate for the occasion, fight me on this.

SEVEN/LUCIEL/SAEYOUNG:

* Y’all....tease him about the ‘let’s get married at the space station’ bit all you want, but this boy DREAMS of a wedding, a family and happy life for so long, you can never convince me he doesn’t go all out for his wedding.

* A beautiful, flower-covered venue? Check. Tailored, custom-made suit? Check. Planning everything to the most minute detail? YES. He’ll run himself dry working on creating the perfect wedding, it’ll take some convincing from MC to tone it down lmao.

* He’ll still insist on inviting absurd guests just like he did with the RFA parties, but in all honesty, he just wants MC besides him, Saeran and Yoosung next to him as hie best men (yes he can have both of them shush), the rest of the RFA there to congratulate him and MC on their special day; the people he loves, to celebrate the day of uniting with his one true love, that’s all Saeyoung wants.

* To be able to say ‘I love you MC’, and to have MC tell him ‘I love you, Saeyoung’-to formally and completely leave the life of 707 behind, to have his brother hug him, congratulate him on his wedding-this is all more than enough to make Saeyoung cry happy tears, pushing his palms on his eyes as he laughs and cries at the same time, letting MC hug him to help him calm down.

* While he does dream of a classic classy wedding, he loves the colour red a little too much, so he’d try and sneak it in there, be it in a vest or bow tie lol (he’d absoloutely wear a bow tie instead of a tie, and he’d be allowed one (1) doctor who joke for the duration of the ceremony lmao)

* ((also....not relevant to the wedding itself, but his marriage proposal would absoloutely be at a planetarium, js))

* As for MC...they’d spent nights on the couch together, eating chips and wondering what they’d each wear on the day of their wedding. They ended up taking Jaehee and some more of their friends with them when looking for a dress, as much as Saeyoung pouted and asked to tag along.

* It was worth it to keep him in the dark though; his big wide eyes as MC walked towards him, how he had to bite his lip to stop giggling like a fool, he was jumping up and down at the altar, giggling behind his hands as he mumbled ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god allah and buddha!’. 

* “Holy shit” he whispered to himself, earning a stern gaze from the preacher, his brother groaning in the background. MC took it as a compliment though, smiling up at him as they stood across him.

* This boy....will cry real ugly snort filled tears at his wedding vows, I guarantee it.

V/JIHYUN:

* BOHO WEDDING BOHO WEDDING BOHO WEDDING

* Like hello??? Have you seen this hippie-ass man at the end of his route?? He’ll be so happy with a marriage ceremony in the forest, in a little church that looks almost abandoned in its little spot at the edge of the woods, in a little city no one knew before V brought it up.

* He’d love to help decorate and renovate the church for their wedding, using funds taken from a painting collection he did featuring the very forest the church sits besides. 

* (I can also totally picture their wedding taking place in a botanical garden/greenhouse, if you’d rather skip the church option! Just surrounded by plants and nature :D)

* Even if it’s not a boho wedding though-just being able to spend the rest of his life besides MC, the person that truly taught him what love is, that’s all handsome mint boy needs.

* Honestly...he’s extra enough to be the kind of guy that ditches the shirt, so I can imagine him wearing something like the following, but in a darker colour; 

* As for MC....yeah I’m gonna add my personal favorite here bc bOHO WEDDING DRESSES ARE GORGEOUS AND MC WOULD LOOK LIKE A FAE APPEARING THROUGH THE WOODS AND JIHYUN WOULD ABSOLOUTELY GASP AT THE SIGHT OF THEM, WIPING AWAY A STRAY TEAR AS HE KISSES THEIR FOREHEAD WHEN THEY REACH HIM AT THE ALTAR, SAYING A QUIET ‘THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU’ ONLY MC CAN HEAR.

