#and after all that they build a routine of bringing gifts when around that point and talking about their recent efforts one sidedly

[arolesbianism]

Gotta love my favoritism being obnoxiously obvious in new game+ (Odile is not only present but also one of the major set pieces that Chou regularly visits every loop (Mira is also technically around in the house but she doesn't get monologued at by Chou so my point still stands))

[sunnie-angel]

A Pocketful of Sunshine

For @jasonsmirrorball my beloved (based on this, and building on this characterization)

ao3 link

He doesn’t tell you outright, but you’ve gotten good at reading the secret language of Jason Todd. You notice the thickness of his sweaters, his tendency to wear many layers, the way his boots are functional and warm. You take note of how his apartment is always a few degrees warmer than comfortable. Yet his hands when you hold them are always cool to the touch. On sunny days when you’re closer to a puddle of sweat than a person, his touch remains strangely cool. How sometimes you’ll go days without seeing him after a snap cold spell, Jason unwilling to explain and you reluctant to press. Your worry after returning late one night to find him staring out the darkened window, your routine kiss hello like pressing your lips to ice, something about it stirring him out of his statue state. The only thing you can conclude is that something about the cold haunts him. But something about the warmth will bring him back to you.

So you find a way to carry warmth with you. You take to carrying little hand warmers in your pockets. Stashes of them squirreled away in handbags, around the apartment, even in a small box in the closet. A reflective shock blanket, folded down to the size of a notepad, is always in your tote bag. You gift him lined leather gloves just in time for winter. A new heating pack finds a home next to the microwave. You’ll compliment his sweaters, envious over how cosy they look. Whenever you’re out together, more often than not you’ll wrap your scarf around him at the first sign of a shiver. It gets to the point that you joke about learning to knit so he’ll have his own scarf. The look of wonder in his eyes at opening a handmade scarf for Christmas spreads a different kind of warmth in your chest. (The way he starts calling you ‘sunshine’, leads to a different kind of heat)

It becomes a routine for you both. Slipping hand warmers into his palms when his grip becomes too icy. Tucking extras into the pockets of his jacket, a just in case measure. Getting used to the pile of blankets in your shared bed. Ridiculous matching fuzzy socks for afternoons reading together on the couch. On nights when his eyes go unseeing, wrapping his arms around a gently warmed heating pad. Every time he comes back to you, the warmth in his eyes is everything. You’ll never enjoy when he sticks his cold feet against your shins, but he’ll laugh when you grumble and that’s enough.

Jason starts to reach out more than he hides away. When the first signs of cold start pressing in, he’ll come to you. Ask where the heating pack is, or if you’ve seen his scarf. He knows perfectly well where everything is in the apartment, but it’s his way of letting you know he’s not all right. It’s an imperfect system, there’s still misunderstandings and petty fights, but it’s a start. You know now that whatever dark place the cold drives him to, he’ll always come back to you.

So you’ll be patient, slipping him hand warmers and wrapping him up, until the day he’ll tell you why. You trust that one day he’ll find the words to tell you about the places his mind traps him in, why the cold affects him so. But for now you’ll keep each other warm and that love will be enough.

[tac-the-unseen]

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson Sfw alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s actually pretty affectionate. Any chance he has to hold your hand or kiss you, he takes it, including missions. He’s told you he takes just a little bit of time to love you because ‘I’ll never know when our time has come.’ He wants the last memory you have of him to be a loving one, and he wants his last to be spent thinking about his unending love for you.

And don’t think for a second that because he can’t talk he won't praise you. He leaves you notes or texts that tell you just how much he really loves you. He puts sticky notes on all the doors he knows you'll walk through. Every mirror, the fridge, your desk, computer monitor, windows, everywhere he knows you'll see them.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You two got close to each other while on a long mission. It was hard not too, Saving each other's lives on the daily can really bring people together. You ate every meal together, watched out for each other, took your time to understand what he wanted to say. You were able to build trust in each other fairly quickly because of this. By the time the mission ended it felt like you two had known each other forever. You were able to slip into a routine with him fast, becoming the first and last person you spoke to every day. It wasn't long before Gary started to catch feelings for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He likes cuddling, He doesn’t love it but he likes how it easily communicates his love for you. It's simple, but when you're with a guy that can’t speak, every little thing he does is noticeable and a declaration of his affection. The reason he doesn't like it too much is that even though he is normally cool as a cucumber, he can get overwhelmed pretty fast. He tries to let you know it’s not your fault, but it's hard to communicate that when he's overwhelmed. So even though he loves giving you physical attention he might pull away from this kind.

