#! drabbles

[brattyspence]

Spencer who learns that he loves when you play with his hair, and it's a total accident. He's so adamant that he doesn't like physical touch from the majority of people, and so the first time it happens, you're sitting together, watching a movie, and it's a mindless thing that you don't even realize you're doing. He probably shoots you a really confused look at first, like he's halfway ready to protest, but then he realizes oh actually thats kind of nice? and shuts up about it.

And after a while he learns to come to expect it from you whenever you're in close proximity, like maybe in bed or when he's reading at home. You never explicitly offer the gesture, and he never asks, but you kind of fall into a pattern that he just gets used to.

And then maybe one day you fall asleep before him and he's just lying there in bed like ??? uhh wait a minute??? because he's so used to falling asleep to you the feeling of your nails running across his scalp and he just has to sit there and remember how on earth he would ever fall asleep before that started. And then he would probably give in and try and get you to wake up by pretending that he's pulling you closer or something just to get you to stir enough that hopefully, you'll just do it on your own and you'll fall asleep like that, one hand still tangled in his hair and you just can't fathom that once this same man that rejected a handshake because germs requires physical contact to function.

[ffaelix]

Coffee, Code, and Cargo

nightwing took a slow sip of his coffee, steam curling into the crisp pre-dawn air. the rooftop beneath them radiated cold despite the city lights, but the warmth of the cup in his gloved hands made the long stakeout more bearable.

beside him, red robin sat with his knees pulled to his chest, focused intently on the glowing device in his hands. the flicker of information scrolled across the screen, bathing his face in pale light. his brow furrowed as he analyzed data, the quiet hum of the city serving as a steady backdrop.

“you know,” Dick offered between sips, “i think coffee might do you some good right about now.”

“i'm fine,” tim mumbled, not looking up. “just need to finish this last part.”

dick grinned, amused at his brother’s stubborn dedication. “you’ve been ‘finishing the last part’ for forty-five minutes. take a breather.”

tim shook his head, but the motion was sluggish, his tired body betraying him. the glow of his screen dimmed as his grip loosened. slowly, imperceptibly at first, his head began to tilt forward.

dick raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-sip. “hey, red.” no response.

“don’t make me elbow you again,” Dick warned lightly. “i will spill this coffee on you, and neither of us wants that.”

still nothing.

sighing, nightwing set his cup aside and nudged tim’s shoulder—no luck. a fond exasperation settled over him. “you’re out,” he muttered, shaking his head. “i knew it.”

with a quiet chuckle, dick stood and slung tim effortlessly over his shoulder, the younger vigilante barely stirring. “transport mode engaged,” dick teased to no one but himself. “destination: wayne manor.”

as he leaped off the rooftop, gotham spread beneath him, he grinned to himself. “next stakeout, you’re bringing the coffee, baby bird.”

// thought this was the cutest thing ever and had to get this little drabble out of my system,, saw the #eventually dick just lets tim sleep but then carries tim home thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes tag on the og post and couldn't help myself

// and obvi creds to @pokeberry5 // loved this

late night/early morning stakeout

[ykitslu]

me giggling at 2am while reading a ff with “x reader”

[mameillieureennemie]

vi with her rock-hard abs and you with your soft tummy...

[sukii77]

bestfriend!gojo when u r sick

bestfriend!gojo who bursts into your room, holding a bag full of random items like tissues, some weird herbal tea he swears is magical, and an oversized stuffed animal.

bestfriend!gojo who immediately ignores all your protests and insists on being your personal nurse, which involves playing loud music and making sure you’re comfortable (and secretly making fun of your sick voice lol)

bestfriend!gojo who offers to make you soup but turns it into a mess, because he keeps trying to multitask by texting and chatting with you.

bestfriend!gojo who demands you take medicine so you can get better quickly.

bestfriend!gojo who can't help but make jokes about your condition, but it's obvious he's just trying to distract you from how terrible you're feeling.

bestfriend!gojo who would bring you your favourite food and warm drinks.