((something with a little simpler bust, but the puffy sleeves,,,flowy dress,,,the line cut that’s honestly so charming on any figure,,,fight me this is the cutest kind of dress))

UNKNOWN/SAERAN:

* He’d really want a small, closed wedding just for him, MC, and the RFA sure, why not (he’s kidding, he’s grown really fond of them all but he refuses to openly admit it)

* If MC suggests they hold their ceremony at a greenhouse he’ll be over the moon; he’ll personally visit the greenhouse and make sure all the flowers are in tip top condition for their wedding.

* For his own suit, he’d like to keep things simple, maybe even ditching the whole suit and tie thing; 

* I really imagine him with a suit similar to this, but ditching the vest , with flowers pinned to his blazer that he looks fondly at, knowing MC will be holding a bouquet just like these, ones he himself picked out with all his love and care, removing each thorn to make sure nothing can harm their hands as they hold the bouquet.

* As MC walks towards him through the greenhouse his breath shudders, any words he may have had dying in his throat; MC looks ethereally beautiful and he’s out of words as they come to stand in front of him, his lips trembling.

* Is this person really his? The one he’ll be able to hold, to love for as long as he lives? He shakingly takes MC’s hand in his, giving them a tight squeeze as he smiles.

* “In sickness and in health” he whispers, smiles as MC says it back.

* In sickness and in health.

-Send me mystic messenger headcanons for character reactions-

[221castiel]

“Castiel,”

“I would begin by saying I love you, but that wouldn’t be enough. I love you you can say to anything, or anyone, what I feel for you is so much more. What I feel for you is every happy moment, every single sunset, and cloud watch. What I feel for you is the good moments, but not just the ones like Christmas, the small things, the grass against our feet, the smell of fresh rain, the colour of your eyes. Everything you’ve helped me through, and taught me. I love you is not enough, but for now it will have to do.”

“Castiel Novak, would you give me the honor, for more moments, more memories, and the time to find the proper wording, by marrying me?”

Dean opened the small velvet box raising it as he did so. He kept it raised for another second before closing the box, letting his arms fall back to his side, “what did you think? Would you have said yes?” Dean asked the man behind the counter who looked back with what Dean could only describe as utter exhaustion. “Maybe I should try again with the silver one, you know with the huge fucking diamond.”

“No!” The man quickly cried. “I think the one you have is perfect, and even after hearing it three times I think your speech is also perfect. Now shall I ring you up?”

Dean nodded. He reopened the small box, starting at the ring inside. It was gorgeous, the band a shiny silver, with a black strip across the middle, and in the center a dark blue gem. Matching the velvet it sat on. He knew it was the one, but even still he had the smallest feeling of uncertainty. Maybe it was too simple. Maybe Cas would prefer a diamond, or at least a bigger gem.

“Do you think it’s expensive enough?” Dean asked looking back to the jewler.

“You are aware it’s five thousand dollars?”

“Yah, but my boyfriend comes from a rich family, maybe I should go for a seven thousand one? I heard that's the average price for New York.”

The man raised an eyebrow, as he looked Dean up and down, Dean’s own gaze dropping down his body, to the old t-shirt and faded jeans he wore. “I don’t know your boyfriend, but I have reasons to believe price isn’t his biggest concern,” he paused, finally stopping his judging look and giving Dean a forced smile. “And that you should be putting your money in other aspects of your life.”

Dean only gave a nod in understanding, instead looking back to the ring, the smallest smile on his lips. The gem was the same shade as Castiel’s eyes, the black almost the same shade as his hair, it was so perfect the ring could’ve been made for him.