Sleeping is the exception to this, He always cuddles you at night. When it comes to cuddling positions he loves to hold you and wrap his whole body around you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes and No. He loves you, but he also loves his job. He loves the thrill and adventure and doesn’t want to give that up. He’ll buy you a house, he’ll live with you, but he will yearn for adventure. If at some point he’s on leave or simply allowed to go home he’ll take a break for like, a week. But after that he’s planning hikes, camping trips, rock climbing, stuff like that.

He's an okay cook, he's great on the grill though (His steaks are to die for).

He can clean, the military is really strict about cleanliness. If you need something cleaned up or otherwise taken care of, just point and he's on it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He breaks up with you face to face. He makes a list of the reasons why it wouldn't work. He makes it gentle and softly gives you the news. He feels bad about the break up and because he's awkward gives you a 50 dollar gift card to your favorite store or restaurant.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is willing to commit to you, but he will take his time to make sure you're the right one. He might be fast in a relationship but when it comes to marriage he takes his time.

When he’s sure he wants to marry you, he will plan everything out meticulously. He will secretly get your ring size, figure out what kind of ring you want, and what your dream proposal is. If you don't have a dream proposal he will combine his own dream and the things you like.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Gary’s soft with you. He opens up to you and lets you open up to him. He’ll use sign language or notes to tell you about his past and feelings. He tells you about what he wants to do with his life or what he wishes to do with you.

When it comes to physicality he's still soft with you. He loves to hold you and softly touch you. Gary loves to hold your hand and hug you from behind. It's the easiest way to communicate his love for you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs but tries to make sure he touches you in appropriate times. It's hard to find the right times when you're fighting for your life all the time. When you get back to base or back to home, He's all over you. It's these times when he's okay with cuddling and prolonged touching.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

When teaching you to sign he left out how to sign ‘i love you’ because he didn’t want it to feel like he was forcing you to say it or that he was love bombing you. He was secretly signing ‘I love you’ but you didn’t have to know that. you aren't fluent in sign so it's not like you noticed.

He was being sent on a mission where he wouldn’t have any contact with you for several months. You two were outside while other soldiers entered the awaiting helicopters. He was in all his gear, mask up, and an ACR strapped on his back. After you had signed your goodbyes and he was at the entrance of the helicopter, He turned around and signed “I love you so much”. He didn’t expect anything to happen after as normally nothing did. Until you signed back ‘Love you more.’

In truth he hasn’t stopped thinking about that day.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

If put on a scale it would be 6/10. He's not insanely jealous, but he can't help the pit in his chest he feels when you're talking to another guy. He can play nice and not get deep into it, but as soon as the guy starts flirting, his nice act is out the window.

A fellow soldier decided to make a sudden and not at all anticipated comment on your ass…while Gary was in ear shot. It took Gary all of 3 seconds to send the guy flying and knock him on his ass. Gary was reprimanded as the soldier lost 4 of his teeth in that fight, Oh and the broken collarbone didn’t help either.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

This is the one part of the relationship (besides Marriage) that took the longest to happen. This is because it involved taking his mask off.

Once he was comfortable with you and the idea of seeing his face, he'd let the mask go and kiss you. It was actually the first thing he did when he took off his mask.