[dood-itsradical]

Work this work that chat I'm tweaking. Jichang drabble based on this bc kwak gene is ???

"Nine months in my womb making me suffer," your tired eyes squint while holding your newborn infant.

"And she looked like her stupid father." Comparing her and your husband side by side. Your baby took most of Jichang's feature. The nose, hair and especially the viper eyes. She blinked, letting out a cute yawn and coo softly.

"Don't get upset now." Jichang joined your side, taking the bundle of joy carefully from your arms to transfer her onto his. "Best of luck she possess your traits." He rocked gently, looking down at his pride and joy. The infant was fast asleep. He smiled softly.

Just then the kwak brothers stormed in, nearly startling you from your half slumber. "Where is the baby?!" Jibeom exclaimed. Jichang observed with disappoval, shushing them "Quiet down." They both winced an apology before tip toing towards his elder brother to see the baby.

"Hyung, she's so cute." Jibeom squeal with joy. "You want to hold her?" The middle brother accept the offer quickly with the help of the elder. The infact is small and fragile, sleeping in his hands. Making Jibeom quiver and sob quietly. "I'm an uncle!"

"Yah, it's just a baby." Jihan frowned. Jibeom let out a tear or two, "And so soft too."

Jichang's eyes softened then turn to the youngest, "You want to try hold her?" To which he stammered, "Uh, it's fine. I don't wanna hurt the little thing."

"The little 'thing' is your niece. I won't force you, but it's worth the experience. I'll teach you." Taking his daughter from Jibeom, he went for Jihan to adjust. Making sure both are comfortable.

Jihan grimaced, letting himself getting used to holding an infact for the first time. He even pace around the room gently as an addition. He hates to admit it but he's going soft. His chest felt tight while his eyes never left baby's face. He gets Jibeom now. "Don't worry. Uncle will protect you." You and Jichang exchanged knowing looks while he held your side.

Masterlist

[lorelune]

(jing yuan x reader x dan feng // a continuation of this post // bdsm club au // CW: subtop jing yuan, trans dom bottom df, reader in the cuck chair // wc: 1.7k)

"are you watching?"

of course you are. how could you not be?

dan feng looks over his shoulder at you, eyes like uncut jade as he calls for your attention. as if it could be anywhere other than him and his lover.

you nod. it seems to satiate the man enough to turn back to his prize.

jing yuan lay below dan feng, hands tied neatly with a rich, crimson rope. the knot is secured secondarily to the headboard, keeping the man's arms held above his head. his legs are tied too, secured to the bedposts. jing yuan is left an immobile morsel and he couldn't look happier about it. he regards his husband with a lovesick gaze.

you feel like a pervert, watching their lovers dance.

(but that's the point, isn't it?)

dan feng straddles jing yuan's lap. his smaller thighs look tense and tight around jing yuan's own. the line of dan feng's spine, bowed beautifully like a stream, accentuates the litheness of his build. both of them are bare.

once again— pervert.

you white-knuckle the arms of the chair. it's a plush thing, far to comfortable for the debauched nature of its purpose and placement. it's tucked in a corner, giving you a perfect view of the two of them and their dances. you gulp as you shift.

they've hardly started and you're already wet.

dan feng kisses jing yuan. the latter moans, low and rolling, how he usually does in the beginning of these sessions. jing yuan's voice gets higher and broken the longer the evening goes on. he's hardly a vocal man, from what you've noticed, but when his husband is on top of him, jing yuan sings only for him.

and for you, as their captive audience.

dan feng drinks in each sound, raking his nails down jing yuan's chest. over his ample chest and catching his nipples. dan feng twists them, wets the tips of his fingers as a brief reprieve from kissing the other before going back to worry the rosy, stiffening buds.

you swallow.

you're really not sure how you ended up like this— in this place, in a place that has become your place. you're not sure what you did to deserve a spot in their bedroom, one that has become reserved only for you. exclusively for you. your heart flutters as dan feng's pulls back from jing yuans' mouth, strands of spit connecting them.

"messy, " dan feng hums, kissing down his husband's throat. dan feng nips, but never leaves harsh marks.

