I never thought about it before, but the phrase "to give one's hand in marriage" is (accidentally?) approaching something very sweet. I don't have much, but my hands are clever and they're yours for any purpose you set them to. If there is strength in them, it's yours to harness. If there's gentleness in them, it's yours to take comfort in. I don't always have the words, but I can hold you, I can help, I can patch things up and set them to rights. I can rub the ache from your shoulders. I can fix that damn drawer that drives you nuts. It's all well and good you have my heart, but you have my hands too and always will.
everyone had Thoughts about Nate Sewell yesterday, so here are mine, wrapped in my first unprompted, small-ish fic featuring him, my Nate-mancer Mona, and a quiet night. 👉🏼👈🏼
homefulness
pairing: Nate Sewell x f!Detective (Mona Batra)
word count: <500 words
rating: G, i hope. :'3
summary: on a quiet night with the detective, Nate is finally able to put in words what he feels about what the relationship means to him.
things just couldn’t feel any righter today. he was convinced that everything in life had been building up for him to find himself caught in this moment, this perfect little moment. a moment so powerful and yet fragile, so intoxicating and even then so sobering.
everything comes together; everything fits. the way their legs tangle, just messily enough. the way the gentle heat of the embrace keeps the chill of the late night away. the way her steady heartbeat under his ear punctuates the silence; the way it centres him. the way her hand idly strokes his hair, with so much care. the way their free hands just fit.
the faint lilt of smooth, slow jazz music begins to creep in on their moment, seemingly begging for his attention – maybe from one of her neighbours', he figures. this one time, though, it feels like an intrusion. like an eavesdropper, listening in on all that he doesn't say.
4 for M?? This one immediately reminded me of their separation anxiety ksjajsjs oops
AAAAHHHHHHHH i'm sorry this took so long but my brain answered one prompt from the list and just dipped 😬
i’m not sure how much of the separation anxiety shows here but M’s longing and they’re longing hard. 😏
4. a hug after not seeing someone for a long time: Agent Morgan x f!detective (Arzoo Shafri) ft. Farah Hauville
taken from this prompt list!
[find this on AO3 too!]
“you okay there, Morgan?” Farah’s question seemed to poke a hole in the tense bubble that Morgan had holed herself in.
“what?”
“oh, it’s nothing. only, i could hear your anxious pining outside the Warehouse,” Farah said with a smirk at the sight of Morgan’s sneer. “so, i thought to check.”
“i’m not anxious,” she spat, almost distractedly. “and i’m not pining.”
“right. whatever you say, Grumpy,” Farah pranced about, speaking in an infuriating, sing-song voice. “i believe you!”, she continued, before making a hasty exit, thus leaving Morgan alone to her thoughts.
Morgan is fine. she isn’t— she is not anxious. yes, Arzoo had gone away to the Big City for a conference and training programme that she definitely did not need to attend. yes, she had been away for about two weeks now. but Morgan wasn’t pining. she isn’t the kind of person who pines. but she does kind of miss the detective’s presence: the way it feels like the gentle warmth of the Warehouse fireplace on a particularly cold night; the way the detective stopped wearing perfumes and deodorants because of the effect they had on Morgan; the unmistakable smell of cinnamon that she carried nonetheless (it was Morgan’s favourite smell now); the way the thrum of detective’s heartbeat centred her amidst the furore of senses. Morgan’s head snaps up at the sound of a familiar thrum. that sound-- she’s here.
“i take it you missed me, sunshine?”
Arzoo chuckled, as Morgan clung to her – her arms around her neck pulling Arzoo closer, never wanting to let go. Morgan had, in a very unlike-Morgan fashion, nearly tackled Arzoo with her hug, muttering something unintelligibly into the crook of her neck.
“i didn’t quite catch that,” Arzoo chuckled, holding Morgan tighter.
well, guess there’s no two ways about it, huh. tilting her head upward ever-so-slightly, Morgan places a gentle but quick kiss on the underside of Arzoo’s jaw. she does not miss the way the detective’s breath hitches at the action, and definitely not the way the slight tinkle in Arzoo’s laugh causes this...warmth to flare across her chest. it makes her want to hold onto Arzoo even tighter, to never let her go, to keep finding ways to hear that sound again, to let Arzoo feel what she makes her feel, to kiss her senseless.
she chooses to place a kiss against Arzoo’s temple instead – trying to put her incoherent understanding of her feelings into action - as she mutters, “more than you’d imagine, sweetheart,” against it. pulling away with a smirk on her lips that doesn’t quite match the softness in her eyes, she takes her time to examine Arzoo’s face, framing it with her hands before letting out a sigh.
“let’s get to the others. Farah’s been bouncing off the walls all day,” she says, slipping her hand in Arzoo’s.
Kyojuro lets out a soft chuckle, melting into your touch. He then cups your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing your skin.
"I guess I should be asking that, my angel. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful wife. You're perfect."
— soft kyojuro.🧡
I peck at his lips, smiling a bit. "No, you're perfect, Kyou." I continued to pepper his face in small loving kisses. "You're more than perfect." Kiss. "You're" Kiss. "Beyond" Kiss. "Everything." I kissed his lips slowly, savoring this moment and imprinting it in my brain, committing it to memory.