You two were in his room, sitting on his bed, you two had a long talk about his face and trust. After this Gary removed his mask and eye gear and held your hand. He took a breath then kissed you softly and passionately. It was a Huge milestone in your relationship.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Gary is okay around kids, He can handle them for bits at a time, but kids don't seem to like him that much. Kids don’t like the silence, it unnerves the little ones. But he's kind and careful and has told you that if you want kids he'll do better with them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He just wants to hold you a little longer, To spend these gentle moments with you for as long as he can. He's the one telling you to come back to bed, pulling you back into bed and into his arms. He makes grumbles and noises of pleasure when you slither back into his arms. He may not be able to Tell you he loves you, but the kisses, noises, and cuddles speak for themselves.

Once he's out of bed and stepping into the day, He’ll get into his chores and start cleaning up from the night before and help you in your morning routine. Once he's done cleaning up and you're cooking breakfast you better believe he's hugging you from behind.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Gary has a tough time going to bed. You have to convince him to come to bed and get some sleep. You can get him to bed by reminding him of the warm mornings or promises of intimacy.

He will slowly do his nightly routine to prolong the inevitable. He'll take his time cleaning up, showering, brushing his teeth, a little bit of skin care, then begrudgingly climbing in bed. His apprehension is swiftly thrown out the window once he is in your arms and in a warm bed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It depends on what he's opening up about. Because He primarily uses sign language and writing to talk to you he can easily edit but for the most part he's pretty open with you. However there are something he would never tell you, no matter how close you guys are.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He is even tempered most of the time, He rarely gets angry outside of the battlefield. When he does get angry it's not at you and is never taken out on you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Gary remembers the little things, he’s hooked on every word you say. He writes what he thinks is important down. If you like to talk, well great, he likes to listen.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You had found a box of kittens while on a mission. You had taken and hidden them from your teammates and captain. Gary found out about this when one night he caught back at base cooing of a blanket that meowed back.

You had explained yourself and told him you just wanted them to be safe and you were trying to find them a home. He kept the secret and helped you care for the kittens. You made the kitten get a good home and occasionally get updates about them. He loved seeing you in a Domestic light and liked feeling like a parent even if it was only for a few days.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's on guard all the time, He is a war criminal. He can be a silly little guy then into a serious scary soldier.

Physically: He will defend you till his last breath. He will do everything he can to make sure you're safe.

Emotionally/Mentally: He will make sure he's always there for you to lean on. His soft, loving personality gets even more soft and loving. He makes sure to free up time just to check on you and hold you.

When it comes to his safety, just knowing you care is enough for him to feel better.

Physically: He would rather die than have you put yourself in danger to save him. But if you do, he will enterally appreciate you and your love for him.

Emotionally/Mentally: He doesn’t like asking for help but when he does, it should be taken very seriously. Sometimes he just needs someone that nods while he signs away at what's troubling him. Other times he just needs to have someone to hold onto.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Depends on why you're having a date night. Obviously he’s not going to pull out all the stops for a casual date night but he's not doing the bare minimum either.

He puts in the appropriate amount of effect for your dates and makes sure it's something you'll enjoy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a habit of sneaking food. The military trains soldiers to simply inhale the small portion of food given to them. Even though there is extra food he waits until he thinks no one is looking to ‘steal’ another piece. Everyone knows, no one says a word.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

The mask is really just to keep his identity safe. Even though it takes him a while to take it off, that's mostly to make sure he can really trust you. He is not too concerned with his looks but that doesn’t mean he has no concern about his looks.

Gary never really thought to care about anyone's opinion, but that changed fast when he developed feelings for you. He can and will clean up if you ask him to.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

It's a slow burn when it comes to this deep level of attachment. At first you were just this really cool friend, then best friends, then partners. You fell deeper and deeper into his heart before you became the center of it.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He communicates mostly through sign language, which he made sure to teach you. He took you step by step, getting you to understand how the language is ACTUALLY structured. He loved watching you try and figure out what he said and how to respond.

Outside of work, Roach has a couple deaf friends that he take on hikes and fishing trips.

If you ever get married, Ghost is his best man.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone unwilling to learn sign. Its his main way of communicating and its frustrating to write down everything he wants to say all the time.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He has to be practically dragged to bed if you want him to sleep.

The best way to get him to bed is too softly play his favorite music, lay down, and give him puppy dog eyes.

