#i would have gotten on one knee and proposed on live tv

[thesingingrevolution]

“mc sunghoon was so boring” just say you have no appreciation for an amazing sense of humor, endearing awkwardness, cute expressions, good presence, beautiful visuals and GO

[crumbledcastle28]

Javier Peña: Call Me Javi

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Excerpt: “His hands found their way to your waist as he walked you further and further backward, obviously having your apartment memorized like the back of his hand, and lifted you against the wall. You let a whine escape into his mouth, his facial hair burning so good against you as you did, and he pulled away with a groan that sounded like he was near pain.

“Tell me Y/N,” he whispered, breathing as hard as he did after raids, “tell me if I need to stop, because I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Your brows creased together in slight confusion, but you whispered, “I will.”

He kissed you again, before sinking to his knees.”

Warnings: SMUTTT, slightly insecure reader, mentions of smoking, Javier is cocky (what’s new), oral female receiving, idiots in love.

1.4k

A/N: I needed some Javi in my life. I hope you enjoy :)

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

(gif credit to owner I owe you big time this gif absolutely ends me)

The rubber from his tires came into your apartment’s parking lot so hot they ignited not one spark, but a dozen, lighting up the dark Colombian sky. You could feel your legs beginning to quiver and shake, knowing who was behind that wheel. 

“Right now?” he had whispered over the phone. 

“Right now, Javier” you whispered back, “now or never.”

That wasn’t even ten minutes ago.

Javier Peña had been your acquaintance for two years, your coworker for one, and your friend for six months. The process had been slow, due to both of your unique issues and the fact that you were after the best drug lord that had ever lived, but you had gotten there eventually. He understood your humor--even the pieces of it dripping in a dark ink--and that was where your own spark began. The teasing began, then the bickering, then the long smokes outside after a day with more casualties than fingers on your hands where neither of you had to say anything. 

He had always been good at that, saying everything yet nothing at all. It was exactly what you needed in those moment, the silence of the unsaid pact between you: keep each other sane. Keep each other distracted. 

There was only one more step you had to take, one more figurative box to check to let Javier truly distract you from the bucket of shit day you had. You could see it in his eyes during those long smoking nights, the proposal for it, but he always read your eyes right back: Not yet.

It didn’t take very long or “not yet” to turn into “right now.”

Your heart crawled further and further up your throat when you heard his boots hit your carpeted floor, moving just fast enough to be subtle but fast enough for you to smirk, and you cracked your door open a sliver. 

He looked how he always looked, handsome with a drizzle of rugged. Your kryptonite. 

You took a deep breath before opening the door, reminding yourself that this is just Javier. The Javier who drinks black coffee, only black coffee, blushes at compliments, has a soft spot for cats, adores reality tv, and would never, ever hurt you.

You opened the door all the way when he made his way in front of it. His eyes were blown wide, the proposal from all those weeks ago present in his eyes, as well as...apprehension. Like he genuinely thought this would never happen, you would never say yes, and if he traced one valley of your skin, he would wake up. 

You smiled, enjoying this look on him, and nodded. 

He smiled too, and kissed you dizzy. 

He walked you back into the apartment, gently, and helped you close the door. His tongue teased yours as he locked it behind his back, and you both pulled away to smile. It weakened more than just your limbs. 

His hands found their way to your waist as he walked you further and further backward, obviously having your apartment memorized like the back of his hand, and lifted you against the wall. You let a whine escape into his mouth, his facial hair burning so good against you as you did, and he pulled away with a groan that sounded like he was near pain. 

“Tell me Y/N,” he whispered, breathing as hard as he did after raids, “tell me if I need to stop, because I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Your brows creased together in slight confusion, but you whispered, “I will.”

He kissed you again, before sinking to his knees. 

Suddenly, you realized everything he meant, all of it, and an exhale of fear escaped from you before you could stop it. 

His honey-dipped vanilla eyes met your own instantly, mouth formed into an o, and his hands removed themselves from your jeans.

“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, bringing his hands back to your thighs. “I--I’ve never had that before, that’s all. Just scared me.”

You had seen Javier angry before, but this wasn’t that. You’d seen him sad before, sad for you even, but this look wasn’t that either. It was...disappointment. That was it. Disappointment. Disappointment and resentment. 

“You haven’t?” he whispered, massaging your thighs. 

You shook your head. “No. I’ve asked for it, but--”

“And so you will have it,” he said, and practically ripped your jeans in two. Your underwear came down with it, and you were suddenly bare. The A/C hit you, igniting chills down your freshly-shaved legs, as well as the sweat from your kiss freezing its heat against your skin, and you were tempted to cover yourself completely. 

But Javier was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. 

He was kneeling there, examining your body like an artist to his sculpture, as if he...as if he might...

You wouldn’t go there. Not yet.

“Y/N,” he groaned against the skin of your shin, kissing all the way up to your pulsing core, “I think I’m dreaming.” 

And then he dove in. 

You had experienced pleasure before--quick fucks, your own hand, maybe even making love--but one lick of Javier’s tongue, one scrape of his moustache against your soft skin, one grip of his hands against your ass, and sparks brighter than the ones from his tire clogged your vision. 

You were in heaven, or maybe hell, whichever one had an eternity of this.

“Javi,” you whimpered as he mapped you out like the expert he was. Tunnels of fire shot up your thighs to your lower back causing it to arch, only pressing his mouth against you harder. Your right hand gripped his hair while your left gripped his leather jacket, your mouth could not keep itself shut, and tears burned your eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed right there--

“Javi, don’t you--don’t you dare stop.”

He pulled away from the obscene noises his mouth was making against you and said, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He ate you out for what had to have been hours and seconds. It felt endless yet not enough. Never enough. He finally worked his fingers up to you, entering you like butter, and another pathetic whine came from what had to have been you. You couldn’t even recognize yourself.

“Javi please--” you wheezed, your fire burning you alive, “I’m right there.”

“I feel it baby, I feel you,” he whispered against you, licking his lips. “Just a bit longer.”

He ate and ate and ate. You were there, then you weren’t, you were screaming, then silent, on the brink of release, then almost numb. He was etching his sculpture effortlessly, hitting you exactly where he wanted you to curve. 

You never wanted anything else that wasn’t him, that wasn’t this, him on the floor, your spine against the wall, his face between your legs.

Finally, your fire caught enough for you to grip his hair the way you had discovered he liked, and he kept going. You were there, right on the edge, your fire coiling inside you--

“Come on hermosa, come on,” he whispered against you, mouth dripping with you, “let me feel it, give it to me.”

And you did, so good it hurt.

Your back curved against the wall and sweat dripped down your shirt as he wiped you clean, licking from your chins up to your clit, fully wiping you down. With your heartbeat finally slowing you could hear more of the noises he was making.

He was nearly as pathetic as you.

Finally, you pulled his face up from between your legs and pressed his forehead to yours. His breath was a mix of nicotine and you, and his moustache was nearly damp. His cheeks were reddened as well as his neck, and his eyes...

...you had never seen them more black. 

You felt your way around his body, the two of you once again falling into the rhythm of saying everything and nothing, and your fingers traced their way to his bulge completely soaked. 

He didn’t—

You looked up at him, shock surely present on your face, and he immediately kissed you harder than he had all night. His mouth was wet and tired, but still giving you everything you wanted. Ever the hard worker. 

He pulled way to kiss your hairline and whispered, “Call me Javi from now on. I like it.” 

And with that, he was backing out of your apartment, away from you, a bead of you still dripping down his chin as he closed the door.

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not working/not present. If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

@leahkenobi​ @lovesbiggerthanpride @paintlavillered @xocalliexo @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @thesmutslut @untitledarea @aninnai

[dokifluffs]

Pregnant | Osamu, Kenma, Akaashi, Sakusa

Pairings: Osamu X Reader (female), Kenma X Reader (female), Akaashi X Reader (female), and Sakusa X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff!!! Pregnant reader!!

Author’s Note: im having some v domestic vibes and baby fever so might as well share it with you all too! Happy reading~ 

Warning: all post time skip! Pregnancy (duh)

Pregnant | Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Atsumu

Osamu: 

Crickets chirped into the darkness of the clear summer sky, stars twinkling as far as the eye could see as his keys jingled in the door, the cool air conditioning greeting him as he stepped in

The plastic bag of steaming hot onigiris rustled with every step and move he made

You sent him a text asking if he could bring home some onigiris, craving for some especially since you had been home all day while he was at work before he would have to take off on maternal leave when your arriving son would be brought into the world

The kitchen lights were off but the living room lights and tv were still on playing a random house hunting show

He approached your sleeping body, laid on you side with a pillow in between your legs, your arm draped over the side of your belly, the other acting as your pillow  

He set the bag gently on the table and knelt down in the space between the table and the couch right in front of you

“Y/N, honey,” Osamu’s voice was as gentle as a summer evening breeze, the kind that just made anyone feel good as they relaxed on a grassy hill, taking in view of the colorful sky as the sun set in the distance

“I’m home,” he leaned close and pressed a kiss to your forehead

Seeing you after being away all day, it made him wonder what you did at home all day, how bored you must be, how tired you must be

He caressed your cheek, tilting his head to take your sleeping face at a better angle

“Y/N,” his voice was silky and light in a quiet singsong way, almost humming your name while speaking it as he grazed the back of his fingers over your plush, smooth cheek

You reached your hand from your belly to his, a small smile pulling at your lips as you brought in close to your nose and took a deep breath

What he did not expect was you biting into his hand

“Y/N, honey, wake up.,” he laughed as he carefully shook you awake, trying to pull his hand back

It didn’t hurt, more like you were nibbling on him but this was one, if not most, bizarre thing you had done in all of your pregnancy

“‘Samu~ welcome home,” you woke and smiled sleepily, reaching your arms up as he leaned in to meet you halfway

He helped you sit up and opened the bag of onigiris, some new and not even on the menu yet, before you could even ask about them

You sat close, leaning into his side as the two of you ate, the tv on more of a background sound before he turned it off, giving his undivided attention

“This is so good,” you spoke, mouth partially full with one of the new onigiris, your craving being satiated as always provided by your loving husband, Osamu

“Are ya sure?” He asked, a little serious but mostly joking. “It didn’t feel that way when you were chompin’ on me earlier.” He stuck his hand out with the lightest marks made by your teeth moments ago. “Were ya that hungry?” He rubbed your shoulder with his hand, taking another bite of his own onigiri

Your eating came to a cease, laughter coming out as you set your onigiri down in your lap to take Osamu’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” you said totally unbelievable with all the laughter and giggles erupting from you, it could only make Osamu smile himself hearing your laughter

He didn’t even realize how long he had heard it but it felt so good, it felt nostalgic that made him love you even more

“Did it hurt?” You traced your finger over his skin, looking up to him

“Nah, I’m jokin’, eat.” He traded his onirigi to his other hand so he could hand you yours from your lap

It was your craving after all

The two of you ate one after the other, sitting comfortably side by side as if time didn’t exist

It didn’t take long at all before the bag was empty but the two of you stayed put in the living room with both hungers satiated

The room filled with a comfortable silence as as your bodies melted together

Your hand rest over Osamu’s as he rubbed your belly, reality setting in for him, and even you, for the nth time since you announced your pregnancy

This was really happening

You were his wife, you were going to have his child, both your love for each other in a new life

He was going to have you by his side just like this and you were going to have him, just like this

And one day, there will be a tiny pair of feet in between and he couldn’t wait

Kenma: 

Your steps sounded louder and louder as you went down the stairs, feeding the insecurity of your looks now that your belly was swelling bigger as time went on, days and weeks, months passing to your due date to the newest addition of your family with Kenma

A new Kozume brought to the world :)

Time was ticking

The hem of your oversized t-shirt tickled your thighs as you walked waddled toward Kenma in the living room, the wooden floors creaking with every step, it just poked and prodded at your insecurities

You paused right in the middle, the couches a few strides away but you couldn’t move another step

The sight of your body in the tv was the cherry on top- your plumped up body, the clear weight gain, especially your stomach although you were pregnant

But still

You felt so much bigger, you even stayed off of social medias seeing your old pictures and your recent ones families had taken, posting them

The difference was so great, it made your heart race, a chilling panic ghosting through your body, raising goosebumps over your arms

“Y/N?” Kenma’s voice pulled your mind out of the clouded thoughts of your mind. “What’s wrong?” He paused his game, standing to his feet, over to you in his comfortable sweats and kodzuken shirt with a simple white aesthetic that was eye catching but not overbearing

“I’m so much bigger,” you looked to him with glistening eyes, visually upset over your weight gain from pregnancy but it was bound to happen to everyone who got pregnant. “I’m so ugly,” you felt disgusted, your voice cutting off at the end and you wanted to turn away, head back upstairs, and hide under the covers until tomorrow

“I guarantee you that you are not ugly,” he rubbed his finger to the back of your hand on your belly, a little thing he did as he asked “permission” to hold your hand before he took it into his own

“Come with me,” he led you over to the couch he sat at earlier, the gray leather couch

He sat leaning onto the arm rest and some pillows, his legs spread open and patted the open space between

“I won’t fit,” you shook your head, completely sure you were way too wide to fit in between Kenma’s legs

Kenma was very much a stick, pretty thin, not too much taller than you but this just seemed impossible for you, especially since it felt like you were double his weight and width despite it being not true at all

“You will,” he reassured

You hesitated before sitting down, biting back all your thoughts and reasons as to why you should sit somewhere else or you needed to be anywhere else so you didn’t have to feel this way

But Kenma was right

His legs were own both sides of you and he eased your back to his chest

“Wait, Kenma, no-“ you tried to sit up, only to unable to because of your belly

“I’m too heavy.” Heat rushed up to your head, your want, no, need to leave eating you from the inside

“You’re not. Relax with me tonight.” He brought his arms around your body, handing you his personalized switch with animal crossing opened knowing this was one of your favorites

“Just play,” his voice was soothing to your ears, calming your heart

As you ran his character around his island, the more Kenma gave you tips, making light fun of the way you played, your thoughts and fears about your body slowly began to dissipate

With your mind wrapped up in the game, the more you let everything go

He was always able to read others and analyze things well, encased in his shell from a young age of being an introvert

But there was something about you, along with Kuroo and Hinata and others, who were able to coax him out of his shell

You were so wrapped up in the game, you hadn’t even realized Kenma’s hands resting on your belly behind yours holding up the switch, occasionally rubbing it as he let out a gleeful hum with his chin resting on your shoulder, watching you play, pointing out things you may have missed or advice on what you could do to maximize profits

Akaashi: *S/N* = Story Name 

Akaashi’s hand was soft in yours as you excitedly led him up the stairs toward the finally finished nursery

He, along with the help of your father, painted the room a light beige color and when the paint finally dried, brought in all the furniture like the cribs, changing station

All that was left was for you to decorate it as much as you wanted and you absolutely made sure he saw none of it until now

You opened the door revealing a complete nursery, he didn’t know where to look first but most notable was the mobile above the crib- little owls hung and when turned on, they rotated in a circle that made it seem like they were flying

“Push that button,” you stood right beside him, holding his arm, your heart pounding in your chest out of excitement

And that was when he heard it- the lullaby from a music box he had gotten you when he proposed to you a couple years back. And here it was, a tune that you two’s child will be growing up hearing

The sound of the device was so soothing, it made akaashi feel like he was just meeting you last week and getting down on one knee to propose to you yesterday

“It’s our song, Keiji,” you rest your head on his shoulder. “And it’s going to be theirs.” You brought his hand up to your belly as he turned to you, his gaze never leaving you, his eyes trained to your smile as you looked down to your bump and the feel of his touch on you

The way your eyes shimmered when you looked up, the same smile he could never get tired of in his life, it made his heart swell so big in his chest

He leaned his head close and cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours. He had to show his love for you, to thank you for being with him in this life, thanking whoever or whatever brought you to his life

You certainly changed it and he wouldn’t do anything to change that

“What was that for?” You laughed, stealing another small kiss from his lips as he pulled away, his sea green eyes as enchanting as always when he opened them

“The song reminded me how much you truly mean to me, my love.”

It felt like you were in high school/ university all over again- his simple, straight-forward words that were always able to reduce you to a blushing mess

“What should we read them tonight?” Akaashi smiled as he knelt down in front of the little shelf filled with children books, mostly gifts from his and your mother, as you sat back on a small couch adjacent to the crib

“Anything,” you chimed from behind

With that, Akaashi chose S/N and took his seat beside you. You draped your legs over his and rest your head on his arm as he opened the book and began to read the story

It was as clear as you remembered from your own memory, the images and scenes from your own childhood playing so vividly in your mind

Akaash’s voice was so smooth as he read aloud, voicing the character(s) with ease, it naturally made you a bit lethargic yourself hearing this story

Guess bedtime stories still worked even tens of years later

As the story came to an end, as Akaashi read over the happy ending, his story came to a stop as you raised your head, gasping

“What, what is it?” He suddenly set the book to the table beside it as he sat on the edge of couch, turning to you as you stared down to your belly. “Are you hurt?” He began to grow a bit frantic, his panic growing when you didn’t respond

“No, no, no, Keiji, the baby moved,” you looked up to him, your smile slowly spreading on your face, melting away his fears as relief washed over him

“Look feel!” You snatched his hand and placed it on your belly and it was true

The little baby moved inside of your belly, kicking the side of your tummy right into Akaashi’s hands

The doctor suggested to begin doing activities with the baby such as well as movement being something that was going to happen soon

But neither of you thought so soon

You were wide awake at this point as you felt your child move inside, a sensation you’ve never felt before, only seen in videos

“Hi, baby,” you spoke to you belly, a tear escaping from your eye as you looked up to Akaashi, your love for him and the two of you overflowing. “We’re your parents,” your voice quieted down to a mere whisper

The two of you sat astonished watching the little movements that lasted for about a minute, your hands never leaving each other, staying on your belly

This was real, this was your reality, your life with the one you loved so much

And he loved you with every bit of him, he couldn’t imagine what he would do in another life without you

Sakusa: 

It felt like your nausea combined with your cold was going to be the end of you if not the constant kicking from your daughter in your belly at your organs and even your ribs some times

You winced in your seat on the couch, hand over your belly as you took deep breaths through your stuffed nose through pain on top of all the things that was going through your body

Sakusa felt his heart drop beside you, wearing double masks over his face to make extra sure he wouldn’t catch any of your germs from your cold and morning sickness

“Another kick?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded your head, pushing though it. “I feel cold…” you closed your hands around the extended sleeves of the oversize sweater you wore, leaning closer to Sakusa

He tried not to mind this too much but it was like an irritating itch that wouldn’t go away, the fact how you hadn’t showered or anything today yet making it execrable for him

“How about a bath then?” He hesitantly rubbed his hand over your clothed shoulder but got over his lifelong phobia for a second

You were going to be by his side for the rest of his life. He had already seen and touched every bit of your body

You were bearing your guy’s child. This couldn’t go on forever

His touch was so simple, so light, it fed a hunger for him you didn’t realize you had deep inside but at the same time, it took you by surprise

The Sakusa you met years ago wouldn’t even sit or stand, let alone breathe, within two to three feet to anyone and years later, after marriage, and now with the start of a family, he was climbing the obstacle of his fears step by step

He knew, he told you with his own words he was never one to share a loving touch or caring words. He wanted to, god he wanted to so badly to let go of his cares and worries and fears but he couldn’t. It was etched into his skin and body, imprinted for his eyes and mind to constantly see and think about

But he wanted this to change. He wanted to do and say so many things to you to show his love that he deeply felt for you, it moved him and tore him on the inside

“Yes please,” you nodded

Sakusa had you walk in front of him, making sure you didn’t lose your balance going up

He took care of everything, adding soaps to the bath at the perfect heated temperature that would be perfect to soothe you as well as take care of some germs

Steam arose from the bubbly water

The two of you took off your clothes and he was the first to get in, his muscles instantly relaxing with the therapeutic temperature

You followed suit, feeling the subtle creeps of awkwardness

Again to your surprise, Sakusa took hold of your shoulders and carefully leaned you back into his chest with his legs crossed loosely beneath your legs

He brought his arms under the water, his hands looped around your abdomen and found their place on your belly

As soon as his touch was on you, you took in a sharp inhale, jolting in the water that created a little wave among the bubbles floating

“She’s been so active today,” Sakusa commented as he rubbed his hand in a circle on your belly, the other holding your hand as you gripped onto him through the pain

“Mmhm,” you gave a pained hum, eyes shut as you continued to breathe deeply

Sakusa could see the clear pain you were in, all the nausea and emotions that were all pent up in your body, it made guilt prick at his heart as he imagined all the times you probably wanted to reach out to him so he could hold you to help you though this but refrained

He could see your figure so clearly in his mind, reaching out but pulling back

Enough was enough

He pulled his arm from the water with a prominent splash and took off his masks, setting them neatly to the side

“I’m sorry you’re going through all this pain, Y/N.” Sakusa leaned close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, stifling his obsessive phobia internally. “Please never hesitate to reach out to me… I want to be a better husband for you…” He admitted

It felt so good to say this- it felt better than washing his hands or putting on a new mask

“I’ll be better,” he vowed more to himself than you

“Omi, it’s okay but thank you. I won’t.” You rubbed your hand over his forearms under the water, your chills from earlier long gone now  

It was like magic

With Sakusa’a hands rubbing your belly, it was like your daughter sensed this and her kickings finally ceased for the rest of the bath

“She’s not even born yet but she’s already daddy’s girl,” you leaned your head back to his shoulder, smiling tiredly to Sakusa as his lips mirrored yours

“You’re my girl now and forever, though. She’ll just be my little one,” he leaned close and pressed his lips to your forehead

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan@turquoiselace​ @macaronnv  @oxmaddy​​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101​ @abcdaichi​ @oyasenpai​ @kaaidalupita​

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - part 2

Double feature this week. Here we go with part 2. Rowan takes another step on the path of recovering his life.