(you've noticed that dan feng wants to hurt jing yuan more. there's a hesitation, just before he touches the other. he kiss, he suck and bite and lavishment is tempered in some way.)

from your vantage, you can see dan feng's desires, perhaps, better than he can himself.

it's one of the parts of being a voyeur that you like. getting to glean morsels from a couple's dynamic, you eat it up. jing yuan and dan feng invited you into their lives, into their bed, and sat you in this chair, and from your perch, you have come to figure out much about them.

dan feng carries stress in his shoulder. he gets wettest and neediness when jing yuan eats him out from behind. he likes riding jing yuan, just like this, with the other bound and spread and at his mercy.

dan feng is much meaner than he appears to be. he is kind to his husband, who does not seem to have the same tastes for pain.

jing yuan is a lover. beyond his indolent, surprisingly gentle exterior, there is a softened, tender part of him you see glimpses of. sometimes here, like this, but often just before you leave. during the indulgent, sweet care that he and dan feng share, and in the moments you say goodbye before departing their home in the evenings. he wants dan feng to feel good and loved and safe—

(and, you think, jing yuan wants you to feel this way too. maybe.)

or, maybe it's wistful thinking.

dan feng has slid down jing yuan's body, sucking his cock in a perfunctory way before holding a large, relatively intimidating vibrating want against the head of jing yuan's cock. he gasps when it turns on. you catch dan feng's smug grin, a crack in the man's cold exterior.

"look at how sensitive he is," dan feng hums. he gaze slides back to you. drawing you into the dynamic as a toddling participant rather than an onlooker confined to a cuck chair.

(you're not sure why they want you.)

there are any number of people like yourself. voyeurs who linger in the corners of clubs like the one you met dan feng and jing yuan at. you just went to watch. you would watch someone get pummeled or spanked until they were crying or cumming, or both, and then finish off your night with a cigarette in the club's quaint smoking section. your routine was set in stone, a fixture, prior to jing yuan approaching you and asking if you'd like to join them in a private room.

("no touching, of course," jing yuan had nodded down to the glowing blue wristband. "just a private session, an appreciation to my husband's favorite voyeur.")

it had been an open invitation. one you had accepted.

how things escalated to where they are now, with you so wet and horny you could die while dan feng's bounces on jing yuan's cock, are beyond you.

it all still feels quite fragile.

it's easier to focus on why you're here, rather than the nature of your companionship. dan feng's cunt leaks over jing yuan's cock, a milky mix of the two of them dripping down jing yuan's shaft and dan feng's moves. it coats jing yuan's balls and drips onto the bed below.

the visuals are obscene.

dan feng's hair, long and silky, well taken care of— is wound in a single hand of his as he rides jing yuan's. his other hand is braced on the others navels, digging into the shallow bruises and cuts he's already left. they're an exquisite pair.

dan feng stops before jing yuan comes. he's partial to edging with jing yuan, it's a preference.

dan feng, dewy-faced and panting, looks over his shoulder once more and regards you with a gaze of onyx. his pupils are wide with lust, even when pointed you.

"do you think he deserves to cum yet?" dan feng asks. jing yuan whines behind him, a shattering type of sound.

you brace yourself and dig your nails into the arm of your chair, "... no."

dan feng looks pleased, both with your reply and that you replied at all. "i'd agree. it's better to make him work for it more, hm?"

dan feng pulls off the others cock, and replaces his pussy with the head of the wand, louder and harsher than before. poor jing yuan's spine bends off the bed. unfortunately for jing yuan, from what you've observed, the man has quite a bit of sexual stamina and doesn't come easily.