Dean looked back to the seller, the smile not dropping from his face, “I think I wanna try the first one again.”

~~~

Slowly Dean crouched to one knee, raising the opened box. The cold night wind blew, and for a second all he could think about was how he wished he hadn’t left his jacket in the car, his fingers already numb.

“Angel.”

“From the day I met you, you were different. You were kind and patient, and you loved everything so much. And you had me amazed. I couldn't understand how you could do it, find the good in everyone and everything, you made games out of traffic jams, and brought homeless people for lunch, even when I told you not to. But you never cared what others thought, or said, and you loved with every inch of your being. I never thought I could have that, but when I’m with you, I do. I love you with everything I have, and everything I am.”

“Castiel Novak, would you please make me the happiest man on earth, and marry me?”

“Of course!” Charlie cried, throwing herself into Dean’s arms, the moment he had stood, it didn’t stop the nerves. Her cheery smile, the adorance she had for the date Dean planned, despite it all his heart still hammered. He was going to mess up, when he had to do it for real, he knew it. “Dean, that was beautiful. I’m so happy for you two!”

“He hasn’t said yes yet.”

“Which he will. If you ask,” Charlie replied. She stepped away looking up with an obviously disapproving look, though with her red hair messy, strands falling in her face, it wasn’t nearly as intimidating. “You are going to ask him soon? Right?”

Dean took a hesitant breath. , he knew Charlie was right, it had been over a month since he had bought the ring, but the timing never seemed right. Something always went wrong whether it was the weather or or car problems, things just couldn’t be perfect. “I’ve tried to, I just- I just want everything to be perfect, you know? What if he doesn’t even say yes?”

“Dean.” He nodded his gaze never leaving Charlies, though every inch of him screamed to run. “he’s going to say yes. I have no doubt in my mind, just ask him tomorrow you’re going to drive yourself crazy waiting.”

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

~~~

“Dean, this is weird.”

“Just shut up.”

Slowly Dean crouched to his knee, raising the box, and opening it. “Castiel-” Dean began though as he looked up to Sam, he could only sigh, letting his arms fall back to his side. “You’re right this is weird.”

Instead of standing Dean sat, his gaze staying locked on the ring, the blue gem seeming to mock him. Even as Sam sat next to him, Dean continued to stare, studying each inch of the ring, every single detail, no matter how small. Did he even choose the right ring, how was he even supposed to propose if he didn’t.

“How many times have you practised?” Sam asked

Dean shrugged, he slowly looked up from the ring and to the park that spread out in front of them, it was quite, something unusual for New York. It would've been the perfect night to ask Castiel, if only he wasn’t such a coward. “To another person? Cause I can’t even count all the showers.”

“I really don’t want to know what you do in the shower.”

The smallest smile tugged at Dean’s lips. “Want to hear what me and Cas do in the shower?”

“Dude!” Sam cried. “I don’t want hear about your sex life!”

“I was going to say talk about our favourite dog breeds, but if your head’s that far in the gutter.”

“I hate you.”

A small laugh parted his lips as Dean looked to his brother, who sat to his left. “Did you like the date?” He asked, getting a nod. “Did you think it was enough? Or should we do something else as well? Go to the movies? Maybe a ball? Are those still things?”

“Dean it’s Cas.”

“Really? I had no Idea!” Dean cried sarcastically, which caused Sam to roll his eyes.

“Even I know he would prefer something small.”

Dean sighed, he dragged his hands down his face. His brother was right, no matter how much Dean wished he wasn’t. “I know, I'm just.” Dean let out a shaken breath, “what if i'm not enough? His family already hates me, I'm broke, on the verge of being homeless every second week.”

“what if he realizes he can do better?”

There was a moment of silence as Sam didn't speak, his eyes only wondering across Dean. This was the first time those words had left Dean’s mouth, the thought that had been spinning though his head since him and Cas had been dating. He wasn’t good enough, it will only take a matter of time before Cas realizes it.

Dean wasn’t good enough, and it terrified him.

“You’ve slept with his sister.”

“Thank you,” Dean cried, not caring to hide the anger that was so clear in his voice. “Thank you so fuckin’ much doctor Phil.”

“Let me finish,” Sam snapped back, for once Dean listening, holding back his sarcastic comments.