Also, we get to meet the kids <3

------

When Aelin got home that night after her shift at the hospital, she was tired and not just from the long hours spent in OR. She was tired in her soul. Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts at bay while operating, but as soon as she was out they came back. It had been hard to fight the urge to go and see him again. He wanted space. That was clear so she just went home instead.

Once she crossed the threshold, laughter welcomed her. Her kids sounded happy.

She shed her coat and removed her shoes and followed the happy sounds.

Walking into the kitchen she found her mother cooking and Thomas helping her setting the table and little Freyja banging her plastic cutlery on her high chair. She was a shy girl but would become alive and loud when she was hungry. Just like her mum.

“Mama!” Shouted her daughter as she spotted her.

“Mum,” Thomas echoed his sister and ran to her, hugging Aelin at her knees “hi my darling, how are you?” She kneeled at his height and ruffled his blonde hair.

“Helping grandma cook.”

“Food.” Shouted Freyja who got agitated trying to get the attention of her mother. Aelin went to her daughter and lifted the wee girl in her arms “hi my love,”  and she snuggled her head against her mother’s chest.

“Hi mum,” said Aelin to Evalin. The woman stirred something in the pan and turned to her daughter “welcome back, darling.” She said and her gaze turned worried at her daughter’s tired expression.

Aelin shook her head, knowing what her mother was about to say “later,” she added. She did not want to talk about Rowan in front of the kids.

“Come on Tom, sit at the table. Dinner is ready.” On his grandma’s orders the boy climbed on his chair and started eating his meal.

Aelin joined them a moment later, all changed in house clothes and sat at her daughter’s side.

Thomas was three and had just started learning how to use a fork properly. They would cut the food for him and he would try to use the utensil. Rowan had been teaching him. A pang of sadness hit her and pushed back the tears, now it was not the time. She would feed Freyja who was only eighteen months old.

“Did you help grandma cook?”

The boy nodded while taking a bite from his fork and gave her a big smile. His green eyes lighting up with joy. Eyes just like his father’s.

“Aelin, let me feed Freyja. You have your dinner. You haven’t touched it yet.”

Aelin shook her head “I am fine. It can wait.”

Truth was… she felt nauseous and that feeling had nothing to do with being pregnant. It was fear. Terror of losing Rowan. Terror that he would never recover his memories and her kids would be left without a father and her without her soulmate. She almost lost him once. She would never forget the day she got the call from the hospital. Those horrible moments were forever etched in her memory.

Later on that night, once the kids were in bed Evalin joined her daughter on the sofa and brought her a chamomile tea.

“The kids are asleep. What’s troubling you?”

Aelin sighed and her hand went to her stomach “Rowan woke up.”

“Today?”

She nodded in confirmation and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder “I had just left the OR when I got a page from his doctor. I went to his room and he was awake,” a loud sob broke from her lips “he does not remember me or the kids.”

Evalin pulled her daughter closer and hugged her knowing the pain she had been feeling for the past month “Yrene had told you it might happen.”

Aelin nodded slightly “I didn’t think it could hurt that much. He had no idea who I was. He doesn’t remember our kids.” Her sobs turned into proper crying “I am so scared, mum. So, so scared.”

“I know, darling.” Evalin kissed her daughter’s head “you will have to be strong a bit longer. Does the doctor think he will regain his memory?”

Aelin gave her a small nod “but it might take time and what if he realises that he doesn’t want us in his life anymore?”

“Rowan loves you and the kids madly. The road ahead might be bumpy but he will come back.” A ragged breath escaped from Aelin. She hoped her mother was right, because if she was not she doubted she would survive loosing him a second time.

*

Rowan woke up the next morning with an horrendous headache. He had a fitful sleep and his thoughts had been stuck all night on her. Aelin. His wife. At her side two small shadows representing their kids. In his mind he had this picture of him holding someone, the smell of lemon and verbena strong around him. But he was sure it was more a feeling than an actual memory. He had woken up all of a sudden and hadn’t been able to fall asleep properly since. His body recognised the other one. 

A nurse brought breakfast and of one thing he was sure. He hated hospital food. Which led to another series of questions. What did he eat for breakfast? Was he a good cook? What was his favourite food?

Reluctantly he finished the food on his tray and decided to kill the boredom by watching tv. According to the news it was January and the meteorologist were warning all the citizens of Terrasen of a snowstorm warning.

He was so bored watching the news that he felt glad when Aelin knocked on the doorframe “Mind if I come in?”

He shook his head “is tv always this boring?”

Aelin chuckled and for a second she saw a glimpse of him. He always hated tv. The only reason they had one in the house was because she had pestered him about it “yeah. You find reading more interesting.”

He switched off the television and faced her “I am…”  he sighed “yesterday… I was overwhelmed. It was… it still is too much.”

“I know,”said Aelin trying to suppress the instinct to touch him. Not until he was okay with it.

“Tell me something about me, about my life. Us… anything.” He started, eager to know more. He needed it “do I like breakfast?”

Aelin laughed “you do, and you are a great cook. On Saturdays you always make us pancakes and let Thomas help you flip them.” She smiled at the image. Thomas on his knees on a chair beside his dad.

“You are a healthy eater so you tend to scoff enormous quantities of fruit and veggies while complaining about my crazy dietary habits.”

She was dying to show him pictures of the kids but decided against it. One step at a time. Let him become familiar with the idea of being married first.

“You are a lawyer. A kickass one at that.” His green eyes were trained on her “you and Lorcan opened your own practice. After graduation you two got a job in a fancy company but eventually got tired of dealing with rich bastards and opened a firm that deals mostly with family law but also offers legal support to us common human beings.” She had been so proud of him. The big job had left him miserable and with very little time to live. He had been stressed and after two years he had realised that the huge salary was not worth it. Lorcan had followed him and together they had started their new adventure. They had started small snd simple, but slowly as they took in more cases they had to start hiring more people and the firm had gotten bigger and successful.

“You love hiking, nature in general and winter. We are both in love with theatre and on our first date you took me to a play.”

Rowan looked at her and that tug in his chest came back for a visit.

“We have been married for seven years and you proposed at my best friend’s wedding. We were dancing and you asked me what if we were the next ones to do that? Then you went on one knee and asked me to marry you.”

He kept listening, adding some more pieces of info to what he had gathered so far. And the more Aelin spoke the more that connection he had felt the day before grew stronger.

“What type of doctor are you?”

“I am the chief of paediatric neurosurgery and I work two floors above this.”

Rowan took a deep breath and asked a question that had been burning in him since she has appeared “do you have any photos of us, of the kids?”

Aelin felt like crying and extracted her mobile phone and scrolled through her huge quantity of photos “This is Thomas. He is three.”

Rowan looked at the boy and saw a blond mop of hair just as golden as his mother’s and two striking green eyes just like his. In the photo the boy was laughing while he held him in his arms.

Aelin swiped and the image of a little girl appeared and he gasped. There was no doubt that she was his daughter. Her hair was silver as his and even her eyes were the exact copy.

“She is so much like you.” He noticed the smile appearing on Aelin’s face. While she talked about their life her face had lit up and in front of him he had the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Probably. He wasn’t sure but Aelin took his breath away.

“Are we happy? As a family?”

Aelin nodded without even thinking about it. They were, she had no doubts about it “Yes. We wanted a family, kids. It was our choice.”

Rowan nodded and wanted to believe her, needed to believe the passion and the love in her voice.

“I need time.” He said quietly, averting his gaze from hers for just a brief moment “This is a lot that I need to process. I will need time but I want to hear more.”

Aelin sobbed and grabbed her backpack and extracted another mobile phone “this is yours. It survived the crash because you used a military grade protecting cover. I just charged it. The password is 0305.” She gave him the mobile “it has photos, texts. Everything is still there, maybe it will help.”

Aelin looked at her watch and stood “I have to go, I have a surgery in two hours.”

Rowan nodded.

“You can text me if you want. My contact is under Fireheart.”

He looked at the phone and then at her “will you come back?”

Aelin took a step toward him and kissed his silver hair as she did the previous day and then nodded.

She waved at him and disappeared through the door.

He moved his attention to the phone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Once he did it asked him a pin code and he entered the digits she had told him.

Once the phone was unlocked he was welcomed by a picture of him, Aelin and the kids on a beach. He had Freyja on his shoulders and was laughing as she patted his head. Aelin was holding Thomas potato sack style and the boy was grinning. With his fingers he traced her face and then went looking for the photo album. Before opening he hesitated. His life, his memories were there and he was scared.

There were picture of his wife. Plenty of them and she always had an amazing smile. Of one thing he was sure:Aelin took his breath away. Photos of their kids and he spotted one of what he suspected was a newborn Freyja. He held the little bundle in his arms while Thomas was at his side staring at his sister. He saw happiness, he saw joy, but most of all he saw love. Deep love that bound the four of them. Aelin had not lied. They seemed happy. He found photos of what he assumed were friends but he could not tell who they were, he hadn’t covered that part yet. Accepting the idea of a wife and kids was hard enough. He was not ready yet to add more people. The mere idea made him feel dizzy.

He was getting tired again even if it was only morning, but he pushed through and found the app with the text messages and went to look at the ones from Aelin and he read the last one she sent him go and win your case and then tonight I will show you how proud I am of my sexy lawyer.

He scrolled back through the thread and read random texts between them until he went back a few months and saw a text with a picture attached.

You are away for work and I miss you. I went for my first proper check-up and I am proud to share with you the picture of the new member of our family. The image was greyish and grainy but the message was clear: Aelin was pregnant again.

He placed the phone on his lap and closed his eyes calming the sense of panic overwhelm him.

And with his eyes closed he tried to remember.

[slashbitch2]

Prove Me Wrong, Darling

who doesn't love a bit of enemies to lovers? :)

You and Agatha had never gotten along. From your perspective, it was due to a conflict of interest. Whereas if you asked her, she'd likely say it was a conflict of intelligence, or something else insulting along those lines. Though the issue you had with the fellow witch wasn't her attitude, rather her underestimation of your powers. It'd started with her massacre of the Coven, when she'd attempted to end your life alongside the others. But to her surprise, you'd been strong enough to defend yourself and escape. Since then, there'd been several instances where your paths had crossed, and you hadn't let her live down the failure yet.

This particular occasion was different, however, as Agatha had asked you for help.

It'd taken everything in you not to immediately mock her. But you knew that she'd leave without further explanation if she felt ridiculed, and you were just dying to know what had made her stoop to your level. So, you'd swallowed your pride and attentively listened to her proposal. It'd mostly featured the repeated phrases "immense power" and "huge source of energy," and even a confession that she was baffled by the cause, which only intrigued you further.

Although you weren't too interested in accumulating anymore power, the opportunity to be on level ground with Agatha was too good to pass on. You confessed this to her upon accepting the invitation, which resulted in an unimpressed eye roll. Regardless of her annoyance, you left that same day, arriving in the least expected location. A quaint town in New Jersey.

"Well," You landed behind Agatha in the middle of a road, surveying the picturesque, colourless neighbourhood. "isn't this lovely."

She pursed her lips, looking round similarly perplexed. "Lovely?" She echoed. "This is like every outdated suburban stereotype rolled into one. Like some kind of picture-perfect movie set."

Her condescending comment jogged a memory. "That's what I was thinking of!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands enthusiastically. "Did you ever watch that sitcom- from the 50s? The Dick Van Dyke Show?"

"From the title alone I'm glad I didn't."

"Seriously, it's practically the same setting." You moved to stand directly in front, forcing her to look at you.

"So, what you're saying is someone used this insane amount of power just to recreate their favourite TV show?" She quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your theory.

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"No."

"Anyway." You glanced down at the rather eye-catching ensemble Agatha was currently wearing, then at your comparably casual yet modern clothes. "This isn't going to work." With a wave of your hand, the jeans and jumper combo was replaced by a more period accurate pencil skirt and blouse. Satisfied, you looked up at her expectantly.

Taking it as a challenge, she copied the gesture, managing to both create a new dress and fix up her hair. She smirked, enjoying the chance to show off her superior abilities.

"It's not a competition." You huffed.

She placed a hand on your arm fake comfortingly. "Of course not, dear."

The contact caused you to shiver slightly. It felt as though her touch ignited sparks, though the sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. But indulging in it didn't feel right either, so you were grateful when Agatha removed her hand.

Her face dropped, eyebrows furrowing. Slowly, she swivelled round to point at a house. "There. Can you feel it?"

Following her outstretched finger, you tuned into the energy, focusing specifically on the house. "Mhm." Unsurprisingly, Agatha was right. An unfamiliar energy was being emitted from whoever was inside. You tried to pinpoint what kind of magic the user possessed, but found no trace of any familiar type. "Shall we go meet the neighbours, then?"

"You read my mind." She muttered, narrowing her eyes and offering an arm without so much as sparing a glance in your direction.

You hesitated, taken aback by the kind gesture. It hadn't dawned on you until then that an incredibly powerful being was residing little over 10 metres away, and that you were both about to willingly walk into their house. Looping your arm with hers created a naïve sense of safety.

Neither spoke as you approached the house with faux confidence, only pausing for Agatha to summon a potted plant. A house warming gift, you guessed. The simple gesture of goodwill brought a smile to your face.

"I didn't expect you to be such a considerate neighbour." You whispered.

"Gotta make a good first impression." She reached out to knock against the door.

---

You sighed. Barely an hour spent in this black and white world and you were already bored. Everything was so tiresomely perfect, so normal that you questioned how you'd ever suffered through those terrible old sitcoms in the first place. Sitting in Wanda's living room, the only entertainment was your partner in crime Agatha, or Agnes, as you ought to say.

She was currently flipping through a magazine, tracing the page with her index finger and reading aloud to help Wanda prepare for her anniversary.

"Any notable date you can remember? Special occasion?" She asked the redhead. "You know, to remind him of good times." She winked suggestively, briefly glancing at you with an expression that only you could decipher. She was enjoying flustering Wanda a little too much.

"Oh...I don't know." She trailed off, untrustworthy eyes darting around the room. "Do you two have any memorable date? Maybe I could steal some ideas."

Had the sitcom spell effected you, this would've been the ironic moment in which you spat out whatever drink was currently in your mouth. Fortunately though, you'd declined the offer of tea earlier, and opened your mouth to correct her.

Agatha beat you to it by nudging you with her elbow. "Oh don't we just?" She laughed deeply until you joined in with a forced chuckle.

Deciding to join in with her game, you hummed thoughtfully. "What about that picnic we had? In Salem, remember?" Judging by the way her eyes flashed dangerously, she knew you were referring to that dreadful night with the Coven, serving as revenge for the sudden change in relationship status. "Agnes decided the best time to go on a date would be at night- and in the middle of forest of all places!"

Agnes threw back her head in exaggerated laughter. "Oh hush! I thought it'd be romantic. Besides, you're the one who got us completely lost, dear." She continued, further adding depth to the altered anecdote. "And I'd say it went pretty well regardless." She turned to whisper conspiratorially to Wanda. "So I'll spare you the dirty details."

The three of you fell into easy laughter, only interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. "If you'll excuse me." Wanda stood up to answer. "That's probably Vis."

You took the distraction as respite from forcing such an overly hospitable smile, finding that your cheeks were already aching. For the last few minutes, you'd been aware of a pair of eyes watching you closely, and finally turned to face the witch sitting next to you.

"What?"

Agatha said nothing, her invasive eyes never leaving yours as she took a sip of her drink. You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she thought something through, and dreaded to wonder what she was about to say.

Reaching some form of a conclusion, she leant forward to place her drink down on the table. "Kiss me." She murmured through clenched teeth, momentarily glancing at Wanda, who's back was turned.

"Excuse me?" Out of all the possible things she could've said, this request seemed the least plausible in your mind.

"When Wanda turns round she should see us-" Agatha gestured her hand back and forth as if vocalising what she was implying was too sinful to put into words. Her vagueness was met by your blank stare. "Y'know?"

"No?" You shook your head, unable to comprehend why she'd ask such a thing, untrusting your interpretation of her suggestion.

"Just-" Agatha raised her hands to grasp your face. Hesitated. Then threw them back down into her lap and sighed in frustration. The fact she was struggling to initiate contact was laughable, though eventually you took pity on her.

Leaning forward, you kept your eyes open to watch for Agatha's reaction. You found it amusing that upon realising what you were trying to do, her eyes shut impossibly fast. Satisfied that she was consenting, you raised one hand to cup her cheek and continued to chase after her lips. The kiss was chaste and affectionately mundane, exactly at it should be.

In response, she grabbed your knees and pulled you closer, nipping at your bottom lip. Clearly Agatha wasn't on the same wavelength as you. Her hands shifted further up to your thighs, bringing a startling heat to the kiss. You gasped, virtually melting at her touch. You wanted this. One hand slid to rest on her shoulder. But it wasn't the time or place. You gently pushed against her.