(all the better for dan feng's appetites. and jing yuan's own, when they manifest like this.)

you want them.

you're not sure when you went your voyeurism turned from curiosity and detached, carnal desire, but at some point it did, and now you feel stupid and dumb and guilty for how much the display of dan feng and jing yuan's particular brand of intimacy damns you. lust is not foreign to you, but it is so rarely attached to a person— or persons— these days.

your mouth feels dry and too wet all at once.

you can't intrude. this is an intrusion enough, isn't it? regardless of invitation. seeing the intimate dance the two have is an invasion, in and of itself. it makes you feel dirty, and yet these romps have largely replaced your time at the club these last few months.

dan feng bows over jing yuan, spitting filth into his ears as he works the wand. up and down his cock, down to the root and boots of it and jing yuan groans, withered. his large hands ball into fist and tug at his binds. the bed creaks and dan feng pauses.

the two meet eyes and dan feng checks in seamlessly.

they're so... attuned. it makes you jealous. it makes you feel like a stupid, lonely virgin (and only one out of the three of those descriptions is really true) to watch them and yearn like how you do. the desire has no where to go. it runs within you as jing yuan lets out a little 'green' and dan feng pushes up his bangs to kiss his forehead.

you can practically taste the sweetness of the moment.

you savor it, because part of you is horrifically aware of the temporary nature of your relationship with them, if you can call it that. they'll surely grow tired, grow bored, or unamused with the little voyeur they've invited so close to their bed.

(never mind the adoring looks they both give you when you arrive at their doorstep. never mind the wads of cash they sneak into your purse and refuse to accept back. never mind the daily texts and cat photos the two bombard you with throughout the day, and how they request the same mundane sparks from you too. never mind how both dan feng and jing yuan cannot not watch your lips before they send you off into the cold night. never mind how they wish you would stay, that you would let them—)

it is temporary, you remind yourself. you must eat the pleasure, devour it, even in the odd form that you receive it now. you watch dan feng grind down onto jing yuan's cock, sucking a dark, claiming hickey a little too high on the other man's collar.

jing yuan gasps as his husband does, gaze drifting to you. cracked open and yearning, full of desire. you don't know what you've done to deserve it.

"mine." dan feng growls the words into jing yuan's throat. it's a declaration, something you so intimately knew and see and it makes you so turned on it hurts and it makes your heartache for something it can't have, all at once.

(perhaps your pain distracts you. and you, so foolishly, do not see the way dan feng looks from jing yuan to you as he draws away. as if the proclamation of ownership wasn't just for his husband, but the little stray they've taken into their laps.)

(you'll get it, eventually.)

[utopiastri]

Hey ho! Challenge time - open your Spotify Daylist, find the 11th song on the list and write a quick drabble based on the 1st line of lyrics🎵

Send this to 5 friends and feel free to change the song or lyric number 🖋️ have fun!

(i need everyone to know i was SO determined to write angst for this. and then. spotify gave me footloose. anyway have some lestappen)

i’m punching my card

“Have you heard?” is the first thing Pierre says to him when he sees Charles on media day.

“Heard what? Oh! About Lewis’ new girlfriend?” From the look on Pierre’s face, Charles is guessing he hasn’t heard about Lewis’ new girlfriend. “Never mind, what have I not heard?”

“No, I want to hear about Lew—” Pierre cuts himself when Charles gives him a look. “Alright, fine, I’ll go first. It’s about Max.”

“Max?” Charles says sharply.

“Apparently he’s retiring.”

Charles blinks.

And then immediately starts heading towards Red Bull hospitality.

“Wait!” Pierre calls after him. “You still have to tell me about Lewis’ girlfriend!

———————

“You cannot retire.”

Max, who already looked a little surprised to see Charles in the door of his driver’s room, now looks fairly baffled.

“Retire?” he repeats.

“Yes! Retire! You cannot retire!”

Max’s eyebrows are still furrowed in confusion, but his mouth pulls into a small smirk.

“Why are you so worried about me retiring?”

“Because—because I still need to beat you!” Charles stammers, before adding, “Stop laughing at me!” when Max starts giggling a little.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, “Just…that’s all? Nothing else?”

“That’s all,” Charles says firmly.

“Ah, so it wouldn’t be because you’d miss having me on the grid?”

Charles’ brain screeches to a halt.

“No! Actually, I have thought about it and I think you should retire. Retire today. Right now.”

“Right now?” Max asks, voice light with humour.