“You’ve slept with his sister, you’ve gone through debt, and therapists, and you’ve pushed him away, and torn yourself apart.” Was this supposed to be a pep talk, Dean wasn’t sure. It definitely didn’t feel like it. “Dean, he’s seen you at rock bottom, and he’s still with you, because he loves you and nothing is going to change that, He’s going to love how ever you propose, not because of how big the proposal is, or how pricey the ring is, but because it’s from you. Could you get that through your thick skull”

Dean looked back to the ring. He could see it on the other’s finger perfectly, it would look beautiful against his tanned skin. “I'm going to ask him this weekend.”

~~~

“AND THEN, THERE WAS A FUCKING RING IN HIS CHAMPAGNE!” Dean screamed, “WHAT SON OF A BITCH PROPOSES IN CHAMPAGNE?”

“It ended up being for the table next to you. Then because you’re an idiot you told Cas that you think marriage is stupid, usless, and gouverment propaganda-” Sam paused, “I don’t think you know what propaganda means.”

Dean glanced at his brother then back to the road, “I’ve told you this already?”

“At least twenty three times, and it’s only been a week.” Sam replied, “when was the last time you’ve seen him?”

“Well it’s been a week since the ring incident, so a week.”

A sigh came from his right, though this time Dean didn’t turn his head, instead continuing to watch the road. He could drive the route in his sleep, though Dean preferred the familiar scenery over his brother’s disapproving looks. Sam had insisted he needed a book from Castiel’s apartment, and that Dean had to drive him, which was absolute bullshit.

Sam knew where Cas lived

He had his own car.

Dean guessed Sam was just done watching him mope around.

The rest of the drive was done in silence, until they pulled up to Castiel's apartment building, a tall expensive one at least triple the size of Dean’s own, when Sam pulled out his phone. “Shit,” he cried, sliding unlock, “I missed a call from work could you grab the book for me?”

“Fine,” Dean mumbled.

He pushed open the drivers door, making sure to give Sam one last glare before he got out. “Fuckin’ idiot.” Dean continued to complain as he walked to the building's front door, typing in the code before he pushed open the front door, and stepped into the main entrance.

His annoyance didn’t falter, as he took the elevator up to Cas’s floor, and then made his way down the hallway. He missed the other, but he didn’t want to see Cas. He didn’t want to be reminded of the ring that burned in his pocket, or of his failure to propose. He didn’t want to be reminded of his fears.

Frankly all Dean wanted was to lay in his bed, and listen to sad Led Zeppelin songs.

“Who even reads fuckin books,” Dean grumbled, unlocking Cas’s door. As he pushed open the door Dean’s mouth opened to yell a greeting, though as quickly as his mouth opened, it was shut again, his breath hitching in his throat at the scene in front of him.

Roses, candles, Cas. On one knee. A box raised. Ring rested in the centre.

Cas proposing.

Shit.

Dean lips parted only to close seconds later, then open once again, the words never seeming to come. He could only focus on the hammering of his heart, and Cas. Cas proposing.

Cas was proposing.

Cas was proposing to him.

Shit he really needed to say something.

“Well fuck me,” Dean finally whispered, the smallest smile spreading across the others face.

“Hello Dean.”

“Cas-“ he didn’t know what he wanted to say, he wasn’t even sure if it was truly happening as he hesitantly walked towards the other, vision seeming to blur worse with each step. He was going to cry. He didn’t care. “Cas-“

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel began in his usual steady voice. That was all it took before the tears began rolling down Dean’s face, a hand going to his mouth to stop the sobs that he knew would be quick to follow. “There are billions of people in this world, there are endless possibilities, and I understand that you don’t believe in faith, despite that we somehow came together.”

Cas paused for a moment, his blue eyes staring up, wide and hazy. Cas was proposing. Cas was proposing.

Was Dean breathing? He wasn’t sure.

“We were not destined to be together.”

“It was not faith that had brought us together.”

“It was our choice.”

“We chose to be together, through every day, through every fight, through every impossible battle. We choose each other.”

“Dean, would you please do me the honor of choosing me again?”