Agatha pulled away, breathless. She scanned your face with pupils blown wide and mouth slightly agape like she'd just reached some new revelation. You were certain your expression mirrored hers.

Wanda cleared her throat somewhere in the distance.

"Gosh, Wanda I'm sorry." Agnes' cheerful voice reappeared as she addressed the redhead without breaking your intense shared eye contact. "But I think we ought to be heading home now." She said unabashedly. Like you hadn't just been caught making out on the neighbour's couch.

"Of course." You could hear the understanding smile in her voice, the slight awkwardness from intruding. "It's been lovely meeting you both."

Summoning an ounce of brainpower, you turned to Wanda. "And you. Feel free to keep the magazine." Then tugged Agatha up and began dragging her toward the front door. For once in her life she went willingly, allowing herself to be pulled along, calling out a last minute farewell to Wanda.

Upon reaching the end of the garden, Agatha wordlessly took the lead. Staying true to her fabricated story, she set a determined course for the house to the right, waltzing up as if she owned the place. A quick flourish of your fingers and the lock was rendered useless. Now the house was yours.

As soon as the door shut behind you, she turned on her heel and pushed you against it. Her mouth quickly sought out yours with a desperation only appropriate in private. Had you known Agatha was this good of a kisser, you would've done this ages ago, but elected not to vocalise the praise knowing she'd never let you live it down. You felt her smirk against your lips, and briefly wondered if she'd somehow infiltrated your mind. You wouldn't put it past her.

As she began trailing kisses down your neck, any concern about the invasion of privacy became inconsequential. You sighed. She rewarded the sound with a nip at your throat. Due to the haze of lust clouding your better judgment, you didn't register the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

"Woah!" A man called from the top of the staircase, presumably the current previous resident of the house. Agatha froze, her lips still pressed up to your neck.

"If you two beautiful ladies hadn't already broken into my house, I would've happily invited you in." The man grinned obnoxiously, slowly continuing down the stairs.

Agatha disinterestedly waved her hand, incapacitating him. The sound of the stranger tumbling down the stairs caused her to let out a short, cruel cackle, before returning to bury her face in the crook of your neck.

"Not big on roommates?" You joked, sliding a hand up and down her back soothingly.

She nipped at your flesh, a little harder this time. "Trust me, he doesn't want to be here for what I'm about to do to you."

Already impatient, you decided to tease her in hopes it would speed things up. "You're all talk and no action, Harkness."

She all but growled as she returned to your lips. Without warning her hands squeezed your hips. "I don't think you're in the position to be insulting me, love."

"Then prove me wrong, darling."

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 8

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Saturday at 5:00, she’s standing outside Mulder’s apartment door. When he’d proposed watching a movie, she questioned whether that was the best idea. She doesn’t have any particular reason for trying to hold off on things getting more physical, other than the lingering subconscious belief that nice girls don’t take their pants off before there’s a ring on their finger. That’s never a policy she’s stuck to in the past, but it still feels like they should wait a bit. Maybe it’s what happened before, their previous indiscretion, that makes her feel compelled to take things slow. Regardless of the motivation, spending time alone at one of their apartments is a surefire way to end up ditching her plans, along with her clothes.

Speaking of clothes, she’s worn jeans and a T-shirt, decidedly more casual than their last date. She’s also put on a black lace bra and matching boy short panties underneath, just in case. She has no intention of Mulder seeing her underwear, but on the off chance she changes her mind, she’d hate for him to see her granny panties. She also shaved her legs and her bikini line, just in case. Taking a deep breath and promising herself she will exercise exceptional self control, she knocks.

When he answers, she instantly feels her resolve falter. He’s wearing jeans and a white T shirt, bare feet, and a beaming smile. He immediately steps forward and slips his arms around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her like she’s just returned from sea. He smells clean and masculine, the stubble on his chin scraping her cheek and summoning a groan from her throat, which she successfully stifles. Finally he pulls back, looking at her with soft, affectionate eyes.

“Hey,” he says with a little smirk, and she smiles at him like they’ve just shared a secret.

“Hi,” she replies, resting her palms on his upper arms.

“Sorry to accost you before you’ve even gotten inside,” he says sheepishly, his arms still wrapped around her, “I’ve been waiting all week to do that.”

She chuckles and he releases her, slipping his hand into hers and leading her into the living room. When they enter, Priscilla stands from her place on the couch and arches her back with a meow, then paces excitedly with her eyes trained on Scully.

“Hi Priscilla,” she greets the cat, sitting on the couch where Priscilla climbs right into her lap and starts purring noisily. Scully laughs and runs her hand from Priscilla’s head down to her tail, smiling as the cat closes her eyes contentedly and drool drips from the corner of her mouth.

“She missed you,” Mulder says as he looks on, smiling with his hands crossed over his chest. “She doesn’t drool for just anyone.”

“I missed her too,” Scully says to Priscilla, then turns to look at Mulder with a soft smile. “I missed both of you.”

They hold eye contact for a beat, then he looks away, walking towards the kitchen. “I was just going to order pizza, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds perfect,” she replies, looking around. Not much has changed since she was last here, though he’s hung a couple new things up on the walls.

“What do you like on your pizza?” he calls from the kitchen.

“Surprise me,” she replies. She’s not a very picky eater and can’t think of any topping that would be a dealbreaker.

“I like your style,” he says in response, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

There is the muffled sound of him calling the order in, then he returns with a beer in each hand.

“I rented two movies,” he says as he sits down close beside her, their thighs touching. “Take your pick between Twister, or Mars Attacks.”

“I saw Twister in the theater when it came out, but I can’t say that I’ve seen, nor did I ever intend to see, Mars Attacks,” she replies with a knowing smile, taking the open beer he holds out to her.

“You gotta see it, Scully, it’s an instant classic,” he says with a tone that she can’t pin down as facetious or not.

“I guess we better watch it then,” she says with an equally ambiguous tone.

———

Six empty beer bottles are lined up along the far end of the coffee table, a pizza box sitting open in front of them. Mulder is lying with his head propped up on the arm rest of the couch, one foot on the floor and the other stretched out in front of him. Scully is lying on her stomach against his chest, her cheek resting on his pectoral and her arms wrapped around his rib cage. It was a slow progression towards them ending up fully entwined like this, her belly pressed against his groin, and he has one eye on the TV and the rest of his attention concentrated on not getting hard.

The movie, which is even more campy and stupid than he remembered, is nearly over, and he hopes she doesn’t hop up and leave right away. Looking down over the crown of her autumnal head and along the narrow expanse of her back, he sees a sliver of skin exposed between her jeans and T-shirt and his cock stirs. He slides the hand that had been resting in the middle of her back lower until his fingertips meet with her bare skin and she shifts a tiny bit, but not uncomfortably. Slowly, causally, while keeping his eyes on the screen, he begins to trace his fingers in slow circles on her lower back. Her skin is unbelievably soft, supple and warm. As his movements continue, he increases the size of his circles, inching her T-shirt up higher to expose more skin, and she pulls in a deep breath and holds it for a moment before she lets it out slowly, concluding with a sound that’s almost like a hiss. She shifts again and her stomach rubs against the swelling lump of his erection, pronounced enough now that she may be able to feel it. He dips the tips of his fingers under the waist of her jeans, running them from one hip to the other, and she lifts her head, propping her chin on his chest and looking up at him. Her expression is unreadable; she definitely isn’t upset, but she’s not smiling, either.

“Your skin is so soft,” he offers, as though it were an excuse for why he’s touching her, as though it would not be enough to say he’s doing it simply because he wants to.

She shimmies up until they’re nose to nose, the friction sending a jolt to his groin, and he resists the urge to thrust up against her.

“I moisturize,” she says plainly, her breath hot against his lips smelling like hops and garlic.

She drags her lips over his softly, side to side, then kisses him fully with a contented sigh. His hands find the small of her back and push up underneath her T-shirt, sliding over more of that silky softness, and he does thrust up against her, though gently.

They kiss slowly, in no rush, his hands cupping her ass and gliding down her sides, up into her hair and then back again. Her own arms are tucked up underneath her, propping her up as she kisses him, though she shifts her pelvis against his erection gratuitously, not in any way pretending that it’s not intentional.

“Mmmmm, Mulder,” she hums into his mouth, flicking at his tongue with her own and then sucking on his lower lip.

“Hmm?” he asks in response, gripping her ass and pulling her firmly against his groin as he pushes it against her.

“I don’t think we should have sex. Not yet,” she croons into his ear, pulling the lobe between her teeth gently.

“Okay, of course, whatever you’re comfortable with,” he answers back with a pained groan, his body not on the same page as his brain. “If you want to stop, let’s stop.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to stop,” she replies, kissing down the side of his neck until she comes to the place where it meets his shoulder. “I just said I don’t want to have sex. There are a lot of things we can do that aren’t sex.” She slips her arm free from beneath her torso, snaking it down between them and rubbing it firmly over his aching hard-on.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, flexing his hips wildly as he seeks more contact.

She brings her lips back to meet his, peppering small kisses as she strokes him over his jeans.

“How about,” she begins breathily, “one of us keeps our clothes on.”

“Okay,” he responds, sliding his hands around her hips to find the button of her jeans.

She laughs a little and sits up on her knees between his thighs, just out of reach.

“I was thinking maybe I would keep my clothes on,” she says in a playful tone, though her expression is bashful.

“Oh,” he answers dumbly, trying to piece together what she’s saying. When her hands go to the fly of his jeans he sits up. “Wait, one second, why me?”

She tilts her head with a curious furrowed brow. “This may be the first time in recorded history that a man has objected to receiving rather than giving.”

He cocks his own head at her, mirroring her confusion. “I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong men.”

After a beat, they both break out into ironic smiles, realizing what they are arguing over. She leans forward, crawling up to kiss him.

“If we were keeping score, which we are not, I would say I owe you one, Mulder.”

No matter that it was nine months ago, she’s referring to the one and only other time they’ve done more than kiss. She’s not wrong, but he doesn’t care. He loves making women come; it’s practically a hobby.

He wants to object, but she already has his fly open, her tiny hand slipping underneath his boxers and gliding down the length of him. He groans and she kisses him again, stroking him slowly in the narrow space beneath his stiff jeans. She sits up and tugs at the waistband and he lifts his hips to help her before pulling his T-Shirt off over his head. Within fifteen seconds he’s naked, his ass sinking into the warmed leather of the couch and Scully’s hot little hand cradling his balls.

“Can you take your shirt off?” he asks hopefully, “is that allowed?”

She smiles at him. “Let me consult the commissioner,” she says, then glances up and to the side. “Commissioner says yes,” she finishes, pulling her shirt over her head and revealing a black lace bra, her modest breasts pushed up deliciously within its cups. He feels his cock lurch in response and he reaches up to pull her on top of him, deftly unhooking the clasp and chucking the bra across the room.

She sits up again, perched between his thighs topless, and lazily slides her hand up and down over his length. He stares slack jawed at her pale pink nipples, hardened into rose buds in the cool air of the room, and she gives him a devilish little grin before bending at the waist and taking him in her mouth. The wet heat of her is sudden and jarring, so overwhelming that he closes his eyes against the flashes of white hot pleasure as his hips buck uncontrollably.

She plants her palms on his hip bones to hold him steady and moves up and down at a slow pace, her tongue sliding along the underside of his cock until the head is at her lips, where she swirls it around in a circular motion that makes him see stars. He opens his eyes, watching her through the curtain of her hair as his shaft disappears into her hot little mouth, the pink peaks of her nipples becoming visible at regular intervals. She tilts her chin up slightly and looks at him, meeting his eye before she lowers herself further than she had before, and he feels his head hit the soft flesh at the back of her throat before he slips just a little further, pressing into her pharynx. He stiffens and groans, the sensation different and somehow explicit, like he’s somewhere he’s not supposed to be. His hands hover near the sides of her head, gripping at air as he resists the urge to touch her, to control her movements. When one of them brushes against her scalp, she reaches up and takes it, pressing it into her hair and granting permission. He threads his other hand into her tresses and lets them glide with her as she moves up and down. Her fingernails scrape gently over the papery skin of his scrotum and he feels a tightening, coiling sensation that means he’s close. He lets his head fall back and enjoys the incredible feeling of her tongue hot and wet, her lips firm, her hands gentle. When he’s approaching the point of release, he lifts his head and whispers hoarsely, “Scully, I’m gonna come,” and removes his hands from her head so she can pull away.

She does not pull away.

Instead, she doubles her efforts, sliding up and down fast and firm, squeezing his balls gently and sucking hard on the upstrokes. Wanting to make sure she still has the opportunity to pull away, he tells her again, “fuck, I’m coming,” and she keeps right on pace as an explosion echoes from his balls through his cock, waves of release stealing his breath as he goes rigid and then falls apart in a cascade of expletives, returning his hands to grab a fistful of her hair as she swallows him down, slowing but continuing her movements until he’s soft and no longer throbbing.

She crawls up his body, gently resting against him with her chin on his chest, her breasts pressed against his bare skin, and waits for him to return to Earth. Finally, he settles his gaze on her, on those earnest blue eyes and that pink mouth that he now knows holds the secrets of the universe. He feels like he could cry, so instead he makes a lame joke.

“Did it hurt?” he asks, running his hands over her bare back.

She gives him a quizzical but amused expression. “The blow job?” she asks incredulously.

“No, when you fell from Heaven.”

She rolls her eyes and suppresses a smile as Priscilla springs unannounced from the floor and lands right on Scully’s jeans-clad ass, kneading the flesh a little before curling up for a snooze.

Scully laughs gently, not wanting to disturb the cat. “Is this a thing cats do?” she asks amusedly.

“Not really, you just have a great ass, I can’t hardly blame her,” he responds, and she smiles at the compliment. “You can’t leave now, we’re stuck like this,” he adds. “Priscilla can sleep forever, we may die here.”

Scully shrugs, sighing contentedly. “But what a way to go.”

[lafiametta]

Helnik One Word Prompt: Pregnant, please?

Modern AU, Euro 2020-style!

She had barely made it in the front door and set her keys down on the entryway table before she heard Matthias's voice calling out to her from the living room.

"Nina, is that you? The match is supposed to start in a few minutes."

"No, it's your mistress," she yelled back, kicking her sandals off as she headed down the hallway. "And I'm here to have my way with you."

In the living room, Matthias looked like he had been busy: the coffee table was well-stocked with snacks and beer, and he had changed into the Norway jersey that Nina had gotten him last Christmas. (He actually owned more than one Norway jersey, a fact that she would often tease him about when he got on her case about having so many pairs of sunglasses.)

Instead of joining him on the couch, she stopped and leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to wait any longer to share the news.

"So..." she said, drawing out the word for effect.

"What?" He actually looked a little nervous, which was adorable.

"Inej is pregnant."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. She just told you that, at brunch?"

Nina nodded, walking over to the couch and dropping down next to him. "Due around New Year's."

"I assume it was planned...?"

"She and Kaz had been trying for a couple months," she said, as she tucked her legs up onto the cushions and leaned back against the arm. "Guess they didn't have to wait all that long."

Matthias turned towards her, placing a large warm hand on her knee.

"And how are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling?" she asked in partial confusion. "About Inej being pregnant?"

He shrugged. "She's your best friend. It's going to be a big change. And sometimes things like that make you think about what you want out of your own life." He paused, his gaze softening. "We had never talked about it, whether or not that's something either of us want."

He had a point. They had been together almost a year—although at times it had felt like a whirlwind—and they had never really discussed what they imagined when they thought about the future. Even living together had been more of a practical decision than anything else, as Nina's lease had been ending and she practically spent all her time at his place anyway. But as she looked at Matthias, those blue eyes steadily fixed on hers, she was finding herself becoming more and open to the possibilities.

"I mean, I do want kids... eventually," she said, biting against her lip. "And it's silly, but I guess I always thought I would do it the old-fashioned way: meet someone, travel the world together and commit high-end art heists, then settle down and get married, and after that think about having kids."

He was smiling at her, lips curling in amusement, but still, there was something in his gaze she couldn't quite read. There was little time to decipher it before he reached out and wrapped a hand around hers.

"So why don't we do it? Just, you know, not the art heist part."

"What, get married?" Nina asked, still not fully comprehending what he was saying.

He nodded, his eyes warm and bright and ridiculously hopeful.

"Yes."

"You're asking me to marry you?" She glanced around, incredulous. "We're surrounded by junk food and Heineken and you're wearing that jersey and you're asking me to marry you?"

His face took on an expression she knew well, that little puffed-up mixture of irritation and adoration.

"I was planning on waiting until your birthday. I had this whole idea of going out to a nice restaurant and getting the most expensive bottle of wine, and then we would take a long romantic walk under the stars and I would get on one knee and ask you to marry me." He leaned closer, his big hand clasped tight around hers. "But here I am in this jersey and I'm asking you, Nina Zenik: will you please marry me?"

For once, she was speechless. It was the worst proposal she could have ever imagined—and also the most perfect. But that was Matthias: he was her opposite in almost every way, from his terrible fashion sense to his near-fetishization of punctuality to his insistence that there was only one correct way to fold a fitted sheet. But in the same breath, he was also her missing half, the one place that truly felt like home. And all she wanted in this moment—and forever, really—was to make him as impossibly happy as he made her.

"Yes," she said, unable to repress a grin. "Of course I will, you big idiot."

In one swift move, she reached out and curled her arms around his neck, bringing her lips to his with all the subtlety of a fireworks show. Matthias pulled her in close, the smile on his face a mirror image of her own, and then proceeded to kiss her senseless.

"I can't believe it," she said, once they eventually came up for air. "Inej gets knocked up and I'm the one being proposed to."

"It's a strange world."

"But definitely the best one, I think." Nina kissed him once more, just to be thorough, and then reached over to grab the remote. She switched the TV on before wriggling back into a comfortable spot on Matthias's lap. "C'mon, I bet we still can catch the kickoff..."

[send me a one-word Helnik prompt]

[datleggy]

Post-demise At Hand

TW: mentions of past OD, past drug use, off screen death of character (Alex), grief, anger, misunderstandings 

TK isn’t sure how to react to the news, if he’s being completely honest with himself. 

He learns about the death of his ex through a post on Instagram via an old mutual friend of theirs that he hasn’t been in contact with since even before he packed up his life and moved to Texas. It’s hashtagged: #RIP #gonetoosoon and TK almost laughs out loud like some kind of maniac, because is that all Alex's life amounted to in the end? 

Two half-assed hashtags and a badly edited picture of Alex smirking at the person who took the stupid photograph in the first place. TK remembers that day; Alex had finally passed his drivers test and gotten his license. He remembers telling Alex to smile, remembers his ex boyfriend turning to him, rolling his eyes, saying something like “Why did I bother with this again? We live in New York.” except TK can’t remember what he said to Alex to be on the receiving end of that knowing little smirk. 

The one he can’t stop staring at now. 

“Earth to TK!” 

TK almost drops his phone onto the floor, blinking up at the person waving their hand in his face. “Huh?” 

Judd gives him a curious look. “Been calling you for like a straight minute, kid, you doin’ alright?” 

TK nods. “Yeah, sorry, yeah, I’m good, I was reading an article, I uh, got distracted.” he shakes his head. “What’s up?” 