What is he going to do? Say no to you and that pretty look on your face? Absolutely not, he's flying into that bed.

Thanks for reading <3

[nrdmssgs]

Ok I'm gonna request something! Put it at the back of your list or feel free to ignore!

And my request is... free reign. As in, whatever you feel like writing, to your heart's content, involving Riot or not, but fluffy happy things! Love you! <3

Masterlist

Fluff, a bit of comedy.

Pairings: Ghost x Riot (Riot belongs to @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot ) And a bit of Nikolai x Zhar from A heart full of pity

Summary: Friends gathering. Silly, happy, peaceful. Riot and Ghost just having their little moment of domestic bliss. Nik and Zhar forgetting for one evening, that they have Chimeras to subdue.

AN: This happens wa-a-ay after A heart and your story. Love, I remember, you wanted many kisses. I'm sorry, I really tried, but I didn't want Ghost to feel uncomfortable. At the same time, I wanted them all to spend some time together. So it was either\either situation. How about a pact? If you need a story without my chaotic guys - just send me a req, that says "kisses" and I shall deliver.

“I feel like lately I’ve been asking this question too much, but do I need to know?” Ghost didn’t try to spy on Riot, but he couldn’t make himself unsee that vulgar cover of a paperback book, she just purchased in a duty-free shop.

“That’s a gift from us.” Riots wears a mask, but Ghost learned to read in her expression by this time. If he had to bet, he’d say, she has the most mischievous grin right now and this doesn’t bode well.

“You'll spoil them, and they'll invite you every chance they get...” Simon side-eyed her, but it seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

“Oh, don't get jealous, I'll take you with me occasionally.”

***

They both are secretly happy, no one met them: Nikolai may have been a madly skilled pilot, but his driving style wasn’t something, one would wish to start their relaxing weekend with, and Zhar would immediately start talking about work. Ghost and Riot would maybe not admit it openly, but they lived for these little domestic moments, they got now: seeking for their car rental desk, buying shitty, but so much needed coffee in small thin paper cups and enjoying it on a parking lot, squinting at the bright rays of morning sun, checking their maps, lazily going through unfamiliar radio stations. This is such a desperately needed routine, they both seem to do everything slightly slower to savor every moment.

Riot sets coordinates of their destination and explains something to Ghost, pointing to a monitor on their dashboard, but he seems to not really listen. He looks at her, not tearing eyes from her face for a single moment, and almost unconsciously reaches out and caresses her cheek. An urge to feel her proximity, suppressed by Ghosts power of will, finally manifests in simple, careful and soft touch. It disarms, yet brings peace, catches her off-guard - yet comforts.

They pull to a lonely road that winds through the forest and slowly climbs uphill. Riot looks from her phone to Ghost, since there are no exits from their road anyway.

"You think, he is reckless enough to somehow tinker building of an entire road, just to be able to get to his house comfortably?" She wouldn't be surprised, if Ghost shared her opinion.

"I think, when it comes to Nikolai - it's better not to ask or think too much, if you want to sleep soundly." Ghost glances around, but the road is caged between two thick walls of forest trees, so there is not much to look at anyway.

When they finally reach their destination, Riot opens her door and takes a slow breath. Deep inside, she is ready to admit, that even if some sketchy schemes were involved, while building this all - it was totally worth it. A dark silhouette of a spacious house hides behind pine trees. Distant bird trills and the echo of a babbling brook bounce off the mountain wall, behind them. Apart from that - this place is immersed in a peaceful silence. A freshness of the mountain wind, and a scent of wet pine needles and resin fill the air.

"Long ago there was a safe house somewhere around here. We used to stay there for a few days with Price," Ghosts breaks the silence, coming from the car.

"It's still there. Well, almost there - I converted it into a guest house, so there was a bit of renovation and moving included." A familiar accented voice comes from behind. Riot and Ghost simultaneously turn towards the sound and see Nikolai smiling broadly at them. He emerges from somewhere in the woods, wiping a military knife with a cloth.