Dean could only nod frantically as tears fell from his eyes, a choked sob passing his lips. “I-” Dean began using one hand to wipe away the tears as Cas stood, and took his other to slide the ring on. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I love you as well.”

Dean stepped forward pulling his fiance into a tight hug. He rested his chin against Cas’s shoulder as the other wrapped his arms around Dean in a just as tight hug. For a moment he couldn’t speak, a mix of emotion twisting his stomach, his heart hammering frantically in his chest.

Through it all only one thought stayed clear in his mind, Cas proposed to him.

Cas proposed.

“I was going to.” Dean explained as he pulled away, his gaze darting across the other’s features. His blue eyes, his tanned skin, dark hair. God he was stunning. Dean could stare forever. “Propose I mean, but you know things weren’t working, and It just never seemed to be the right time, and-”

“Sam had told me,” Cas said, interrupting Dean’s rambling much to his relief.

Dean didn’t reply, his gaze staying locked on the other. They were so close, they were always so close, though for once Dean finally looked away, and instead down to the ring on his finger. It was a shiny silver one, with a diamond in the centre, adn small ones lining the band. It was gorgeous, Dean couldn’t stop staring, or the smile that spread across his face.

He couldn’t even find it in him to be angry at Sam.

“Yes,” Cas suddenly said, Dean’s gaze darting from the ring and back to the other, a small frown grazing his lips

“What?”

“Yes,” Cas repeated, “My answer to your proposal is yes. I will marry you.”

Dean grinned, his gaze once again locked on the other. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

[docholligay]

Fluff prompt: Lena talks to Winston about proposing to Emily

She was the patron saint of long odds, Lena Oxton, and it wasn’t terribly uncommon for a pilot, in the years when she had become a legend in her own right, especially to carry a charm of her insignia clipped to the edge of a jacket or tucked into a pocket. Not as they were superstitious, of course, but it never hurt. Her ability to raise from the dead, to come back from impossible injury, would become as enshrined in the mythos of Britannia as King Arthur or Saint George themselves, and Winston would always smile a bit as people spoke of her in that nearly reverent way. 

His experience of her never touched legendary qualities, for we cannot love the things we deify, the bright gold of them refusing the shadows that make a thing tarnished and worn enough to be real. No, Tracer, to him, would always be a bit of a mess, and get ahead of herself, and laugh at her own jokes, and lose her keys at the drop of a hat, and rage and sob and spark with joy all with equal immediacy. 

Besides, it was hard to think too reverently about someone with a crumb of cake on their upper lip. 

“I finally am going to do it, Win.” She grinned brightly, even as her fork still contained a bit of strawberry cake. 

“You’ve been talking about it for months,” Winston smiled, “I think I’ve heard at least twelve different plans.” 

“Right, right, but I’ve done it this time,” She took a brochure out of her pocket, “See? Been saving up, I ‘ave, and we’re off two weeks from now.” 

Winston knew about the cruise Emily and Tracer were meant to go on. Tracer had been saving for nearly as many months as she’d been thinking about asking Emily, and Emily, too, had been laying it aside. They deserved a fancy vacation, all things told, and so they’d carefully socked it away, Tracer being not too proud to pick up a  few flying lessons, to take one in proper luxury, on that was all inclusive, and finer than Tracer had probably ever seen in her life. It was the smallest room, the only one the two of them could afford, but Tracer had excitedly talked about which were her best suits, and encouraged Emily to look around for something properly formal for the dance nights on the deck. 

It was wonderful, to see Tracer so happy. 

“You’re going to ask her there? When?” 

Tracer leaned back,. “A little less sure on that, ‘ave to make a proper reconnoiter of the ship, right? Find the perfect place.” 

“She’ll say yes.” Winston was not even certain that Tracer doubted it, particularly, but he still wanted to offer the reassurance. Emily loved her dearly, in the way that it was impossible to spend too much time around Tracer and not begin to love her some. She pulled people into her orbit surely as any heavenly body. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to get it right,” not concerned at all, Winston could see, “Em deserves the romance of it all, right? Something...like a fairytale, for ‘er. I’m not always so easy to be with, I don’t think.” 