“Your boyfriend’s downstairs lookin’ for you--” Judd tries not so subtly to peek at whatever it is that’s got TK so enraptured and catches a glimpse of a familiar face, one that gives him pause. 

He frowns. “TK, what the hell? Stalking your ex, seriously?” he blurts the accusation outloud without thinking, which is of course the very moment Carlos and Paul come gallivanting up the stairs, their laughter at something one of them said dying out abruptly. 

Paul’s eyes dart between the two men and he clears his throat awkwardly before motioning for Judd to skedaddle with him. Judd, who couldn’t take a hint if it hit him on the side of the head like a tire iron, simply folds his arms across his chest expectantly. “Well? Your fella’s right over there, so what’re you doing all up in your ex boyfriends business?” 

Paul sighs. Jesus. “Judd. Maybe we should give them some privacy?” Carlos is scarily silent next to him and Paul just knows shit’s about to hit the fan, and he’d rather be far far away when it does happen. 

Carlos swallows hard, wipes his hands against his uniform pants, and says, “It’s fine. I’ll um, I’ll see you at home.” before turning around and going back the way he came. 

“Man.” Paul stares at TK, who hasn’t uttered a single word as of yet. “You’re not gonna go follow after him?” 

Judd scoffs. “And do what? Tell him it’s not what it looks like?” 

TK blinks rapidly a few times, as if coming out of a daze. “I--” His eyes go wide when he realizes what’s happened. “Shit.” he runs over to the edge of the railing to call for Carlos, but his boyfriend apparently bolted, because he’s nowhere to be seen. 

Judd whistles loudly behind him, arms still crossed disapprovingly. “Carlos is a good catch, TK, shouldn’t be messin’ around with him if you’re not--” 

TK whirls around to face him, the look on his face mutinous. “I wasn’t stalking my ex on Instagram Judd! Get your head outta your ass and outta my business!” 

Judd takes a step forward and Paul can see where this is headed; he immediately gets in between the two men, arms raised. “Hey! Enough! You two need to relax.” 

Judd huffs. “I’m not the one tryna step out on my--” 

“Alex is dead.” Saying it outloud is surreal. 

Alex is dead. 

What the fuck. 

Paul and Judd both give pause. 

“What?” 

TK sighs, aggravated, and shows them the post he’d been caught looking at earlier. 

“TK...” Paul gulps. “I’m sorry man.” 

TK nods but doesn’t utter a word. 

Judd cringes. “Crap, I--” He wants to smack his head against the palm of his hand as hard as he can. “I’m such a heel, Jesus TK, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed--I’m so sorry.” 

TK leans his back against the railing and this time it’s his turn to cross his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well...tell that to Carlos.” 

“TK I’ll call him right now and tell him I misunderstood, I swear--” 

TK interrupts him again with a shake of his head. “No, no, it’s better if I just explain it myself.” he looks up at Judd through long lashes and manages a half hearted grin. “I guess I should be happy you respect my boyfriend enough to snitch on my ass?” 

Judd knows TK’s throwing him a bone, but still, he doesn’t feel he can take it. “I do,” he admits. “But that don’t mean I should’ve went ahead and assumed the worst. You deserve better than that and for that I’m especially sorry.” The whole thing with his own father in law stepping out on his Grace’s mother is still messing around with his head, but that was no excuse to think the worst of TK, of all people. 

But TK tells him not to sweat it, he’ll call Carlos and tell him everything, no big, really. And then he asks the two men not to mention anything about any of this to the Captain or to any of the rest of the team, if it can be helped. 

Paul frowns. “TK, it’s not good to try and go through these types of things alone, you know.” 

TK shakes his head. “I’m not trying to, really. I just,” he shrugs, looking a little like a lost lamb. “I don’t really know how I feel about it yet? So I’d rather not deal with everybody’s sympathies right now, if that’s ok.” 

**********************

He calls Carlos but gets sent straight to voicemail every single time and when that doesn’t work he texts him that whatever he thought was going on, there was nothing to worry about, that he would explain if Carlos would just pick up his damn phone. 

Work gets progressively busier after that and TK barely has time to catch his breath, much less to try and get into contact with his boyfriend, and so it’s not until the very end of his shift, hours later, that he’s able to rush home--that is, he thinks sullenly, if Carlos hasn’t changed all the locks on him.

TK shakes his head; Carlos wouldn’t do that. He’s probably stewing though, and that thought doesn’t make TK feel any better as he steps past the threshold and inside. He’s had such a long and tiring day he hasn’t even had time to properly process what’s happened to Alex. 

Carlos has cooked dinner, if the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen is any indication. He’s at the table eating alone with the TV on in the other room for background noise, and he doesn’t even look up to greet TK, only motions towards the stovetop vaguely. “Help yourself.” he mutters. 

TK ignores the food and takes a seat right across from Carlos, leans over the table with a grimace. “Babe, I swear to you it’s not like that. Judd misunderstood what happened--” 

Carlos sets his fork down with a clatter that startles TK into jumping slightly. “Look, I get it, moving in is a huge commitment, it’s scary, I know, but I didn’t think you would--” 

“Please,” TK stops him. “Please let me just explain, please.” he hastily takes his phone out of his back pocket and opens the app. He can hear Carlos sigh above him but it doesn’t deter TK from finding the post and holding it up to his face. “This is what Judd saw me looking at.” 

Carlos reluctantly lays eyes on the photo, his irritation and hurt only peeking when he sees that it’s a photo of TK’s almost fiance. That is, of course, until he reads the caption, notices the hashtags below, and suddenly it all makes sense. He doesn’t know quite what to say, except: “Oh.” 

TK nods. “Caught me by surprise. I um, I haven’t heard from him since, well, you know. So I didn’t really know how to react when I found out and then Judd came up behind me and I mean, you know the rest of the story…” 

“Oh.” Carlos says again, because he’s still trying to process the news. 

“Yeah.” TK shrinks back in his chair and the wounded look of him finally snaps Carlos out of it.  

“Crap,” Carlos groans. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He gets up and rounds the table, kneeling down in front of TK. “I was hurt and I ran off without letting you even get a word in, that was messed up and I’m sorry. Are you ok?” He makes a face at his own question, because of course TK isn’t ok. The man he’d proposed marriage to a little over a year ago now has passed, after all. 

There’s no way he’s ‘ok’. 

“I uh, I don’t know.” TK admits quietly. 

Carlos puts a hand on his knee and squeezes gently. “It’s ok to be sad, Ty.” 

TK shakes his head. “It’s--I’m not. I’m not sad. I think? I mean...it’s not like we were on friendly terms, you know? I’m more surprised I guess, than anything else. He was still so young.” 

Carlos nods solemnly. “How did it happen, do you know?” 

TK clears his throat and scratches at the back of his head. “The obituary I found online said it was some kind of car accident near PA. I didn’t really find out any more details than that, though. The funeral was earlier this afternoon.” 

Carlos blinks. “Oh. None of your friends from New York said anything? Before today?” The fact that TK had to find out through Instagram is probably half the reason his boyfriend is finding it so hard to react properly to the tragic news. 

“I didn’t really bother to keep in contact with a lot of our friends when I left, to be honest. And plus, they were all Alexs’ friends before becoming mine. So he kinda had the right to keep them after the divorce...in a manner of speaking.” TK runs a hand through the greasy locks of his hair and grimaces. “Anyway, I should probably go shower, it’s been a long day and I’m kinda gross.” 

Carlos nods, letting TK worm his way out of the conversation without too much fuss. 

**********************

In the shower TK stands under the spray of hot water and stares blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, irritated by the jumbled thoughts plaguing him. God, he thinks, I could really use a drink right about now. 

What exactly is he supposed to be feeling right now? 

Grief? 

Anger? 

Or perhaps regret. 

It’s not as though TK ever got any real closure with Alex and now he never would. After being rejected by the man and worse yet, told he’d been replaced, TK hadn’t wanted to feel any of that pain and had gone to great and dangerous lengths to make sure he was good and numb that night. 

He hadn’t meant to overdose. But he’d popped a couple of pills initially, so sure that he could control himself this time, that this time it would be different. But twenty minutes later when the two little white pills had done nothing to soothe his aching heart TK thought, what’s two more? And then two more after that, and then maybe two more, and then he’d lost count, but fuck it, if he hadn’t felt better in the moment. 

The pills had worked! He couldn’t feel a thing, his head was blessedly empty and suddenly this giant weight had been lifted from his chest and he could breathe again. Until he couldn’t. 

The water is cold by the time TK steps out of the tub. He dries himself off and slips on a pair of boxer shorts and an old gray t-shirt. 

Carlos is waiting for him in the kitchen with a full plate, reheated, and normally the smell would be appetizing, but tonight it makes TK a little sick. “You alright? You were in there a while.” 

TK nods. “M’good.” 

“Here, sit, you should eat something before going to bed.” he sets the plate down in front of him and TK just stares at it like it’s the first time he’s seen food in a while and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. 

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep. I’m tired.” 

Carlos nods, his lips pursed like he wants to say something more, but instead all he says is, “Ok.” 

******************

It’s nearly three in the morning when TK wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. He’s not sure how he does it, but he manages not to wake Carlos up as he sneaks out of their bed. 

A few minutes later he’s outside in his sweatpants and a hoodie, mindlessly jogging along his usual route. It’s not drugs or alcohol, but running does help. He runs and runs and runs until it hurts and even then, he keeps on running. It’s not until the cramping in his stomach is too much to bare that he finally stops and lets his body rest on a park bench. 

And it’s then that he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and realizes he’s got three missed calls. “Shit.” he picks up immediately, holding the phone up to his ear with a shaky hand. “Hey.” 

“Where are you? TK, it’s almost five in the morning. What’s going on?” Carlos sounds frenzied on the other end of the line and TK can’t say he blames him. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I went out on a run and I lost track of time. I’m headed home now, sorry. Go back to bed.” 

“I can come pick you up, where are you?” 

TK sighs. “Carlos, seriously, I’m within walking distance, don’t worry, I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.” he hangs up without letting the other man get another word in, which he knows isn’t right, but can’t really find it in himself to care. 

His legs feel like jello when he gets up and the trek back to their place is torturous enough to make TK regret telling Carlos not to bother getting him. By the time he makes it home he’s limping slightly and his stomach is in knots. 

The door swings open before TK can even take out his keys, and Carlos is standing there at the entrance looking a mixture of concerned and annoyed. 

TK rolls his eyes and ignores the look, pushing his way inside and kicking off his shoes at the door. “What?” he snaps, when Carlos won’t stop staring at him. 

Carlos frowns. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what? What are you talking about? I went out for a run. You’re acting like I went out to shoot up at a meth lab or something. I was gone for less than two hours!” TK half shouts, his frustration spiking up a notch. 

“Stop shutting me out. I know you’re upset about what happened to Alex, but you can’t just-” 

“About what happened to Alex?” TK scoffs incredulously. “Nothing happened to Alex, Carlos, he died. That’s not something that happens to someone and then they like, get the fuck over it! He died! He’s dead! Gone! Never gonna see him again, didn’t get to say bye or even fuck you to the guy, he just went ahead and died and that’s that!” TK lets out a choked little laugh that sounds more like a cry than anything and covers his face with both hands, tries his best to get his shit together and under control, but it’s no use. 

It’s quiet for a long time and then TK speaks again and it's soft and agonized, “I loved him.” 

And Carlos nods, takes him by the shoulders and leads him to the stairs, where they both sit down and TK buries himself into Carlos, into his safe haven, and his breath hitches loudly and Carlos says, “I know.” and TK lets out a big broken sob. 

“I’m here.” Carlos assures him gently, “I’m here. It’s gonna be ok.”

.

[unbridgeabledistances]

prompt - casual touches/pda bc we don’t see much in the show!

<3 <3 ty so much for the prompt anon! this ask was sent in before the most recent ep (where we were fed ALL of the casual intimacy!) but i wanted to write a little something to maybe hopefully comfort some lingering discontent about the whole non-monogamy thing– so here is a communicative one-shot of ian and mickey discussing their boundaries and processing s5 traumas before 11x07! (w lots of soft touches😌)

--

It was one of those casual, routine evenings at the Gallagher house when Ian brought it up again, a couple of long weeks after that first conversation on the front porch under the streetlights. They were all lounging in the living room during the slow, undefined hours after dinner, when Carl and usually Ian and Mickey would sit hunched around the TV, passively watching some movie or cartoon while they scrolled through their phones.

That night, Debbie and Sandy were having some sort of erratic spat in the kitchen, and the shrieks back and forth were making it hard to hear the crashing and blaring of the action movie that Mickey had picked out coming from the TV’s speakers— after a couple minutes of trying to make out the movie’s dialogue, Carl stood up with a huff and flicked off the TV with the remote that had been shoved between the cushions of the chair in the corner, stretching and standing up to head down to the basement.

“Night, guys.”

“Night Carl,” Ian replied, and then kept looking down at the Instagram feed he’d been circling through for a good hour while trying to tune out Debbie once again shouting at Sandy for “traumatizing” her by keeping secrets. They’d had the same fight almost every night for the past few weeks since Debbie had discovered that Sandy was living in her car, and had been married to some random guy when she was a teenager or some shit like that— Ian honestly wasn’t even going to ask, but he’d heard the conversation enough times to be uninterested enough to drown it out.

Franny was sitting with splayed knees on the living room carpet, playing some elaborate game with Liam’s truck toys and little Lego construction workers, that had been stowed in the cabinet but Franny had somehow dug out a few weeks ago, causing yet another one of Debbie’s conniptions— and finally the voices in the kitchen trailed off, like they always did once Debbie ran out of steam and got tired of victimizing herself.

“Time for bed, Fran.”

Debbie came into the room and scooped Franny up from where she was sitting, trudging up the stairs with Franny in tow and Sandy trailing close behind—

And then suddenly it was just he and Mickey in the living room, pressed thigh-to-thigh and knee-to-knee beside each other on the couch, resting in the rare but comforting weight of the silence.

Mickey was slouched back on the couch, his chin practically touching his chest, playing some game that involved him turning his phone sideways and lazily shooting pixelated zombies. Ian looked over at him for a moment, taking in Mickey’s relaxed face and the solid press of Mickey’s body against his side…

And he had to fucking do it.

It wasn’t like Ian wanted to bring up the conversation again, about monogamy and boundaries and fuck-knows-what-else; but these past few weeks had been hard, like something cavernous was cracking and splintering between them. Their banter had slowly turned less and less humorous, and more pointed and jagged, about who was the breadwinner and who was the “man”; and even though they’d patched it up and built small bridges between them, and had hung off of each other’s bodies at Lip’s apartment the night Ian had brought up the monogamy conversation for the first time, Ian couldn’t help but feel the weight of the things unsaid wriggling and rustling inside him, like a germinating seed about to bloom.

Ian totally understood why, the moment he had mentioned “fucking other people” during that conversation on the porch, he had immediately felt Mickey’s knee stiffen where his palm had been resting on it. There was so much shit they hadn’t talked about—so it made sense that Mickey had immediately bristled when Ian had brought this all up the way that he did, and had put himself on high-alert and fled the scene the moment Carl came through the gate.

It would be so easy to just… not bring it up again. But Ian knew they needed to talk it out, and needed to let out all of the questions that were hanging on the edge of his lips like a ticking time bomb. If there was one thing that Ian knew, it was that Mickey was sensitive about this shit; the last thing that Ian wanted to do was crack and fall through the thin ice he was walking on and accidentally push Mickey away if he made some comment about another guy being hot, or if he reciprocated some dude checking him out at Kev’s gym— if Mickey had gotten upset at the fact that he only had 87% of Ian’s heart, some stupid comment that came out of Ian’s mouth before his brain could really process how he knew Mickey would feel about it, then how was Ian supposed to know what was and what wasn’t okay?

The problem was, talking about all of this shit so explicitly with Mickey felt like trying to walk upstream; things with he and Mickey had always just kind of… flowed, and had never been spelled out or agreed upon or set in stone, at least until he was leaving Mickey in prison and they kind of had to strongarm themselves into talking about what they wanted to future to hold. Even with the proposal and the marriage shit, they had just sort of stumbled their way into it, without explicitly needing to sit down and spell it all out. If he was being honest, Ian fucking loved that; he loved that he and Mickey’s relationship was a roller coaster, a high-speed train ride that they didn’t know the stops of. Things with Mickey just happened the way they were supposed to, in a way they never had with anyone else that Ian had ever been with. He remembered Trevor’s goading about boundaries and sex positivity and communication, and how at first it felt like Ian had marbles rolling around in his mouth as he tried to stumble over words like “ethical non-monogamy” and “compersion” and “polyamory”; it felt like he was speaking a foreign fucking language, like he was talking about things he couldn’t quite grasp— and he didn’t want to push Mickey into feeling that way. But as much as he hated it, he knew they had to at least talk about it; there were too many things left unsaid, too many holes they needed to patch up before slipping through one them.

So that’s why, with a gentle creeping of his fingertips from his own lap to rest on Mickey’s upper thigh, Ian said the words into the soft silence of the living room:

“Mick, we’ve gotta talk about the whole monogamy thing again.”

Instantly, in a sensation that was fully reminiscent of that night a few weeks ago, Ian felt Mickey’s torso stiffen beneath him.

Mickey sniffed, then hesitantly pressed his thumb up to his phone screen to pause the game he was playing mid-level. Mickey’s body was still slumped and leaning on the couch, but now there was a new rigidity to the way he was sitting, like he was bracing himself for something. He clicked off his phone and shoved it into his pocket, then looked down at his hands.

“Don’t know why you think we gotta talk about all this shit, man. We already did your thing with the paper and you said you didn’t wanna fuck other people.”

Ian let out a breath, then snaked an arm across the back of the couch so it was just barely touching where Mickey’s shoulders were leaning, just to where he could feel the heat radiating up from Mickey’s body. If he was going to fucking do this, he needed Mickey to be close to him—he needed their bodies to be pressed together a little more than they already were.

“Yeah, but I guess… I never really got a chance to hear how you feel.”

Mickey’s body tensed up again; Ian could feel his shoulders clenching beneath his where his arm was limply strewn across the back of the couch.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian swallowed down the sudden wave of resentment he started to feel that Mickey wouldn’t just say what he was feeling, and took a deep breath. Sometimes Mickey just didn’t know how, and he needed to sit there and acclimate to the airwaves that were bouncing between them before Ian could pull something out of him, or before Mickey could pull something out of himself. Ian let them just sit there, and let himself fixate his eyes on the rise and fall of Mickey’s chest under his tattered t-shirt; and after a moment, he decided to give a gentle nudge, to at least get the ball rolling towards the depths of wherever Mickey’s head was at.

“So do you… wanna fuck other people?”

Mickey made an airy popping sound by smacking his lips together— like he was trying to do anything with his mouth except let words rest inside it, like he was trying to puncture the blanket of silence with a sharp sound. Ian waited.

“Or is it— that you think I want to fuck other people?” He could hear how cautious his own voice sounded, like he was tiptoeing onto uncertain territory, gently coursing into rough and uncharted waters.

Ian felt an almost imperceptible slump work its way back into Mickey’s rigid shoulders. Oh.

He leaned himself closer towards Mickey’s warm body, wrapping his arm down off the back of the couch and directly onto Mickey’s shoulders, feeling the soft bristles of Mickey’s hair pressing up against the crook of his elbow.