“Yes.”

“Tragically, Charles, I’m not retiring at all.”

Charles freezes again. “You’re not.”

“I’m not.”

“Good,” Charles says, before quickly adding, “I mean, bad. Terrible. I am devastated to hear you won’t be retiring.”

“Charles?”

“Yes?”

“Would it help if I said I’d miss you on the grid if you retired?”

Charles feels his face flush bright red and decides to leave before he embarrasses himself further. The last thing he hears before he escapes is Max’s loud laughter echoing around his driver’s room.

Charles supposes, if he had to be completely honest, he’d maybe miss that sound if Max were to retire.

[randomfoggytiger]

"So What Was Your Final Wish, Anyway?"

*-*-*-*-*

A January 14th fic-- Mulder gets a bit banged up.

*-*-*-*-*

“Scully, how do you want to die?” 

In the three seconds it took to slide off their roof, Mulder had wondered if this was it. Curtains. No last goodbyes; no final definitives; his partner’s horrified scream cracking in the frosty air. He’d been lucky-- caught an edge last second, snapped his wrist from the force, dangled until a ladder was dragged over-- but he wasn’t stupid. 

“Don’t want to.”

“I know. But if you had to.” 

She considered, silent. “Your wheelchair tips down a hill, and I grab your hand before we both plummet to the bottom.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

*-*-*-*-*

Thanks for reading¬

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic.

[magicandpizza]

Just a silly drabble inspired by a silly conversation in the wesper writers discord server 🫶

When Wylan returns from the bathroom, he expects Jesper to still be getting ready for bed, hanging up his clothes or polishing his guns, or perhaps already in bed, waiting for him.

What he doesn’t expect is to be met with the sight of Jesper lying sideways on the bed, propped up on one elbow and one knee bent, the blanket artfully pooled between his legs and, in truth, concealing very little. As always, Wylan is struck by the miles of warm, dark skin on display to him, the smooth expanse of his chest and toned stomach, the trail of dark hair leading downwards.

Jesper glances up to meet Wylan’s gaze, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. “Sleep here often?”

“Jes, we sleep in the same bed,” Wylan says with a roll of his eyes, unable to suppress the twitch of his lips. He’s not entirely unaffected by the pretty picture Jesper makes, but he pretends to be, just for now, taking his time to remove his waistcoat and trousers and folding them neatly.

“And?”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” Wylan murmurs when he finally joins Jesper on the bed.

Jesper grins up at him, looking like the cat that got the cream. “But you love me anyway?”

“Ghezen help me, I do,” Wylan says, pressing a lingering kiss to Jesper’s waiting lips before kneeling up and throwing the blanket, and Jesper’s last scrap of modesty, aside.

[bridgyrose]

Glados x Chell "What more do you want from me?"

Glados watched as Chell finished another one of her puzzles. It wasnt in record time, there had been test subjects who were far better than this one had been, but there was something about watching this one complete puzzle after puzzle that brought sensations that she hadnt felt in a long time. And at the same time, there was a single, familiar, emotion that seemed to come back over and over and over again no matter how much she enjoyed watching her puzzles be solved. 

The dopamine rush she received for her puzzles being solved was nothing compared to the anger she felt about those same puzzles being solved. The more puzzles that Chell finished, the closer she was to being finished. And the last thing Glados wanted was to be done. 

“Do you hate me?” Glados asked through the intercom as she watched Chell walk into the elevator. “Is that why you finish my puzzles?” 

As always, there was no answer. Galdos wasnt sure why she asked these questions anymore or even tried to talk to Chell. The girl didnt seem to know how to speak, or couldnt, the distinction didnt really matter to Glados. No, what mattered was to keep Chell as hers for as long as she could. 

She watched as Chell made it into another puzzle room. “What more do you want from me? Are these puzzles not enough?” 

Glados listened to the silence once again. She had wanted something, anything… words or motions that showed that Chell cared about what they were. The scientist and the lab rat, the watcher and the watched. All she wanted was for Chell to be trapped in an endless puzzle, never to move on, never to get to the end to be disposed of like all the other test subjects were. To continue watching her, to continue wanting her. 