“I don’t think that’s true, Lena.” Winston shook his head. “I don’t think you’re hard to love at all.”

“Such a soft touch, you are, big guy,” she giggled, and rubbed his forearm, her nose crinkling, ��I mean that--I suppose it is also true that I’m a bit of a odd bird, bit annoying, at the corners, right--but I mean that me job, it’s a bit dangerous, bit unpredictable. Not many’d sign up for that, in the long term, and that I do know.” 

Winston nodded. It was true that Tracer had never had what could fairly be called a lack of luck, with women, but the battles and the danger, while excited at first, became a certain level of terrifying once you came to love Tracer. She narrowly avoided death, from day to day, sure as a jackrabbit, but there was always that sword hanging high above her head, the dayher luck ran out. Tracer herself was the first to admit to it, with a smile and a shake of her head, that people like her didn’t often die in their beds, but then, often isn’t the same as never, is it? 

And she was the patron saint of long odds. 

“She loves you.” 

It was simple, succinct, and the greatest truth that Winston could know. He’d known it from the first time he and Emily had sat down to one of Tracer’s little teas together, Tracer buzzing about the kitchen trying to assemble little trays of things, far more formal than any weekend tea she’d shared with Winston alone. The way she stumbled as she spoke to him, the way she gently complimented him, the way she tried to reassure him she would never try to take Tracer away. She had seen his fear, and he had believed her when she told him, and she had kept that promise. 

He felt he had gained someone else, instead of losing Tracer. He loved Emily, too. Emily seemed to love him. 

Tracer’s eyes sparkled. “I want to make ‘er ‘appy, Win. That’s all. I know ‘er family’s a bit cool on the idea of me--”

“Her brothers love you.” 

Tracer nodded. “Right, that is true. Mum and Dad, I mean, aren’t terribly keen on me. But,” she shrugged, “not as if it’s their life, and Emily seems pleased enough with me, and--” 

She pulled a little box out of her pocket, and opened it to show Winston. It was a small ring, but tasteful, slightly cloudy in the stone, but shined up as best as it could be. 

“Me nan’s. Not much but,” she turned it to her and looked at it, “I thought she might like it. Bit of me ‘istory, right? More than any bloody crest or what ‘ave you.” 

Winston took it out of her hand and inspected it. “No one else fought you for it?” 

“I mean, Ollie’s already married, Florrie, too, and took the ring from her dad’s side. Isn’t Parvati’s style at all, and I don’t think Raj’ll ever bother with marriage at all, right? Not as if it’s worth much, other than the sentiment.” She laughed, “But I did ask! Promise.” 

“Lena--” 

“Would you be me best man, Win?” Tracer cocked her head and looked at him, beaming, “Would mean a lot to me.” 

“Me?” If Winston was built for crying, he would have felt his eyes well with tears, but as human as he was, that was something they had never given him, “You don’t want to ask Parvati?” 

Tracer waved a hand. “Parvati’s gotten me the whole of ‘er bloody life, and god knows I don’t want to see the hen party she’ll plan. You’re me best mate, Win. I want you to do it. Promise I can find you a tailor for the suit.” 

Winston gently set down the ring. Could he have imagined, all those years ago, when he had figured out the riddle and pulled her back through time, a pilot whimpering on the bug jar floor, that he would grow to be so loved? To hear someone call him her best friend, and know that she meant it with her whole heart? Could he have imagined he would know what it felt like to be hugged tightly, and trusted deeply, and asked for such an honor? 

To imagine such a thing, when he came to earth a scared child, would have been impossible. 

“I would love to, Lena.” 

“Oh, thank you Win!” She sprung up in a jump, blinked, and hugged him tightly around the neck, “Promise I’ll message you soon as she says yes, with every detail, oh I will, and then we can ‘ave a bit of an engagement party when I get back, right? Just something small, but it’ll get Fareeha and Ang out of the ‘ouse if nothing else, and save Em telling the story too many times. Oh Win!” 

She hugged him again. “I’m so excited. So ‘appy.” She hadn’t needed to say so. She nearly vibrated with it. “I love you, Win.” 

No, not impossible. 

Just long odds.