“Hey.” Ian tried to keep his voice soft, soft. “I know it fucking sucks, but we’ve gotta talk about this. I don’t ever wanna do shit you aren't okay with.”

Mickey raised his chin, leaning back onto Ian’s arm, and flickered his eyes to meet his gaze.

“You really don’t wanna fuck other people?”

It was the same question Mickey had asked the other night on the porch, the first time they'd had this conversation— but this time there was no bravado to it, no directness or volume like the way Mickey had asked that night with his eyebrows raised. This time he asked in a low voice, a voice that was husky and soft around the edges. Ian squeezed Mickey’s shoulder.

“Mickey, I got married to you. I don’t really know what you thought that meant— but for me, it pretty much means fucking you til the day I die.”

Mickey hesitantly rolled his eyes, blowing a puff of air out of his mouth. “But, like— fucking only me?”

Ian took a deep breath and steeled himself for the messier part of conversations like this, the part where he tried to get Mickey to split himself open. “You’ve gotta give me more than that, Mick. What’re you asking?”

Mickey looked down at his hands again, running his fingertips over a loose thread at the bottom of his shirt. “I don’t know, man. Guys are always droolin’ over you. Just don’t want to hold you back.” Ian felt the rise of Mickey’s shoulders, the breath of air being let into his lungs. “I just don’t wanna not be enough for you, or whatever. Don’t want you to regret shit a couple of years down the line.”

Not be enough for me? If this didn’t feel like a serious and slightly terrifying, fragile conversation to have, Ian could have laughed in Mickey’s face— how could Mickey think that he wasn’t enough for him, when he was the fucking focal point, at the center of everything? Ian didn’t know what words could radiate that out of him, could make Mickey get it— he opted for another squeeze of Mickey’s shoulders, and then migrated his hand under Mickey’s chin and forced their eyes to meet.

“Mick.” He tried to ooze every ounce of certainty, every ounce of resolve that he was feeling, into his voice. “You’re more than enough for me, are you fucking kidding? You’re all I ever think about— if you weren’t enough for me, I wouldn’t have married you. I know what that means, I always have.”

Even saying the words aloud, Ian quickly flashed back to it’s just a piece of paper, to back when Mickey smelled of cheap cologne and bitter smoke in an oversized tux— even then, Ian knew what marriage meant, knew the weight of it, and that’s why Mickey getting married that day tore him apart. Ian wouldn’t have done this, wouldn’t have said “I do” if he wasn’t ready for all of that— so why did Mickey think that he wasn’t?

The tension was creeping back in between Mickey’s shoulder blades. “Took you a while to decide to do that, though.”

Ian paused. They’d rehashed this shit enough times, but it still always stung to think back to when he was too wrapped up in his own shit to think outside of his own spirals of self-doubt, and left Mickey bleeding at the altar in the process. He didn’t know how to put it into words; Mickey had just always been everything, had always been a solid presence inside him, tugging at his heartstrings so tangibly that it made him ache; Ian had a bullshit complex about marriage, but not one about his iron-heavy commitment. Mickey had to understand that by now— but it seemed like there were scars there that still hadn’t been healed.

Which made Ian wonder— where else was this coming from?

Ian cupped his hand below Mickey’s chin again, raising his other hand from his lap and reaching up to push Mickey’s hair out of his face—a gentle touch, a touch to root him and give him something to hold on to more than anything else.

“Hey. Look at me.” Mickey’s eyes met his. “S’there anything else you’ve been holding in about this monogamy stuff?”

Mickey’s eyes flickered downward— and there it was, Mickey’s defenses were being raised, just like they always were at first. But Ian knew how to breach them, knew how to wait it out. He reached his hand downward, intertwining it with Mickey’s limp fingers and giving his hand a squeeze. Mickey dryly cleared his throat.

“You remember that night, before you, uh. You left with Yev or whatever. And you did the porno with that guy.”

Ian felt an ache of awareness rip through his solar plexus, as the words continued to tumble out of Mickey’s mouth.

“It fucking gutted me, man. That and… all the shit with you running off. Not coming to visit me in prison. And I know we’ve talked about it, and I know we’re over it, and I know wasn’t your fault; but I can’t stop feeling like this”—he paused, eyes flickering down at their clasped hands, their pair of silver rings— “that this might be too good to be true.”

Ian felt something hollow ache in his chest. He couldn’t believe they’d never really talked about all of this, never dug this deep, even in the endless blank calendar squares of their days and months in prison together— sure, Mickey had called out Ian’s shit about leaving him over and over again, but he’d never really said the words out loud, never pinpricked Ian’s actions so specifically.

He’d left Mickey, hadn’t he? Even when he didn't mean to, even when it wasn't his fault— that wasn't just going to go away.

A nauseating awareness started to drip through Ian’s veins. He sat frozen on the couch, planted there— not really sure what to say, not sure what words could patch the holes in something solid that he didn’t even realize were there all these years later. While his mind was whirring, Mickey spoke again— he met Ian’s eyes, and this time the iron shutters in his eyes betrayed a trace of pain, just sharp enough for Ian to barely see it.

“Can we go to bed? And talk about all this shit in the morning?”

Ian felt an indecipherable lump in his throat— and he nodded.

**

Mickey had climbed the stairs slowly, and Ian had trailed behind— and now Ian was laying flat in the bed, all changed into a worn tank top and boxers while Mickey brushed his teeth down the hall. Ian propped his upper back on a pillow he had shoved next to the wall, trying to sift through all the emotions that were swirling and buzzing in his head, threatening to pull him under. How was he supposed to fix this?

Mickey turned the corner into the room, lingered in the doorway. He looked deflated, and tired— and instantly, Ian needed to bridge the gap between them, need to feel Mickey warming the empty sheets beside him.

“C’mere.”

Mickey almost comically collapsed onto the bed like a ragdoll— between the conversation downstairs and the few moments they took apart in separate spaces, something small had dissipated, something had turned less brittle and was starting to bend. Ian instantly shifted to his side and wrapped his arms around Mickey, locking his fingers behind Mickey’s head, overtaking his sight line and holding him close in the bed. Mickey gave a half smile— an acknowledgement.

“Hey.” He heard the note of thickness in his own voice. “I’m so fucking sorry. For… everything. Fuck.”

Mickey coiled an arm around Ian’s waist, laying a palm on the small of his back, soaking him in.

“I know. Just gotta give me some time. And we've got all the time in the world, Gallagher.”

Ian breathed out. “Fuck. Yeah.”

He pulled Mickey closer, until Mickey was almost on top of his chest, his face pressed into the crook of Ian’s neck. He listened to Mickey’s steady breath, feeling the curls of it tickle his chin. Ian reached over to switch off the lamp on the bedside table, then pulled Mickey in closer, slotting a leg between his.

After a moment, he broke the silence.

“So. Monogamy?”

He felt Mickey’s chest vibrate with a breathy laugh. “I don’t know, man. What do you think?”

Ian grinned, feeling something fizzle out of him. He prodded Mickey in the side. “Come on, Mick. What do you want? Actually?”                                                     

Ian felt Mickey’s ribcage expand and retract from where he was pressed against him. “I don’t wanna fuck anyone else, man.” Ian breathed out; and he was about to let out a gust of see, that wasn’t that hard, was it— when Mickey spoke up again.

“But I guess… we could talk about doing stuff. Together?”

Holy shit.

Mickey’s words kept flowing, his breath running hot against Ian’s neck as his words floated through the dark room. “I don’t wanna be with any guy that isn’t you. But it might be kinda fun to like— I don’t know, try that shit some day? Like those hot fuckin’ pornos or whatever.” He breathed out a laugh. “Never thought I’d get to try that shit, and probably never will— but it’d be fun... to try? If you ever wanna.” Mickey paused. “But that’s where I draw the fucking line, man.”

Ian barked out a laugh—and instantly felt a weird, warm sense of pride welling up in his chest. This was Mickey asking for what he wanted—this was Mickey letting Ian in, letting him have all of it, and showing that he trusted him despite all the high and lows they’d both muddled through. This was miles beyond what he would have guessed Mickey would’ve been comfortable with, with all of his Terry-inflicted internalized homophobia still thawing somewhere deep inside him— but he was in. It honestly sounded... fucking hot, all the more because Mickey was so into the idea. 

Ian was so fucking glad that they were talking about this— if this was what Mickey wanted, at some point down the line, he would give it to him. He would give him everything.

Ian pressed a kiss to the curve of Mickey’s jaw, just below his earlobe. “God, Mick.”

Mickey just wriggled closer to Ian, almost like he was nervous. “Yeah?”

“If it makes you excited to do shit with other guys together—only together—than we can totally fucking do that. But only if you want to. I don’t need anything else, Mick— you’re all I need. You’ve gotta know that.”

For the first time in what felt like hours, the ice had thawed from behind Mickey’s eyes when he pulled back to meet Ian’s gaze— Ian could make out the glint of light in the darkness. “I know.”

And as he pulled Mickey’s close and pressed the pulse of their lips together, he was sure of one thing: that Mickey belonged to him, and he belonged to Mickey.

Whatever they tried (or didn’t try)—they would do it together.

[karasuno-volley]

KENMA KOZUME + HOW HE WOULD PROPOSE TO YOU

plot : all he wants to do is spend the rest of his life with you, but he has to figure out how to say it first. 

pairing : kenma kozume x fem!reader

warnings : none! post-timeskip

a/n : i had to write this so my mind wouldn’t explode. been thinking a lot about the new parents prompt, so this naturally came from it. reblogs & likes appreciated, no reposting please !! love, volley.

     He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this nervous. Shoyo and Kuroo had tried their best to calm their friend’s nerves, but Kenma had to squeeze his hands together to stop them from shaking so much. They insist that he’ll be fine, that you’ll say yes no matter how well he’s able to articulate his feelings, but Kenma wanted more than anything for this to be perfect.

     Twenty minutes before you’re scheduled to show up, he’s pacing up and down the living room. Hinata watches him pace from the couch, giving him encouragement as best he can. Kuroo leans against the wall, a small smirk on his lips. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much.” The old team captain says with an exhale. “I mean, all she talks about is you.” “Yeah, and all you talk about is her!” Hinata adds. “You two were meant to be together.”

     Kenma runs a hand through his hair, anxiously glancing at the clock. His throat felt dry, and before he could ask Kuroo if everything in the kitchen was ready and to kick both of them out, there’s a rustling of keys in the lock from the door. You open the door to a slightly odd scene: Kenma, looking slightly pale, Hinata smiling just a little too much, and Kuroo watching both of them against one of the walls. The TV was on, a forgotten video game flashing across the screen. “Hi?” You say, though it sounds more like a question. Kuroo straightens up, looking decidedly at Hinata before back at you, a signature smile greeting you. “Y/N! Hey. Sorry, Hinata and I can’t stay long, we have to be up early tomorrow.” You hold up the grocery bags on your arm. “Well, if you want to stay for dinner, I can make more--,” before you can finish, Hinata interrupts, popping up next to Kuroo in a blink. “No! ...I mean, that’s okay! We’ll see you both tomorrow. We can go out for lunch!” You nod, confusion clouding your features as Kuroo guides Hinata out, rather impatiently. “See you tomorrow, love birds!”

     When the door closes and there’s a bit of silence, you move to the kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.” You start taking out ingredients, glancing towards the clock. “Sorry I’m so late. I had to run to three stores just to find that sauce you like.” You huff, taking out the new prized possession, and showing it off to your boyfriend. Finally, Kenma forces an awkward smile. “Oh, that’s good. Thanks.” You pause, attempting to read his expression, but when you can’t, you turn around, joining him in the living room. “Kenma, what’s wrong? You’re not sick, are you?” When you reach a hand out to feel his forehead, Kenma grabs it instead, and then, as if slightly unbalanced, gets down on one knee. You watch for a moment, slightly confused-- you honestly don’t know what’s happening until he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black box.

     Your eyes widen as recognition sets in. “Kenma, what are you--?” “Y/N, I don’t know what to say.” He looks downwards, thumb rubbing the back of your hand, before glancing upwards again. His eyes slowly start to fill with tears as he continues onwards, attempting to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I just know that these last three years have been the happiest of my life. I know so much has changed, what with my job and starting a new company and you starting work and… Well, I just want to thank you for staying by my side. I don’t know how else to thank you, except for…” Kenma shakes his head, and pauses, trying to keep himself as close to the script he memorized as he can: “The bottom line is, Y/N L/N, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing would make me happier if you agree to be my wife. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is: Will you marry me, Y/N L/N?”

     You hadn’t noticed you’d been holding your breath until you exhaled with a shaky laugh, tears falling down your face. “Kenma…” You whisper, choking out the words so fast they come out disjointed, covered in giggles and tears and happiness. “Yes! Oh my god, of course I’ll marry you.” You nod, and watch as Kenma attempts to put the ring on your finger. He worries for a moment he may have gotten the wrong size (perhaps measuring your ring finger while you were asleep wasn’t the brightest idea?) but then it slides on easily after his hands stop shaking. You kneel down with him after your now fiance doesn’t rise, kissing all over his face, tasting his tears and feeling the heat of his blush. Your lips collide messily, fast and easy-- as they have many times before, but this was altogether different. As if your whole world has shifted and changed for the better, and Kenma feels it too. Outside your door, you hear loud cheering from Hinata, and rapid shushing from Kuroo. You can only smile at Kenma’s embarrassed glance, but you could care less. “In my defense,” he mumbles against your lips with a smile, “I did tell them to leave.”

kenma as a parent can be found here & here !!

taglist : empty for now !!

[impala1967dwinchester]

Jensen Ackles: Dinner Date

*Not my gif* 

Pairing: Jensen Ackles X Reader/ Y/n 

Pov: Jensen 

Warnings: Fluff, dinner date, Jensen being cute, was totally thinking of “your man” by Josh Turner while writing this. 

Summary: What happens when Jensen plans an amazing dinner date for the two of you. Will it go to plan, or will Japanese take out be a better choice.  

Word Count: 1,692

Masterlist

Tag list: @akshi8278​

Two weeks ago, Y/n had told me that she needed a night out with me. Actually, it was more like ‘I need a night out with my hubby, hubby!’ So, when she said that I automatically got on the phone with the restaurant I had purposed to her at. A nice chic, but simple restaurant the girl on the phone sounded young and she answered with ‘Hello this is Gisila how can I help you today?’ ‘I’d like to reserve a table in the back of the restaurant for a week from now.’ I spoke.

There were a few minutes of silence and then a response came from my phone. ‘Sure, how many people, time, and last name?’ The young girl asked. ‘Two people, 6:45, and last name Is Ackles’ I answered ‘Okay Mr. Ackles your reservation is all in order. Have a wonderful rest of your day.’ And then click the call was over.  

“Baby, we have reservation for 6:45 in a week at the restaurant I proposed at.” I said across the kitchen island. “Aww, really Ackles. I’m so ready for you and me time.” Y/n said grabbing my hand from the other side of the island. “So am I dear. Now let’s go watch that new movie you’ve been begging me to watch with you.” I said grabbing the bowl of popcorn that Y/n had just popped.  

We walked into the living room; our TV already to press play. This was rare for either of us to be home, and be able to enjoy our company. Y/n was also in the acting business, but she was working on a show that was filmed in Florida, so we often spent most of our time away from each other. Whenever we did get time together, it was nice to spend it not talking about work, acting, but instead spending it doing things that we loved to do.  

Y/n grabbed her enormous white blanket covering the both of us up, and leaned her head into my shoulder. Placing the bowl of popcorn in my lap, looking over at her I asked, “Are you comfortable yet, babe?” “Yes, Yes I am.” She answered shoveling a hand full of popcorn into her mouth. So, I grabbed the remote and pressed play on the TV, and just like always only about 45 minutes into the movie Y/n was sound asleep with her hand draped into the bowl.  

My shoulder damp from her drool, I carefully moved her hand out of the popcorn bowl, placing it on the end table. I then moved her, so I could re-position on her couch and paused the movie before grabbing her and pacing her on my chest. There were many nights were we both fell asleep like this; it was easier than trying to wake her up and drag her upstairs. I had learned that early into our relationship, she liked her sleep, so don’t bother her once she’s asleep.  

A week later  

After the week we both had I know that the both of us were more than happy that we had a reservation set up. Y/n had gotten home from a shopping trip, which this time had gone smoothly not a ton of people noticing who she was. As she walked through the front door, she dropped all but 2 bags. Myself standing in the kitchen, I moved just enough to catch a glimpse of Y/n running upstairs.  

“I’m home, and we have a date remember. So, you should get ready.” Y/n yelled as she walked up the stairs. While Y/n was out shopping I had gone through most of my clothes trying to pick out a nice outfit, unpacking everything from my side of the closet. Trying my hardest to somehow sort through all of the clothes. After only what seemed like hours sorting through everything, I finally had all the clothes in order.  

At that point it was going to much easier to be able to choose what I wanted to wear. I started digging and found a nice un-crimped white shirt, and found a nice pair of black dress pants. Now all I had to do was wait for Y/n to come home and tell me what color tie to wear. And of course, one of my more structured jackets was in the downstairs closet waiting for me.  

It was still early enough in the day where Y/n had enough time to get ready the right way. Another thing I had learned quickly about Y/n she did not like being informed about an event only a few hours before. A main reason why we always made reservations, and she’d then plan according to what would fit around that particular event.  

With what I’d say was 3 hours before we would have to be at our reservations, I slipped into our bedroom. Catching out of the corner of my ear the dress that Y/n had purchase on her shopping trip. A beautiful purple slimming dress that came no less down to her knee caps. I was still in my day attire, so I slipped out of my joggers, my white t-shirt, and into the shower with Y/n.

Unlike the character I played on TV, I wasn’t much of a ladies' man. I had found the love of my life, and she was all I really needed. As I slipped into the shower with her, she said “I was wondering how long it would take for you to get in here with me.” As she massaged the shampoo into her head.  

“Darling, you know you like to see me in the shower with you.” I said sliding my hands down her hips. “Ross! I do love having you in the shower with me, but you know that this” She said pointing down to where my hands were. “we’ll never make it to the reservations.” She spoke.  

So, I removed my hands and switched places with her, washing my body quickly, along with my hair. Kissing her on the lips, and murmuring “love you, dear.” Getting out of the shower. I wrapped the towel around my waist, walking to where my clothes were laid out. Still having time before Y/n would leave the bathroom, I just put on my boxers, and dress pants.  

Walking over to my cabinet, I fished through the varying ties I had collected over the years. I had taken out about 4 varying ties, making sure that two were complimenting Y/n’s dress while the others were questionable at best. After constantly moving the four ties I had figured that it was either going to go with the green or yellow tie.  

Standing there looking like an idiot, Y/n said “Go with the green.” smiling. Throwing the yellow tie into the pile of no’s “Are you sure?” I asked questing if it would really look good together. “Yes, Jensen it will look great, you should probably get dressed some more now.” Y/n said shutting the door of the bathroom.  

Finally, a few hours later, Y/n came downstairs looking just as beautiful as the first day I had met her. She had paired her dress with a pair of black heels, everything was so sleek. The click of her heels banged off the walls as she walked down the stairs. “Hey beautiful.” I said as she walked to the front door, picking her pocketbook up on the way. “Hey handsome. Are you ready to go?” She said smiling. “Yes, do you need a jacket?” I asked.  