Nik nods to Ghost, but when Riot greets him the same way - he shakes his head, extending hands to embrace her. "Idi syuda, solntse. My skuchali po tebe.*" Pulling her into a bear hug, he was still careful enough to keep distance between Riot and a knife in his hand. Any other person on his place would die right after that, under Ghosts death glare, but Nikolai didn't pay too much attention to that.

Leading them into his house, Nikolai invites Riot and Ghost to make themselves comfortable on the veranda or in the living room. "Feel free to explore house and raid the wine cellar. I have some business to tend to." Nikolai was about to leave them two alone, but Riot stopped him on the doorstep.

"Ahem, Nik? You didn't forget anyone?" As shifty as Nikolai sometimes got - even he couldn't escape her, when Riot wanted answers.

"I didn't tell her about you coming here, otherwise, I'd have to tie poor thing up to keep her away from kitchen and cleaning. So she's working somewhere back in town. I think, she'll be back in an hour or so." When Nik talked about Zhar - he always smiled, even when he was obviously not happy with how restless she could get.

"You don't tie a former TF lieutenant up if you value your life," noticed Riot, following Nikolai to the kitchen counter, where some vegetables were laying besides a cook book.

"Oh, I highly recommend it - believe me, those workaholics sometimes don't understand other languages." Nik found a recipe, he was looking for, and left to fetch the rest ingredients.

"¿Qué tonto del culo escribió esto?*" Her voice was so mad, Nikolai shuddered. When he turned back to Riot - Ghost was already by her side.

"You see this? See?! ¡Insultan a toda la nación con estas tonterías!* And it says 'Spanish cuisine' right here! 'Spanish', my ass..." Riot hissed through her teeth as she showed Ghost the recipe.

Before Nikolai could understand, what was happening, he and Ghost were already standing before cutting boards, which Riot loaded with veggies and meat and gave each of them detailed instructions on what to do next. Nik wanted to ask Simon, what was going on and how does one end this, but Ghost was ahead of him. "Don't complain and just do whatever she commands."

Riot stood beside them for a while, supervising the preparation of the ingredients. Convinced that both men were doing exactly what they were told, she turned around. "I guess, I'll raid that wine cellar of yours after all. Let's hope, there is at least some decent Rioja wine there..."

"Fifth row from the bottom, left side," guided her Nik, not turning away from his cutting board.

***

In an hour, another car parked before the house. Zhar flew in with such speed and hurried to the second floor that she did not notice the guests.

"Nebo moye*, I have a surprise for you," called her Nikolai.

"Niigard is out! So as long as your surprise is not a seasoned tactical operator - it has to wait for a bit, ok?" As expected, Zhar was constantly throat deep in her work.

"How about two of them?" Ghost suddenly intervened in their conversation. For a moment, everything felt silent. But then they heard fast steps descending back to the first floor. Zhar was so happy to see them both - she completely ignored the fact, that Ghosts hands were red of the meat, that he chopped, and she shook them anyway. And when she saw Riot - she couldn't stop smiling, hugging her tightly.

"Ok-ok." She finally let go of Riot. "What are we cooking?"

"They are cooking, darling. And we don't lift anything heavier than wine glasses today, so let's go." Riot is about to lead her out of the kitchen, when she notices Nikolai desperately but silently pointing at Zhars pocket. "Yes, this," Riot takes out a work phone from Zhar's pocket and leaves it on the kitchen counter, "This is obviously way heavier, so it stays here." When they both leave, Nikolai turns to Ghost. "Lieutenant, Riot is an angel, and you are a blessed man."

***

At dinner, they all have a relaxed slow talk, remembering how each of them learned to cook. Ghost tells about his and Price's nighttime forays into the kitchen, and the others can't help but laugh. Then Zhar remembers how her parents taught her how to can vegetables so that they would last for ages.

"How come you never told me, you could cook that?" asks her Nik.

"What, that would have helped me in bargaining for higher pay rate in Chimera?" Maybe it's an outcome of Riots good choice of wine, but Zhar seems to be in so rare for her mischievous state of mind.