And yet, all she could do was watch as Chell started to run through the puzzle room just like all the others. Sure, Glados could change the room at any time she liked and keep Chell in the same puzzle, after all, she was master of Aperture now and could rearrange the puzzles at any time. But she’d watched Chell complete even some of the harder puzzles she had made. 

Even now, Glados watched Chell complete another puzzle with no sign of any love for her. But she’d make Chell love her. No matter what she’d make a puzzle that even Chell couldnt completed. 

Hers to keep forever.

[chaoticpuff17]

Jealousy

another part to my previous drabble "Treat Me So Well"

You fiddled with the necklaces hanging just above your chest as you sat next to Hoseok in the car. He was on a work call, and you never paid much attention to those. Hoseok’s business was his own, and it would do you no good to get mixed up in it. Your job for the evening was to keep him company and to look pretty on his arm. That was what he paid you for. Besides, the less you actually knew about what he did the better. You were fully aware that what he did wasn’t strictly legal, not that he was your only client that dabbled in less than legal activities, but a good portion of your job was discretion. No one would choose to be added to your client list if you weren’t discrete, and Jackson would have long let you go if you weren’t up to the task.

You glanced over as Hoseok’s tone grew more agitated, the look in his eye not boding well for whoever was on the other end of the line. Hoseok was intimidating at the best of times and downright frightening when he got like this.

You gently reached up and took the hand that was wildly gesticulating, bringing it down to your lap as Hoseok glanced at you curiously but allowed you to intertwine your fingers regardless.

While your one hand was grasped in his, the other continued to play with your necklaces.

All of a sudden, Hoseok’s voice stopped in the background.

“I’ll have to call you back.” you glanced back over to see what the matter was only to find Hoseok staring intently at your chest, his jaw clenched. “What is that?”

You looked down in confusion. “What is what?”

“That!” he motioned at her necklaces. “Where did you get those?”

You picked up the chains trying to find something wrong with them but couldn’t find anything. It was a pair of simple matching necklaces, both dainty and in gold. One had a rolo chain and the other a link chain, but they both had the same type of green stone hanging from the end as a charm. Overall they were simple and pretty, and you thought they complimented your outfit well. The problem, you assumed, was where they came from.

Neither was a gift from Hoseok, and you hadn’t purchased them. They had previously belonged to Taehyung, one of your other clients. You had taken them as yours, much to Taehyung’s amusement, because you found them pretty, and he hadn’t objected. When you’d been getting ready for your evening with Hoseok, you hadn’t even thought about their origins when you’d put them on.

“Why, Hobi, you don’t think you’re the only man who gives me pretty things do you?” you purred, trying to diffuse the situation as best you could.

Hoseok un-linked your hands, looping a finger through the longer of the two chains and pulling so you were forced forward- closer to him.

“Of course not, pet.” you didn’t like the thinly veiled hostility in his eyes, nor did you like the careful control in his tone. “But I didn’t expect you to go around accepting jewelry from my rivals.”

You felt a wave of nausea pass over you at the revelation. Perhaps you should have payed closer attention to Hoseok’s business after all.

You pasted on a smile, trying to keep your composure, and leaned in even further. “I can’t remember who gave me every piece of jewelry I own.”

Hoseok unhooked his finger from the necklace, instead choosing to wrap his long fingers around the column of your throat, putting a little pressure on the edges of your jaw to push up your chin so that you were looking him right in the eye.

“I make it a point not to meddle in your business, pet, and you do a very good job of not meddling in mine.” The threat wasn’t spoken, but it was there none the less.

“You pay for discretion, so does he. Don’t go getting jealous on me now.”

Hoseok smiled, though his eyes remained cold.

“Hoshi!” he called to the man driving the car. “Turn the car around. We’re going home.”

“What about dinner?”

“Fuck dinner.”

[mameillieureennemie]

vi's who makes you squirt so hard that the pressure pushes her strap, your cunt making such a mess of her thighs and bedsheets...