Seeing the short sleeves of the dress, “No, I’ll just use yours.” She said winking as she walked out the front door. As I locked our front door, Y/n made her way into the car. The drive to the restaurant was nice, and actually the roads weren’t heavily traffie'd that I assumed that they’d be.  

When we arrived to the restaurant, I left the car running and made my way in, and made it to the front desk before the large group of people came in behind me. “Ma’am I have a reservation for 2 under the name Ackles.” I said “okay Sir... Um what was the reservations under?” The young lady said. “Ackles, Alpha, Charlie, Kilo, Lima, Echo, Sierra.” I said spelling it phonetically. The young lady, scrolled and searched her computer for a second before telling me some very bad news.  

“I'm sorry Mr. Ackles, but you don’t have a reservation here.” Trying hard to not show how upset I was I asked “Do you have any open tables? It’s just a party of two.” “I’m sorry, we’ve been booked for the past week.” The young lady said. “It’s fine, dear. Have a good rest of your night.” I said walking out.  

I know that I was going to feel bad for ruining our date night. As I climbed into the car, Y/n read my face asking me.  “They don’t have a table for us, do they?” I looked over at her, and loosened my tie, “yes I’m sorry dear. How about we order some food instead, watch a movie on the couch maybe snuggle.”  

“That’s okay dear, and yeah I’d like that very much.” So that’s what we did, Y/n called the closet Japanese's restaurant. “Yes, Ma’am this is Fen, what would you like to order?” After a few minutes of deciding on the what both Y/n and I wanted, Y/n answered “A plate of sushi, and one plate of tempura. Thank you, Fen.” She spoke.  

Picking it up on our way home, Y/n held it in her lap, and my hand stayed on her thigh for the rest of the trip home, we played music as we drove. Just taking a minute to relax and reflect on maybe we don’t always have to go out for dinner.  

When we arrived home, Y/n asked “Do you mind if we eat in our fancy clothes, seeing as I put so much effort into mine?” “Of course, honey, I’ll go get silverware, and you can choose the movie.” I spoke. As I walked into the kitchen I yelled. “And I put a lot of time into my outfit too, dork.”  

Completed: 02/17/2021

[gogoseijoh]

cigarettes - ukai keishin x reader

summary: you make sure keishin knows about your least favorite habit of his, and he thanks the universe every day for bringing you into his life

genre: angst, implied smut, fluff... just throwing everything out there lmao

word count: 1.8k

(a/n): i was not thoughts head empty trying to work on ‘losing’ so i took a break with this :) it’s kinda rushed but i like it and i hope you guys do too... i did not proofread sorry for any mistakes lol

You always waited up for him. It was one of Ukai’s favorite things about you. No matter what type of day he had, he could trust that when he scaled the stairs to the cramped studio apartment above the store, you would be there, in bed with either the TV on or a book in your hand, waiting for him to give you a kiss before you drifted off. You’d wait, even if he was just downstairs, taking care of some final things for the members of the volleyball club and cleaning the store. It didn’t matter how late it was or how many times he told you that you could go to sleep without him, you would always just hum and tell him to mind his own business, and that you would sleep whenever you wanted. Ukai would just chuckle and press a kiss to your forehead, savoring the fact that you cared enough about him to sacrifice your sleep schedule. There had been a lot of late, stressful nights for him lately, but you still kept up your promise. However, he did sometimes forget something extremely important to you. 

Ukai had made it a habit since you moved in together to keep a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash or a pack of gum in his pocket, along with a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. You made your disdain for kissing a smoker, and the fact that he smoked in general, clear when you started dating, and before you had started living together, he was largely able to abstain from smoking around you and just keep to vigorously brushing his teeth before any time he was seeing you. Moving in together, though, made it clear to him that he would have to take extra precautions to make sure his breath didn’t repulse you out of wanting to kiss him. He did his best, but sometimes it slipped his mind after he finished off his last cigarette while closing up the store. He’s make the mistake of giving you a deep kiss, just for you to grimace and insist on slipping out of bed to brush your teeth again. This was one of those nights.

You had smiled when you heard the jingling of his keys unlocking the door, and it only widened when the door creaked open and the blonde let out a raspy, “Hey, sweetheart.” Once he locked the door, he made his way over to you with a lazy grin on his face, a sign that his day had been a good one, and leaned down for a kiss, only for you to recoil before his lips could touch yours. Your pointer finger met his lips, and you grimaced, “Keishin.” He instantly backtracked, reaching the bathroom door and grabbing his toothbrush from it’s holder, squeezing a copious amount onto the bristles to make sure the taste of smoke would be gone.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he sighed, beginning to brush his teeth, “One uf deez days uh warnt s’ip upf.” His speech was garbled as he finished his proclamation that you had heard many times before in between strokes of the brush. He turned towards the sink, catching you shaking your head with a concerned look on your face behind him. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. He finished with a furrowed brow, spitting into the sink and washing off his toothbrush. Your face was hidden in your legs as he made his way back to your side, hand coming to the back of your head to stroke your hair, “What’s wrong?” He wasn’t expecting the tears in your eyes when you looked up at him. He instantly toed his shoes off, slipping behind you on the bed and pulling you back into his chest. This was always how he comforted you, knowing that you liked to lean back and listen to his heartbeat and feel the vibrations of his chest as he spoke to you. You nuzzled into his neck, and he could feel your tears wetting his skin. Ukai was completely lost in that moment. When he walked in, your smile had been so bright and contagious, so how had you gotten here within just a few minutes. He turned his head, planting gentle kisses on the crown of your head as you cried. He pushed your shirt up and before you knew it his arms were settled around your waist, knowing that when you were upset, nothing comforted you quite like skin to skin contact. It wasn’t much, but it must have been enough, because your sobbing turned into sniffling within minutes. 

You lifted your head from his neck and turned in his arms, straddling his lap and taking his face in your hands. He grinned, pulling you even further into him, “Hi, pretty.” You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, just wanting to breathe in his air. Your silence was deeply concerning, because you were never one to hide from your feelings, and he spurred you on slowly, “(y/n), what’s going on? Did you have a bad day?” 

You bit your lip, shaking your head, “No, Keishin, I’m just worried about you.” The sadness in your eyes was legitimate, and it only grew as you continued, “I just, I don’t know, you’ve been smoking a lot more than usual. I know you’re stressed, but still, it’s not healthy. You know I hate that you smoke.” Ukai opened his mouth, but no words came out, but yours didn’t stop, “I don’t want to lose you, Kei. We’re getting married. We’re going to be starting a family, and I want you to be around to see all of it. I already hear you coughing sometimes, and it’s scary.” 

As he looked up at you, Ukai felt something within him stir. Again, he had known that you didn’t like his smoking as long as he’d known you, but he didn’t know that it was bothering you so deeply. You sometimes made sarcastic comments to him about it, but nothing this serious. You must’ve been holding this in for a long time, and Ukai’s heart fell into his stomach. He didn’t realize how much he was hurting you. One of his hands came up your back to cradle your head, hugging you so closely he thought you might lose the ability to breathe, but you only wrapped your arms around his neck, cheek to cheek with your fiance. Ukai murmured into your hair, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you like this.” You were so small in his arms, mostly from the emotional exertion of finally letting out your worries. Ukai continued, “I was focusing on the wrong part of the problem. I need to work on it.”

“I do appreciate you taking care of your breath, though,” you whispered, trying to break the tension with an attempt at a joke, “I’ll do anything to help you quit, Keishin. I love you so much.” You pulled back from his embrace, looking in to his gorgeous eyes in wonder.

His lips curled into a smile, “I love you more.” You suddenly leaned in, capturing his lips with yours. It was a slow, deliberate kiss, all of the passion you felt channeled into it. He couldn’t help but groan into it, feeling how soft your lips were against his. You were so sweet to him, so kind and so much more than he thought he deserved. You had assured him multiple times that you were with him because you loved him, and he was the absolute perfect man for you. He had won your affection a very long time ago, but he still found himself wondering at times why you had chosen him. When Ukai had first begun to like you, so had Shimada, and it became a sort of competition to see who could woo you first. It was futile for Shimada in the end, because anyone who came close to you and Ukai could see how much you liked each other. Ukai liked you because you were both strong and soft, keeping him on his toes with your witty comments and drawing him in with every giggle and grin you gave. You were just as whipped. You loved his hair, often helping him with touch ups, and you loved his voice, the tone always soothing you. Shimada had given up as soon as he saw it, that spark between you that lit the world around you on fire. When you were together, your smiles couldn’t be broken, and it was contagious.

Keishin knew he couldn’t let you go no matter what, so four years after you started dating, he proposed. It was simple, just a question he asked so casually that you could’ve missed it. You had been wrapped up in bed one morning, sheets tangled with your legs and your back pressed to his bare chest, soaking in the feeling of his warm skin. It was still dark, but you had woken up when he had tried to get out of bed, and you were quick to pull him back down. He told you that he had to open the store, but he couldn’t resist staying longer when your lips met his, not caring about any morning breath. That kiss quickly turned into his quick hands traveling down your body jokingly saying, “If you’re keeping me here, I gotta get something out of it.” That was just a front. There’s nowhere else in the world he wanted to be. The afterglow was spectacular, both of you breathing deeply and covered in the sheen of a light sweat. You were happy that you got him to stay a little longer, but you knew he had to go, so you turned in his arms and gave him one last kiss. You hummed, “Go get dressed, Kei. I don’t want your grandma to yell at you again, and more importantly, I don’t want to get yelled at.” You went to pull away, but Ukai didn’t release you, looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Before you could question it, he spoke quietly, “Marry me, (y/n).” You froze, eyes wide in disbelief. He continued, “I’m serious. I want to marry you. Will you marry me?” You said yes. 

Ukai couldn’t believe you said yes, but then again, here you were moved in to his tiny apartment a few months later with your wedding three weeks out. You did so much for him. How could he not notice how much his smoking bothered you? This is the least he could do, and he logically knew it wasn’t healthy. You were right about the prospect of a family, too. Ukai wanted to be there for you and your future children as long as possible, and if he kept smoking, that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t really care how difficult it would be, because it would be completely worth it to be in your life a long time. What could be more perfect than being able to grow old with the love of his life? The next day when he was researching the best ways to stop smoking, he couldn’t think of a single thing better.

[snelbz]

broken.

{rowaelin angst}

A/N: So this has been sitting in my drafts for uh. 8 months, and I legit forgot it existed sooo. Enjoy!

The little black box that sat on his dresser haunted him.

Rowan had been staring at it for what seemed like hours without any hope of falling asleep. He glanced at the alarm clock on his dresser. 2:16. His eyes drifted back to the box. He wondered if the diamond inside would gleam in the moonlight streaming through his thin curtained window.

He wondered if she would have liked the ring.

He supposed he would never know.

He didn’t understand how they had gotten here. How he had ended up in bed - in their bed - alone. He reached out ran his hand down the unoccupied pillow next to him.

Just yesterday, she woken up beside him. Just yesterday, she’d slipped out of bed before he was awake to make him a cup of coffee. It was still steaming on his bedside table when he’d woken up, though she was long gone, hoping to beat the morning traffic heading into Orynth.

He’d gone back through their texts from the day over a hundred times already, looking for some clue or sign of what was to come. There was none. They’d talked about nothing out of the ordinary, but that had been his goal. For her to suspect nothing and assume that it was any normal day.

At lunch, he’d called her. He’d suggested they go somewhere nice for dinner, rather than the regular take out one of them picked up on the way home, the one element crucial to his plan. If there was no fancy dinner, there was no proposal.

But he didn’t expect her to say no.

“I’m swamped with work,” she’d said. “I really just need to go to my apartment tonight and focus on these files.”

He’d offered, “I’ll come over then. Pick up dinner on the way.”

“Not tonight, Rowan.”

The tones of her voice made him hesitate before he pushed her.

Rowan’s eyes fluttered shut.

He missed her.

It had only been a day and the absence of her in their bed was agonizing.

Rowan picked up his phone and went to her contact page. He pressed the call button. It went straight to voicemail.

Hey, it’s Aelin. I’m busy. Call later or leave a message. Actually, text me. Why are you calling me in the first place?

The recorded lady told him to leave a message after the beep.

The beep came.

Rowan said nothing. What was there to say?

I miss you. I love you. Come back to me. Please.

Rowan hung up and let his phone fall into her pillow.

He had thought about going to her apartment, but he knew it was pointless. He’d never get inside. Instead he’d paced around his house today. He’d smashed things and broken them. He’d screamed until he was sure his neighbors had heard and was surprised when no police had shown up. He’d punched the wall so hard there was a fist-sized hole in the drywall. As he looked up at it, he clenched his stiff fingers.

Useless.

It was useless.

Pointless.

They had been together since high school. Seven years. Everyone said high school sweethearts don’t end up together. But they were wrong. She was his forever.

Seven years.

And now there was nothing.

Nothing but pain and emptiness and an agonizing hole in his chest that could not be filled.

He called her number again, knowing that it would go straight to her voicemail as it did before.

He did it again.

And again.

And again.

Until he finally got the nerve to leave a message after the beep.

“I love you,” he said, quietly, into the phone. “I miss you. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

He hung up and stared at the white ceiling.

He knew she wouldn’t be calling back, knew she wouldn’t answer the phone, no matter how many times he called.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Life wasn’t supposed to laugh at you like this.

You weren’t supposed to get a taste of happiness, to see everything you’ve ever wanted in front of you, and all you had to do was reach out and take it.

Only to have it ripped from your grasp at the last second.

He picked up his phone, to do what, he didn’t know. Probably to call again, but he paused. His eyes landed on the blue app in the upper corner of his screen and he tapped on it.

Before his feed could even load, he’d clicked on the small magnifying glass in the corner and began to type. Her name appeared after only typing “A”.

He selected her profile, and a photo of her, beaming at the person behind the camera, was displayed front and center. He’d taken the photo, on the ride home from her recent college graduation. The pride displayed on her face was obvious. As was the love in her turquoise and gold eyes.

He quickly closed the app, not allowing himself to scroll through her feed. To see if anything had been posted.

His phone rang in his hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t going to be her despite the late hour, he still hoped. But when he focused on the name on the display, he saw that it was Lorcan, and he declined the call.

He wasn’t in the mood for one of his oldest friend’s particular brand of bad mood tonight.

He had his own to contend with.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

No one but her.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, Rowan crawled out of bed as the clock hit three.

He went into the kitchen and turned on the light above the stove.

He turned around.

Her gray cardigan was tossed over the back of one of the chairs pushed up to his crappy, yard sale kitchen table.

They had picked out that table together, after Aelin had convinced him that a kitchen table was necessary and made an offer to the seller. The offer included the kitchen table and the hideous floral chair Rowan had sitting in the corner of his living room.

He hated that chair, had only put it in his apartment because Aelin found it charming.

Rowan poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat in that ugly chair. He grabbed her sweater as he passed and clutched it in his bruised and sore hand. He closed his eyes and raised it to his face. He breathed in deeply, breathing her in, breathing in the firey, crisp scent of her.

The sob the burst out of him on his exhale surprised even him. He didn’t expect the full body tremors that shook he as the tears finally spilled.

Gods, he missed her. He wanted her. He wanted to talk to her. He needed her to tell him everything was going to be okay.

So he tried to call her again.

“Aes, baby, I love you. I need you.” His voice was a gravelly rasp, barely intelligible into the phone’s microphone. “Please, baby. Please.”

He wasn’t above begging. Hell, he’d done it before. Practically had to do it to get her to go out with him in the first place, the beautiful, sophomore cheerleader, being approached by the boy, covered in tattoos at only seventeen, that everyone said was bad news.

And maybe he was bad news.

Maybe it was karma that had led him to lose her.

Maybe it was all his fault.

She was too good for him. Even the gods knew it. But she had loved him, he knew she did. A deep, all consuming love. That is what they shared.

But Rowan didn’t deserve such a love.

So it had to be taken from him.

Rowan screamed, his glass of whiskey falling from his grasp onto the rug beneath.

He didn’t care.

Let it soak in, let it stain. Let it be a reminder of what he had lost.

His phone chimed on the counter, a signal of an incoming text message, and again, he sprang for it. He unlocked it and read the message, his heart falling when he read the words.

I’m outside of your place, Whitethorn. I can see that the light is on. Just give me some sort of sign that you’re alive in there and I’ll leave you be. Elide is worried about you and it’s cutting into my sleep schedule.

Elide, gods bless her. The sweetest soul that he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. How Lorcan had charmed her, he’d never know.

Instead of replying, he slowly turned around, shuffled to the corner by the window, where the lamp stood, illuminating his small apartment. With a quick twist of his wrist, he turned the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness.

He just stood there, letting the darkness in his heart match that of his home, and after a minute, his phone chimed again, another text from Lorcan.

Thank you, that’s all I needed.

Rowan closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. He could hear the A/C unit, humming quietly. He could hear someone on the floor above’s washing machine as it spun. He could hear a tv on down the hall. But he couldn’t hear the quiet snore that left her when she was deeply and completely asleep. Because that snore was gone. His phone chimed one last time and his eyes snapped open and he looked at it.

And Rowan, I’m sorry about Aelin. I really am.

Rowan read the words over and over, letting them process, but never quite taking them in. His breathing quickened, his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.

With a yell of rage, he launched his phone at the wall across the room. It was like a small explosion when it made impact, tiny pieces of glass and plastic and metal ricocheting across the room.

He dropped to his knees and wept.

He couldn’t get over this.

There was no getting over this, getting over her.

It didn’t make sense.

None of it made sense.

Rowan sat on his knees until all of the tears left his body and he eventually fell into a steady numbness.

Was this how it would be?

Living, but wishing he weren’t?

Rowan laid down on the rug, next to the stain from his whiskey.

He had laid her down nights before on that rug and made love to her until late in the night that turned into early morning.

Everywhere he looked there was a memory.

She was everywhere.

So he closed his eyes and tried not to think.

The next thing Rowan knew, there was a banging on his front door and a pain in his neck and back.

The banging continued, but it was accompanied by a lilting voice. “Rowan Whitethorn, I swear to the gods, if you’re in there and don’t open this door right now, I will personally kick your ass.”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face the couple he knew was on the other side. Specifically, he couldn’t face him.

He couldn’t look at him and see her.

He couldn’t see the golden hair and the remarkable, identical eyes. Eyes no one but the two of them shared.

He couldn’t take the pity that would be in them.

“Go away,” he said. He wanted to yell it, but his voice came out broken and raspy.

The knock came once more.

“Please, Rowan,” she said.

If it was just Aedion, Rowan would’ve ignored it. But Lysandra’s plea broke him.

Rowan pushed himself off the floor and stumbled to the door. He knew he looked like shit, smelled like shit, but he didn’t care.

He cracked open the door and peeked through the slit. “What.”

He didn’t meet their gazes.

He knew they would be loaded with pity, and he couldn’t take it.

“May we come in?” Lysandra asked, gently.

That gentleness only made him more agitated.

“It’s not a good time.”

He knew he was being rude. He knew he was being an ass to the people who’d been his family for so many years.

“You think you’re the only one who’s hurting?”

“Aedion,” Lysandra said, a hand pressed to his chest. “We’re here to check on Rowan.”

It was then that Rowan glanced up at Aedion, at the eyes he’d loved so fiercely.

“You don’t need to check on me,” Rowan said, quietly. “I’m perfectly fine being alone right now.”

Aedion’s gaze did not falter from Rowan’s. Rowan wondered if Aedion knew the thoughts that were running through his mind. He wondered if Aedion knew that when Rowan looked at him, all he saw was Aelin.

Seeing Aedion did more hurt than good.

“If you need anything-.” Lysandra began, but was cut off.

“I’ll call,” Rowan interrupted, attempting to sound as if he meant it.

He shut the door without another word, leaning against it after it clicked shut. Rowan slid down the cold, wooden board as Aedion and Lysandra’s footsteps faded away into the distance.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, his back against the door, his feet planted on the floor. Long enough that his legs slid out from under him of their own accord. Long enough that somehow, he ended up laying on the cheap flooring meant to look like wood all day and then all night.

Around 6:30 the next morning, the sun reached the remnants of his phone, the shards of glass reflecting the light directly into his eyes.

He’d promised Lysandra he’d call if he needed something. His phone was in pieces and besides, there was only phone number he had memorized and he knew that one would go unanswered.

His stomach growled, but he never got up, even when the rumbles became empty aches. He just laid there, wondering if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he hadn’t needed to use the bathroom in days.

There was a knock on the door twice, but neither time did Rowan do more than blink at the startling noise.

He’d lost track of the days when footsteps approached his door, a key was fit into the door and the lock clicked as it was released. Rowan was up before the door could be swung open, his hopes high regardless of knowing there was no way she’d be on the other side of the door. Even though no one had a spare but her.

It wasn’t her.

Elide stepped through the door, and Rowan’s breathing quickened. It was as if every emotion he had ignored in the past twenty-four hours came flooding.

A quiet, broken sob fell out of him, and Elide was quickly moving toward him. She took Rowan, who was a foot taller than she, into her arms and held him tightly.

When Rowan’s breathing finally evened out, Elide whispered, “We hadn’t heard anything in a few days, so I got Aelin’s key. I just wanted to make sure that you… I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

Rowan said nothing. He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, letting Elide hold onto him. Minutes passed before Rowan even realized that he was clutching her sweater so hard that his fingers were turning white at the tips.

“Rowan, you-.” Elide began, but paused to clear her throat. “You know you need to go see her.”

The room was silent. The only sound in the entire house was the rain pattering against the windows.

Rowan wasn’t sure when it had started to rain.

“She would-.”

“I know, Elide,” he whispered, sharply, but not unkindly. It had the desired effect though, and the dark haired girl stayed quiet. He rested his cheek on Elide’s head.

There was nothing remotely romantic in the gesture. Elide had become almost a little sister of sorts in the past few years. At first, she was just Aelin’s younger friend, and he’d loved her then. But now that she’d also become his best friend’s wife, that sense of protection he felt over was even stronger. There were many nights he’d stayed over at the Salvaterre/Lochan household, drinking and talking too late into the night, but not just with Lorcan. There were things he couldn’t talk to his Captain and best friend about, things that needed the delicate nature of a female.

“I just can’t yet, El,” he whispered. “I can’t just go over there and-.”

“And what?” She asked, pulling back and gripping his forearms. “After everything you’ve been through, after how long you loved her, you aren’t even going to say goodbye?”

Rowan stayed quiet, a million thoughts running through his mind. He shook his head. “I don’t want it to be goodbye. Not yet.”

Elide’s gaze softened, her palm resting against Rowan’s stubbled cheek. “Then don’t say goodbye. Just...go talk to her.”

Rowan said nothing for a long while. Then, at last, he nodded.

Elide gave him one more quick hug and began to back away. “Don’t go today. It’s rainy and gross and you know how she feels about rain. Go tomorrow, it’s going to be sunny and pretty and-.”

“A new day,” Rowan completed for her. The closest thing to a smile he’d felt in days tugged on the corner of his lip. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

She paused by the door. “We love you, Ro. We miss you. Things aren’t the same without you. We know that things will probably never be the same but…” She blinked a few times and closed her eyes. “We’re all going to the Stag after work on Friday, like we used to. Should I save your usual seat?”

A real smile, though still sad, spread across his face. “I’ll do my best.”

She smiled and said, “That’s all we’re asking for,” and slipped out the door.

That night, Rowan went upstairs and slept in their bed, clutching her pillow to his chest. Her scent felt like coming home.

Gods, how many days had it been since he’d seen her? How many nights had he slept without her by his side? How many mornings had he gone without feeling her curl into his side, just before his alarm would go off?

How many days had she been gone?

After a night of fitful, but actual sleep, Rowan got up early, earlier than should have been acceptable, once he discovered it was a Saturday, and showered and shaved. He had to look his best for her. He had to impress.

He shrugged on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt before grabbing his jacket off the bedpost and shrugging it on. He looked in the mirror and decided it was good enough.

She had bought him that jacket. She loved that jacket.

He slipped on his boots and headed out the door. The sun was rising, and Rowan almost got lightheaded from the fresh air. It had been a while since he had gone outside.

Rowan headed east once he reached the sidewalk outside of his apartment building. He reached the corner store about five minutes later. They had just opened as he went inside, the bell ringing above the door as he made his entrance. After paying for a small bouquet of red roses, Rowan continued his walk through town.

Not many people were out, just those heading to work or on the walk of shame back to their own homesteads.

Rowan didn’t pay attention to any of them. His mind was on her. He was almost there.

And when he finally arrived, he panicked.

He wasn’t ready.

But he had to be.

The iron gates were open.

He walked through them, the autumn leaves rustling and crunching beneath his boots as he walked the winding path.

Elide had told him where she’d be.

The closer he got, though, the slower he moved, the heavier he breathed, the blurrier his vision became.

He found her.

And when he reached her, he fell to the ground, his knees landing in the damp grass.

It was real.

He didn’t want it to be real.

Real. It was real.

“Fireheart,” he whispered, voice trembling.

Rowan laid the roses down in front of the stone that read Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. Daughter and Friend, and wept.

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Fifteen

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: little bit of angst, fluff, and of course smut

Words: 5.4K

a/n: it’s back! thank you all for your patience, I’ve that written for a bit, but it felt good to take a break and work on some other things. I hope you enjoy this part! 

Masterpost

“He’s gotten so big!” Anne says as you and Harry come through the door of her home. “Hi Jack!” She takes him in her arms.

“Grammy!” He nuzzles into her.

“So much better than FaceTime.” She chuckles. “How was he on the flight?”

“Fussy as shit.” Harry grunts and brings the bags upstairs.

“Don’t mind him.” You roll your eyes. “Jack freaked out before we took off, and didn’t like that it made his ears feel weird, and then he couldn’t decide if he wanted to sit in my lap or Harry’s, even though we gave him the middle seat so he could be next to both of us. He slept for a little bit, but then woke up needing to use the bathroom. We didn’t want him watching TV the entire time either, so after one movie he cried after we told him it was enough. Needless to say, it was much easier before he could talk.”

Harry comes back downstairs and shakes his head at Jack.

“Course now he’s gonna be good for Grammy, right?”

“You know, if you two need a little break, you can leave him here with me for a few days. I can always drive him out to London, or I can pass him off to Gem.”

“It’s not that we need a break.” You explain. “It was just a long flight, but we’re definitely open to letting him spend some extra time with you. I loved spending time with my grandparents when I was little, and I definitely want him to have that with you.”

“Hungry, mumma.” Jack whines.

“Okay.” You sigh.

“Oh, Jack. Grammy’s taking everyone out for dinner tonight. Auntie Gem��s coming too. Let’s get you washed up, hm?”

She takes him down the hall into the bathroom.

“I love him to pieces, but next time I’m giving him something to make him sleep.” Harry says, going into the kitchen for some water. “He’s never been so fussy on a flight before, never.”

“He’s over two years old now, it’s just what happens. He’s starting to do things for himself, and he gets frustrated when he can’t or we tell him no. We have to deal with him being fussy and he has to deal with not getting everything he wants when he wants it.”

“He’s gonna be bored without Buster. I wish we could’ve brought him, but it’s too expensive now.”

“I know.” You sigh. “At least we have Sarah and Niall.”

Anne comes back with a cleaned up Jack. You and Harry both go to freshen up, and out the door you go. Jack gets very excited to see Gemma and her husband. He’s a good boy during most of dinner, and you were thankful he didn’t cause a scene.

You and Harry gave Jack a bath when you got back to Anne’s house. It helped tire him out. He had a room at Anne’s but he wanted to sleep with you and Harry.

“We’re on vacation, I think it’ll be alright. He’s not used to sleeping here yet.”

“True, yeah, he can sleep with us.” Harry shrugs. “I do like snugglin’ up with him.”

You and Harry both get ready for bed, and you read a story to Jack to help him fall asleep. When you hear his soft snores you put the book down.

“Remember when you used to sit between my legs and tell him about your day while he was still in my tummy.” You pout. “When I get pregnant, will you do that again? It was so cute.”

“Course I remember. And yeah, I’ll do it again.” He turns the lights off. “Sorry, you got your period last week. I for sure thought that day we screwed when Niall and Sarah watched him was gonna be it.”

“It’s okay. We’ll just keep trying. At least I don’t have my period now. When we have a few days alone at the flat we can get to it.”

“Yeah.” He leans over Jack to kiss you goodnight. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Jack woke up fully on top of you the next morning. Like father like son. You snuggle him close to you and stroke the mop of curls on his head. He nuzzles into you and sighs. Harry’s eyes flutter open as he reaches for you. He smiles at first at the sight in front of him, and then he feels a little jealous. Jack got a lot of your cuddles these days.

“Mornin’.” Harry whispers, and you hum your response. “Turn over with him so I can spoon you.” You smile and do as he says. He kisses the back of your neck as you adjust into him. This was pure bliss.

//

“No!”

“Jack, come on, don’t you wanna spend time alone with Grammy?” Harry pleads with him. You had spent an entire week with Anne, it was time to head to the flat.

“No!”

“Jack, Grammy has lots of fun things planned for you. Don’t you wanna see what they are?”

“Don’t go, mumma.” He lets crocodile tears fall from his eyes.

“God, Harry.” You look at Harry.

“Go wait in the car.”

“But he’s gonna-“

“Go.” Harry scoops up Jack and takes him over to Anne who was trying to not to get involved. “Here, mum. He should be fine.”

“He’ll tire himself out. Jack, Grammy’s got some new coloring books for you. Don’t you wanna see?”

“Okay.” He sniffles.

“We love you Jack, it’ll only be a few days.” Harry kisses him and heads out the door. He sees you sobbing in the front seat of the car and sighs. “He’s fine, darlin’. Mum’s gonna color with him.” He puts his hand on your thigh as he drives off towards London.

“I know, I just feel terrible when he looks at me like that.”

“Clingy little thing, huh? Wonder where he got that from.” He winks at you and you can’t help but laugh.

“He’s truly learning by watching, that’s for sure.”

“Can’t help it that both your boys wantcha all the time.”

“I guess not.” You chuckle and wipe your eyes. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Drinking, lots of drinking. Gem’s got the flat all set up for us, stocked us with plenty of wine.”

“She’s the best.”

“We’ll see her in a couple of days. We’re not leavin’ that flat while we have this time alone.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You both sigh heavily when you come into the clean flat. Harry opens up a bottle of wine right away and pours you a glass. You clink them together and take a sip.

“Mm, this is nice.” You plop down on the couch and he joins you. “Like old times.”

“Mhm.” He takes a nice big sip. “I’ll never forget the first time we made love here. I was so nervous.”

“Me too. I’m happy it was here though.” You start laughing. “Didn’t I kick you in the stomach?”

“Yeah, and I came all over you.” He shakes his head. “It was perfectly imperfect.”

“Yup, and then we couldn’t keep our hands off each other after that. Jesus, do you remember when Niall walked in on us when we were moving you into my place?”

“Don’t remind me.” He rolls his eyes. “Major blue balls.” You burst out laughing and take another sip of wine.

“It’s crazy how quickly time passes. I mean, I’ll be thirty soon, it’s wild.”

“I try not to think about it too much.” He takes a sip of his wine. “Not you being almost thirty, I mean how quickly time passes.” He laughs. “It’s like you’re always sayin’, age is just a number.”

“I feel like a real grown up now, though. Like, I thought I was so grown when we met because I was able to live alone and I had a good job, but, I was pretty childish.”

“We both still had some growing up to do, it’s okay.” He sets his glass down on the coffee table, and puts his hand on your knee. You finish up your glass. “More, babe?”

“Mm, please.”

It was nice to just sit and chat with Harry. You didn’t have to worry about Jack interrupting, or taking Buster out. It was like how things were before all this responsibility came into your lives. You felt slightly guilty for enjoying it a little, but you knew you wouldn’t change a thing. As hectic as things got, you loved your life and what it had turned into. You cherished your time as a family, but you cherished these times as well. After two more glasses of wine, you found yourself just watching Harry’s lips move as he talked.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Are you listening?” He chuckles.

“Yeah! I’m sorry, I was just distracted.” You scoot a little closer to him.

“By what?” He moves some hair behind your ear.

“You.” You whisper. “You’re just too handsome, it’s hard to concentrate sometimes.”

His hand moves to cup your cheek so he can bring you in for a kiss. He tasted like the sweet wine you had been drinking, and you wanted more so you part your lips for him. He parted his so you could lick into his mouth. He groans against you, and pulls you into his lap. You straddle his thighs as his hands move up and down your bare ones. You had opted for a sundress today since it was so hot out. Your hands lace through his hair and you tug slightly as his mouth moves to your neck.

You didn’t compare yourself to other couples often, but you wondered if people who had been together for almost seven years still had the same passion as you and Harry. You weren’t as intimate as often as you used to be, but when you got going like this you were always brought back to when you were twenty-four and things were insanely hot and heavy. Sometimes when Jack would smile at you, you couldn’t help but think of the first time you “met” Harry on your first date, and the smile he flashed you. You wondered if you’d be raising a heartbreaker, but something told you even if he grew to be as handsome as Harry, he would be the sweetest boy.

Harry pushes his hips up to yours, and you roll yours down on him. He sinks his teeth further into your skin, and it causes you to gasp.

“You need to be careful.” You pull his head back to look at you. “We’ve talked about this. Hidden spots only.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Jack’s still little, he won’t notice.”

“He notices more than you think, trust me.”

“Fine, hidden spots only.”

He moves your dress off your shoulder and attaches his lips there. Your hands roam up under his shirt to run your nails up and down his torso as his hands squeeze your ass.

“Alright.” He says and picks you up. You squeal slightly and wrap your legs around your waist.

“What are you doing?” You giggle.

“Bringing you to the bedroom, obviously.” He grunts as he continues to carry you.

He drops you onto the bed and you reach to undo his shirt for him. He wasn’t expecting you to be so desperate for him, but his head was swimming so he wasn’t going to question it. You tug his cock out of his boxers and look up at him as you kiss on his tip.

“Christ, Y/N.” He groans as he blushes.

You suckle on his tip and slowly take him further down your throat. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he feels you swallow around him. You bob your head up and down, spit and precum dripping down your chin. He pulls you off of him, and watches as the trail of spit slowly detaches from your lips.

He reaches for the hem of your dress and he lifts it off you. Your breasts were practically spilling out of your bra. He loved the way your body looked these days. You weren’t as fit as you used to be, but god, he loved every inch of you. You unhook your bra and let it fall off you. Harry pushes you back on the bed and kneads your breasts as he climbs on top of you. He kisses you quick before working his mouth down your body. He practically rips your panties off and spreads your legs open in one swift motion. Before you can say anything his tongue was on you, lapping you up. You arch back from the sensation.

He was licking away at you sloppily, really making a mess of things, but who were you to ruin his fun? If he liked the way you tasted, even after all this time, you weren’t going to tell him to be a little less vulgar about the noises he was making. Besides, it felt really fucking good.

“Ngh, Harry, I…I’m, fuck.” You groan and grit your teeth as you pull and tug at his hair.

He doesn’t let up on you, though. He continues sucking on your clit and moving his tongue back down to your center to fuck you with it. He had his hands pressed down your thighs to keep you as wide open as he could.

“Oh god, oh my god, Harry!” You scream as you come undone. He removes his mouth from you and just uses his hand to rub around the now sensitive area as your body convulses under him.

“Like that, babe?”

“So much, thank you.” You breathe. You scoot back further on the bed and he moves with you. He smooths some hair away from your now sweaty forehead. “Harry…?”

“Yes, my love?” He lips ghost over yours, and then move to your cheek and neck.

“I wanna make another baby with you, so bad.” You cup his cheeks so he’ll look at you.

“I do too. I love you so much.” He turns to kiss one of your palms.

“I love you too, and our life, and I want it to keep growing.”

“So do I, angel.” He lines himself up with you and pushes inside. “I’m gonna give you everything yeh want, okay? Including another baby.”

His tongue finds yours as he rocks in and out of you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. He grabs both of your hands and pins them on either side of your head. You move your hips up and grind against him so you’re moving in sync together. Love making at its finest. The two of you were grunting and panting, and just enjoying not having to keep it down for a change.

Harry waits for you to come at least two more times before he fills you up. You were drenched in sweat, but you didn’t you care. You rest your legs up against the headboard for a few minutes making sure nothing leaked out of you before going to the bathroom to clean up. That’s how things were for the next few days without Jack around. And it really wasn’t even about making another baby, you and Harry were just enjoying the time to explore each other and make love like how you used to. It was nice.

//

“There’s my baby!” You exclaim when you see Gemma pull up with Jack. “Were you a good boy for Grammy?” You ask him as you take him out of the car seat.

“Mumma!”

“Yes, hi, I know!” You snuggle him to you. You really did miss him.

“Daddy!”

“I’m right here.” He takes him from you and holds him close. “Thanks for bringin’ him.” He says to Gemma.

“Oh, no worries. We had a nice car ride together. We stopped off for some lunch so he shouldn’t be hungry. He’s quite talkative. He mostly babbled, but it was nice nonetheless.” Gemma pokes the dimple in Jack’s cheek. “A rambunctious two year old, but he’s a love bug too, according to mum. She really enjoyed the time alone with him.”

“That’s great.” You say. “We like him too.” You tickle Jack’s belly and the sound of his giggle soars through you. “Think it’s nap time, darling boy. Thanks again, Gem.” You take Jack from Harry and head upstairs to the flat.

“Was it nice to have a little break?”

“Yeah, it was. You sorta feel guilty at first, you know? We love him so much, but neither of us realized how badly we just needed some time alone.”

“I get it. S’gotta be different now that he’s really becoming a child. He’s not a baby anymore. He’s exploring and learning all the time.”

“His routine is just completely different in the summer. During the school year he has day care and stuff so by the time he gets home he’s pooped. And then I feel bad because Y/N is home with him all day. I’m able to come home early most days, but then I feel guilty about the business. It’s tough, but I wouldn’t give any of it up.”

“How is the business doing?”

“It’s great! Our numbers go up every year, we have loyal clients who spread the word. Nothin’ really to worry about there, I just feel bad when Mariah and Isaac have to pick up my slack.”

“You could hire another person, you know? You’re the owner and the boss, you have a lot of other responsibilities. Like my friend who owns that hair salon? She does way less hair than everyone else because she’s busy runnin’ the business. You might have to take less photos for people, Harry.”

“I know that.” He sighs. “I’ll have to have a meeting with Isaac and Mariah to see what they think and how they feel. It’s been the three of us for so long, but maybe I could hire a part timer…maybe even get an intern from Y/N’s university.”