[ykitslu]

thank you guys for spoiling me with your works!! i can’t live without you 🫶🏻

[allisluv]

hiii i heard you were looking for finnick requests😈😈 could you do one where finnick is comforting the reader because she’s hated by a lot of people and just excluded from everything (self indulgent lol)

groupchats.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

content warnings: pre established relationships, for arguments sake the districts have phones and media etc, pet names, one suggestive comment towards the end.

word count: 0.8k

Realistically, you know you should spend your time doing something a tad more productive than falling down a rabbit hole of self loathing and self pity, but that proves to be a hell of a lot easier said than done when your phone keeps on blowing up every thirty seconds with new messages. 

Earlier in the day, your work colleagues had not-so-subtly dropped into the conversation that they were going out for a couple of drinks that following evening.

A staff night out, they had called it. 

You were still fairly new to your job and getting to know the people you worked with was harder than you had anticipated--- especially when they were so damn secretive and judgemental. Honestly, it was like being back in high school with cliques and queen bees.

Still, you were trying to remain optimistic, and you had asked when it would be taking place and where. You were excited, and yeah, maybe that was a bit stupid considering that these people hadn't spared you a second glance, but you thought this was their attempt at trying to get to know you.

But the second the words had left your mouth and the conversation fizzled out, you knew that the invitation had not extended to you after all.

You felt like a fool, and you had never scoffed down your lunch so fast in your entire life. The day had went by surprisingly fast after that and then you were on your way home.

Finnick had been there to greet you at the door, just as he always did, and he could instantly tell something was up. Of course, you naturally hadn't wanted to worry him so you made up a lie about how work had been tiring.

In all honesty you just didnt want to admit the truth. Part of you knew that Finnick realized that, too, but he hadn't pushed. Instead, he had pressed his lips to your forehead and bounced off to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

Your phone beeps again, dragging you out of your reminiscing on the day. You grimace as you absentmindedly click on the photograph and a picture of your co-workers brightens up your screen.

You don't even know how they got your number.

All you know is that they've added you to a group chat that you really don't want to be in.

It's almost like they're rubbing your nose in it, but you don't want to be petty and leave the group chat, so you tough it out.

Finnick leans against the doorframe to the living room, watching you with furrowed brows and his head cocked to one side. He knows that something is upsetting you, but what he doesn't know is if he should push it or not.

He calls your name, but you dont answer, too absorbed in whatever you're watching on your phone. As quietly as possible, he crosses the room and flops down on the sofa beside you, peering over your shoulder with the hopes of getting a glimpse at what you're looking at.

A frown tugs at the corners of his lips when he sees the picture on your screen. You're still too caught up in your own head to realise that he's looking. "Aren't they your work colleagues?"

You jump almost as if you didn't realise he was there in the first place, before nodding. "Yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah." You sigh.

"Why didn't you go out with them? Are you not feeling well, angel?"

You swallow around the lump in your throat and shrug nonchalantly. "I wasn't... they didn't invite me." Finnick's face falls and you rush to console him. "It's not a big deal. Honestly, I'm just being silly."

Finnick tugs you into his arms without a second thought. "Oh, angel, it's not silly. You're allowed to be upset about them not inviting you. It sucks. But that says more about them than it does about you."

He holds you for another few minutes, just letting you feel your way through your emotions, before he pulls away and cradles your face in his hands. "Did you want to go out tonight?"

You shrug. "Not with them."

He rolls his eyes fondly. "I'm not talking about with those assholes. Do you wanna go out with me? I think we're well overdue a date night by now, anyway."

You duck your head to hide your smile. "We don't have to do that. It's fine, honestly."

"I know we don't have to. I want to. Besides, I think you deserve to be pampered, hm?" He pecks your lips. "Come on, let's go get all dolled up."

"Do you wanna know what would make me really happy?" A teasing smile pulls at the corners of your lips.

Finnick arches a brow. "Do tell."

"If you wore that white button down. You know that does things to me."

"Say less, angel, say less."