“There yeh go. Just think it over so you can take some pressure off. Also,” she puts her hand on his shoulder, “he’s not gonna be this fussy forever. Give yourselves a break, you’re both doin’ a great job.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” The two hug and off Gemma goes. Harry goes upstairs with Jack’s things and smiles when he sees you lulling him to sleep on the couch. “I think we should take him on the London Eye tomorrow.” He whispers.

“Oh, he’d enjoy that for sure.” You whisper back. You stroke his cheek as his eyes continue to droop. “Such a precious boy, isn’t he?”

“Sometimes I still can’t believe we made him.” Harry says, sitting down next to you.

“Me neither.”

The next day you get a ton of sunscreen on Jack, and you take him to the London Eye. He was scared at first, but when he saw how relaxed you and Harry were, he realized there was nothing to be frightened of. Harry picks him up and points different buildings out to him. You make sure to take lots of pictures. You had taken Jack to London before, but he was still a baby. Even when you brought him for the holidays, he still wasn’t present the way he is now. You loved watching his eyes widen as Harry continued to point things out.

“Mumma, look!” Jack points like Harry does and you giggle.

“I see, Jack, isn’t it pretty?” Jack nods to you and continues to look out the large window.

He was fast asleep by the time you got him back to the flat. You and Harry had a full day with him, and he barely fussed. You tuck him in and leave the bedroom door open only a crack. You join Harry out in the living room and snuggle up to him.

“He was so good today.” You say.

“Mm, the long plane ride must’ve just messed him up.”

“Maybe something to put him to sleep on the way back wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want him to be jet lagged.” Harry scoffs. “He’s lucky he’s cute.” He jokes as you shake your head at him.

//

The school year would have been off to a great start if you didn’t feel nauseous almost every morning you needed to get up. It was difficult pulling yourself from the warm bed and getting Jack up. Harry was up before you most mornings to catch the train. You hadn’t told him about your symptoms yet, in fear of getting too excited over nothing.

The day you had to leave class to go run down the hall to the bathroom to puke, though, was when you knew you needed to take a test. You pick one up from the school’s bookstore before grabbing Jack from day care.

“How was your day, honey?” You say to him as you drive home.

“Good, Mumma.”

“Did you play nice with the other kids?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s good.” You smile. “You like playing with the other kids?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a best friend?”

“Yes.”

“What’s their name?”

“Ryan.”

“That’s a nice name.”

“Mhm.”

“Would you ever want to have Ryan over for a playdate?”

“Oh, yes, Mumma!” He exclaims.

“Okay, I’ll speak with Ryan’s Mummy or Daddy next time I pick you up.”

“Yay!”

When you get home, you get Jack set up with his coloring book on the kitchen floor while you start to put dinner together. You think Caesar salad would be a good dinner, and you could make some chicken nuggets for Jack. Just as you’re finishing everything up, you hear Harry coming up the stairs from the basement.

“Daddy!” Jack sprints over to him and hugs Harry’s legs.

“Hey, buddy.” He says tiredly and scoops him up. “Hi, angel.” He kisses your cheek. “Ooo, Caesar salad, yum.”

“I crisped up some tofu for us too. I’m just waiting for his chicken nuggets to finish in the toaster oven.”

“Alrighty, Jack what do you say we wash up for dinner, hm?”

You smile as Harry takes him down the hall to the bathroom. You clean up the crayons and coloring books from the kitchen floor, and get everything plated up. Harry puts Jack down in his booster seat and cuts up his chicken nuggets.

“Buster!” You whistle for him and he comes trotting in. “Here’s your dinner, baby.” You pat the top of his head before sitting down. “How was your day?”

“Good, really busy though. Our intern started today so I was runnin’ around showing them everything. You know how that goes. In a couple of weeks he’ll be a bigger help.”  You hum your response. Just as you’re about to bite into the salad, you get a whiff of the dressing you usually love. You gag slightly and stand up. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head and run down to the bathroom to throw up. Harry gets up and calls for you. You rinse your mouth out and come back out to the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, I’m fine.” You dig into your purse for the item you bought earlier and toss it on the table.

“Are you serious?” He perks up.

“I think so. I’ve been puking a lot, just like how I did with him.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” He frowns.

“I didn’t wanna get your hopes up…I don’t know. I’ll take it now.” Harry nods and sits back down to continue making sure Jack ate all his food. You come back out shortly.

“Three minutes.” You say. “I can’t eat this, ugh.”

“Can I make yeh anything else?”

“No, it’s fine. I might just munch on some crackers.” You look at Jack. “He needs a bath. Let’s get that all set before we look at the test, okay?”

“Alright.”

You and Harry give Jack a nice tubby time before reading him a story and getting him tucked into bed. You change into some pj’s, as does Harry. You both go into the downstairs bathroom to look at the test that’s been sitting there waiting for you. Harry snatches it from the counter and his eyes gloss over. He grins as he shows it to you.

“Oh my god.” You gasp.

“Guess you’ll need to see Dr. Johnson soon, huh?”

“Harry!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his around your waist and holds you close. You kiss him and nuzzle into his chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“We should keep it quiet for a bit like we did last time…just in case.”

“I agree, we won’t say anything.”

“I’ll call Dr. Johnson tomorrow. I’ll see if she can fit me in Friday since I don’t teach.”

“Sounds good, then I can meet you in town.”

//

Friday morning you drop Jack off at day care. You and Harry agreed even though you didn’t teach on Fridays, it was still a good idea for him to go to day care five days a week. It gave you a day to yourself to do whatever you needed to do.

Harry meets you at Dr. Johnson’s, and just like last time she was able to give you the good news. You were roughly eight weeks along. You could hear the baby’s heartbeat, which made you both tear up. As you left the doctor’s office, Harry joked around that you had to have conceived in London. The two of you grab a late lunch together before you go to pick Jack up. His friend Ryan would be coming over tomorrow to play.

Not many people had the pleasure of knowing your husband since you were always picking up and dropping Jack off. Only your students had ever really seen Harry. Ryan’s mother comes in for a few minutes to chat. She was a staff member in the registrar’s office.

“Jack’s been so excited. Would you like to come outside? Harry put together a jungle gym for Jack, they’ve gotta be playing on it already.”

“Sure! Thanks.” Her name was Lisa, and she was lovely. “Oh, that’s a good one. We have a similar one at our house.” She says as she steps out the sliding glass door. Harry was standing off to the side watching the boys play. “That’s your husband?” Her jaw nearly drops.

“Mhm.” You beam. “Harry, come say hello to Lisa.” You wave him over.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet yeh, Jack talks about Ryan all the time…or at least he mumbles about him.” He shakes Lisa’s hand.

“Nice to meet you too. So…wow, you’re, uh, British?”

“Yeah, grew up a few hours outside of London.”

“How did you two meet, I know you go to London quite a bit, were you on a trip?” The three of you sit down at the glass table you had in the shade on the patio.

“Oh gosh, no.” You giggle. “We met through a mutual friend. Harry went to college here. Our best friend Niall, who actually lives right down the street, set us up. Niall and I used to work together, and he and Harry went to school together.”

“Oh, I see.” She chuckles. “That’s cute, so it was a blind date then?”

“Mhm.” Harry puts his hand over yours and gives it a squeeze.

“How did you and your husband meet?” You ask.

“He’s a professor, like you. He’s in the Environmental Science department. We had kept emailing back and forth about the course catalog, and one day we finally decided to meet in person because emailing just got annoying. After the meeting he asked me if I wanted to get coffee and the rest was history. We’ve been together about ten years now. Ryan has two older siblings, he was sort of a surprise.” She laughs.

“How old are your other kids?” Harry asks.

“My oldest daughter is eight, and my other son is seven. Sort of had them back to back. Thought we were done, but here we are. Ryan thinks Jack is hilarious.”

The three of you look over at the two boys playing in the sandbox near the jungle gym. Jack comes trotting over and pulls on Harry’s shirt.

“Swing, Daddy?”

“Sure.” Harry gets up and puts Jack and Ryan on the swings and pushes them both lightly.

“He’s great with them.” Lisa says, almost in shock.

“Yeah, he’s a really good dad. We do our best to do things as equally as we can.”

“Must be nice.” She scoffs. “Arthur’s too tired to do anything half the time. He helps the kids with their homework, that’s about it. Sometimes I feel like he forgets we have a toddler.” She sighs.

Every day you knew you were lucky to have Harry, but sometimes when some of the people you interacted with talked about their husbands, you thanked God for him. You weren’t sure how people fell into certain situations or tropes, but you sure as hell couldn’t wrap your head around marrying someone misogynistic. Maybe love can just be blinding sometimes.

Jack and Ryan enjoyed their play date, and you enjoyed getting to know Lisa. She said you could definitely do it again some time. That night when you and Harry crawl into bed you both let out big sighs.

“You looked cute pushing them on the swings earlier.” You boop his nose and he chuckles, turning to face you.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“When do you think we should tell Jack he’s gonna be a big brother?”

“Probably when we tell everyone else, after my first trimester.” Harry hums his response.

“I wanna teach him all about being a good big brother, being respectful, all that stuff. He’s just so little still.”

“He’ll learn by watching. You’re a good person to watch.” Harry rubs your lower tummy and smiles.

“Think it’ll be another boy, or a girl this time?”

“I don’t know, I’m not sensing anything either way yet. I think I’ll be able to tell once the bump starts growing. Jack sat really low, if this one’s higher up we could assume a girl.”

“It’ll be nice to have one of each, don’t you think? Have a little family of four.”

“I’m sorry, what happened to having like eight kids?” You laugh.

“You know I’ve come to realize something about twenty-six year old me.”

“What’s that?”

“He was batshit crazy.” You burst out laughing. “No really, I was. In fact, I don’t even think I was twenty-six when we first talked about kids, I might have still been twenty-five. Fuckin’ idiot. I don’t know how you didn’t run for the hills, love, really.”

“I thought it was sweet. It’s nice knowing when a guy sees a future with you.”

“I was a lunatic.”

“Realistically, you only seeing us have the two?”

“I wouldn’t be upset if we had more, of course. Might be nice to see how we handle having two so young at once. I mean, Jack will still only be going to day care by the time this one’s born. They’ll have similar birthdays too.”

“Yeah, Dr. Johnson said it could be April or May when I’m due.”

“You always said you didn’t wanna be an old mom.”

“I definitely don’t wanna be thirty-five and pushing out another kid, that’s for sure. I’ll be almost thirty-one when this one comes…I could see us having three, maybe. But we’ll see. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, right?”

“Exactly.” He shifts down in the bed to give your stomach lots of kisses. “Make no mistake, though, I’m very excited. Love makin’ babies with you.” He comes back up to kiss your lips before getting off of you. “And this time around it only took us two months of trying instead of five.”

“I know! I’m really happy about that. I think the first time had to do with me having been on the pill for so long, it had to have been. This’ll be good for Jack, to have someone to grow up with. You and Gemma were so close, I love seeing it now.”

“You really don’t wanna see large age gaps do you?” He chuckles.

“And be like Lisa, having an eight year old and a two year old? No thanks. I don’t know how accidents happen anymore these days, truthfully. The second you and I are done making these kids, that IUD is staying in there. Or you can get a vasectomy.”

“Wouldn’t you miss the way my come feels?”

“Hmmm, an invasive procedure for my IUD every five years, or you getting a really quick snip?” You tap your tap your chin. “A truly tough decision.”

“Okay, okay, we said one step at a time, right?”

“Give me a kiss goodnight, you goober.”

[queenxxxsupreme]

Longing

A/N: This is my first Captain Syverson fic and omg I love him so much ok. But this fic is trash xD i just wanted to see the scenario somewhere other than in my head ok. I’ve seen a few other writers give him the name Logan and I really think that fits (it reminds of Logan Howlett and Syverson definitely had some wolverine vibes)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none :) this is completely fluffy with some angst cause I can’t help myself.

Summary: Just when you think Syverson is home to stay, his job beckons him to the Middle East. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to remind yourself that you needed to stop biting your bottom lip. You couldn't help but mess with the hem of your shirt, anxiety and impatience eating at you. 

Your boyfriend of six years would be returning home after spending seven months overseas. You had waited for this day since he boarded the plane to leave. 

The terminal was moderately busy with people scattered everywhere. Some were hurrying to get to their departing flight while others were chatting off to the side of the room. 

A small pool of green and brown U.S. Army uniforms caught your attention. Your heart began to beat even harder in your ribs and you couldn't hide the smile on your lips. 

Captain Syverson led the way through the terminal with his team right behind him. They were landing in DC and dispersing from there to go to whatever flights they needed to get home. You and Syverson lived right in DC so you were able to welcome him home. 

You’re too caught up watching him that you don't notice the look of unhappiness on his teammates’ faces. Your mind was too busy going a million miles a second, thinking of all of the things you wanted to do now that he was finally home. 

The heavy duffle bag in his hand falls to the tiled floor with a thud just in time for him to catch you as you threw yourself into his arms. 

His muscular arms were steel bars around you, holding you as close to him as possible. 

“Hey, angel.” His voice was quiet but still as deep as you remembered. 

You took a moment to squeeze him before pulling back to look into the blue eyes you loved so much. You expected to see all the emotions Syverson never showed, to see the excitement in his gaze when he looked at up. But there was no excitement, no happiness that you two were reunited afteronths apart. 

Your grip on him loosened and something began to form in the pit of your stomach–a new ball of tension and worry. 

“What, Logan? What’s-What's wrong?” You spoke quietly, afraid your voice would quit working if you spoke too loud. You feared that maybe he'd lost one of his men. 

“We got orders to go back.” His whisper wasn't enough to hide that Texan accent. 

Your heart fell to your stomach. You pulled your arms from around him, shaking your head. 

“There's been an emergency, angel. Only reason we didn't turn around mid flight was ‘cause the plane needed fuel.” 

All of the thoughts that had been swarming your mind suddenly slowed down. You couldn't process what he was saying.

“You-You’re going back?” Your voice broke and your bottom lip quiver ed. Tears came to your eyes without hesitation. “Now? But-But you just-you just got here–,”

“I know, angel.” He pulled you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair. The sweet scent of your shampoo was enough to make him second guess leaving. He missed waking up to your scent. 

His eyes closed tightly as he reminded himself that this was his job. This was what he had to do. 

Your shoulders shook with quiet sobs. You buried your face into his chest, hands fisting his jacket. You hadn't seen him for seven months and now he was leaving already. 

Syverson could feel you trembling in his arms and it broke his heart to know that you both would be separated for an unknown length of time. 

You suddenly pulled away from him. Your hands pressing against his chest. Breathing was a struggle but every inhale of oxygen burnt your lungs. Your heart was beating so loud, echoing in your ears. 

What if he died? What if this was the last time you got to see him? What if he was gone for another seven months or even longer? 

“I-I can't do this, Logan.” You told him, your words almost incoherent. “I-I can't. I worry-I worry so much. And I’m so alone and-and the house is so empty without you. I can't-,”

“Yes you can, angel.” His hands took hold of your shoulders. He gazed down at you but you couldn't meet his eyes. “You're a strong woman, angel. I love you.”

“I-I love you, Logan, but it’s just–I-I can't-I can't–,” 

He placed two of his worn and rough fingers gently under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. He cut you off with a kiss, savoring your taste and the feeling of your soft, delicate lips against his. 

“Marry me, angel.” His words were mumbled against your lips but somehow your panicking brain was able to hear him. 

You pulled away, lips parted as you breathed heavily. 

“What?” You whispered. Your brows drew together. You couldn't have heard him properly. 

“Marry me, Y/N.” He repeated, his large hand cupping your face. The pad of his thumb, calloused from years of use, brushed across the apple of your cheek to swipe away a tear. “Marry me.”

You knew the man before you wasn't romantic. The way he said it, almost like a gentle demand, was totally him. He wouldn't take you to some fancy dinner and then to some pretty location in DC to get down on one knee to propose to you with a nice ring. That kind of romance was for children, for princesses in fairy tales. 

Your life was anything but a fairy tale. You saw your beloved boyfriend of six years about as often as one would see a good acquaintance. He was a soldier for the U.S. Army before he met you and he was extremely dedicated to his job, so much so that you didn't think he'd ever want to actually settle down for anything long term. You were surprised when he so casually suggested the two of you move in together after spending a rare Sunday afternoon watching football. 

You were so used to your bed being empty and to your house being empty. You were so used to the waiting and the longing for your soldier. Some nights it would make you physically sick thinking about what could happen to him. 

You had gotten used to going out with friends and hearing them talk about what they'd done with their partners or being present when they spoke about double or triple dates. Not only would Syverson never agree to going on a double date, but he was very rarely home and when he was for the few months you got to keep him, you’d rather spend those days in bed with him watching TV or watching him change the brakes on your car because you always forget to get them changed. 

But you wouldn't change any of it for the world. Logan Syverson was everything you wanted in life and you wouldn’t change his ways for anything. 

“Yes.” You nodded your head. A new batch of tears came to your eyes and began to make their way down your cheeks. 

“Yes?” An extremely rare timid smile came to his lips, almost like he expected you to say no. 

“Yes, Logan. Yes!” You threw your arms around him once more, holding him as close to you as possible. 

His hands rubbed your sides and then slipped around you to embrace you. 

A voice came over the intercom, calling for his flight to board their plane. 

He pulled away from you, taking a second to look into your eyes. 

“I love you.” He kissed you once, then twice and three times. “In my closet, look in the box on the top of the shelf. Your ring’s in there.”

“How long have you had it?” You sniffled, smiling at him. 

“A while.” He grinned. “Love you, angel.” He gave you one more kiss before he pulled away and picked up his bag. 

“I love you, Logan.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, already missing his warm hold. 

He gave you a firm nod but he couldn't hide the smile behind his stern features. 

You giggled at him and watched him leave, one of his soldiers clapping him on the shoulder. 

As they disappeared around the corner, you choked on a sob. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth, moving to sit in a nearby empty seat. Your knees were shaking and your head spun. 

Just like that, he was gone. But at least he was still yours.

Taglist for Syverson: @promptandpros @alyxkbrl

[callixton]

okay @shannonhutchins thank you sm for enabling me domestic joshtoby headcanons LET’S GO

toby with his arm slung around josh’s shoulder and josh’s hand on his knee on their lived in couch while they yell at the tv about baseball.

josh resting his head on toby’s stomach while they read through whatever they need for the next day (if you don’t get off of me, i’m going to kill you [except toby is carding his fingers through josh’s hair] / love you too, darling).

neither of them would be into pda at all but they would still exchange soft looks and touches as they exchange papers or josh puts his hand on the small of toby’s back while moving past him. just little things that make them feel connected and let the other know their love.

the two of them falling asleep literally on top of each other bc neither of them have a sense of work-life balance and even if they’re working in shared spaces now they’re still going to go until they pass out.

TOBY GETTING DOWN ON ONE KNEE AND SAYING SOMETHING LIKE ‘i’ve gotten this wrong before but i have to believe i’m not this time’ and josh rushing to say yes as quickly as possible bc one of COURSE he wants to and two he wants andy’s rejection and the pain of that day to be the furthest thing from tony’s mind. also he’s secretly a little put out bc he was overthinking planning a proposal and toby got there first. it’s the kick in the ass he needs though and he enlists sam’s help to make a second proposal that would be really meaningful to toby.