"Whoa, that reminded me of something!" Riot grins and leaves them for a short moment. When she comes back, Ghosts notices the book, she purchased before their flight, in her hands.

"Before anything happens here - I have to state, I have nothing to do with that." Simon grunts, glancing at the book cover. Zhar and Nikolai look at him in confusion.

"Don't be so dramatic, Ghost, it's just a small gift to make our friends happy. It's... kind of a manual to that one, I guess." Riot points at Nik, but gives book to Zhar.

"Hm, never knew, Nik comes with a manual. I should check if there is a guarantee as well, o-o-oh..." At first, Zhar falls silent, her eyebrows rising in surprise when she sees the cover. Nikolai tries to peek over her shoulder, but she gets up and moves away, leisurely leafing through the book. With each page turned, her face becomes more mysterious. "Ok, there is no guarantee here. But apparently there is 'an exciting and sensual story about the leader of the Russian mafia and a killer who received a contract for him, but found herself falling for him'."

"Riot, solntse moye*, I love you with all my heart, but what the hell?" Nikolai couldn't fight off laughter, asking that.

"I read maybe 2-3 pages, and guys, this has the most hilarious set of all clichés about Russian guys and everyday life. I'm serious, think of all those American movies from 90-s with a scary 'Bandit Ivan' and multiply it by ten - this is how bad it is. Oh, and it has the most inaccurate depiction of armed conflicts, you've ever seen, I promise! I laughed so hard - I just had to share this with you." As Riot explains why she had chosen such a gift, Ghost begins to quietly regret that he hadn't had time to steal a bit of reading. But he immediately changes his mind when Zhar asks if smut-chapters can be considered a manual as well.

"Ok, that's enough of reading for today, love, give it to me!" Nikolai jumps up and tries to grab the book, but Zhar dodges and runs deep into the house.

Ghost gets up from the table, following the two with a glance, and, taking advantage of the fact that the room iss now empty, puts his arm around Riot's shoulders.

"I don't know what scares me more: the fact that these two are older than us and have a private army at their disposal, or that you somehow know how to turn them into giggling teenagers chasing each other in a minute..." Simon whispers in her ear.

Riot relaxes and rests her head on his shoulder. "I guess, I just know how to make menacing beings harmless."

"Oh, that you've mastered for sure," purrs Simon, squeezing her shoulders ever so lightly, before letting her go, as he hears Nik coming back.

"Ghost, I don't know what Price was teaching all of you, but your former colleague almost broke my arm back there." Nikolai runs his hand through his hair, brushing back strands that had fallen on his forehead.

"You knew what you were going for, Nik. She is your blessing now." Ghost scoffed.

"And for that I'll be thankful to every single one of you guys till my last day." Nikolai smiled and offered to escort Riot and Ghost to the guest house, so they could finally rest.

They stepped off the veranda onto a boardwalk winding through the trees. Nikolai promised to turn on the lighting of this path at night. After 15 minutes they came to a small but incredibly cozy wooden house with panoramic windows.

"This place has changed quite a bit since you were last here, Ghost." Nik unlocked the door and tossed the keys to the lieutenant. "Damn, I completely forgot, I was sharpening knives here and left the machine." He hurried to the table in the hall, but Riot quickly caught up with him and grabbed his sleeve.

"Hey, this isn't just a simple knife sharpening machine? If that's what I'm thinking, don't you dare take it with you..." Riot moved Nik aside and proceeded to sit on a couch before a shiny tool station.

"Well, I guess, have fun, guys?" Nikolai chuckled, and left Riot and Ghost alone.

***

Evening silence was broken only by the creak of crickets in the forest and the measured hissing with which the knife blade met the sharpener. Riot took her time; she was mesmerized by the beauty of her knife, that showed through with every move. Simon walked somewhere in the back of the room, immersed in exploring the library that Nik had left in the former safe house. Although it still felt safe - it now looked like the most luxurious version of a safe house possible.

"What are you reading back there," asked Riot, not looking away from the blade in her hands.

"Some poem." Ghosts voice is suddenly much closer, than she initially expected it to be.

"For me the world holds no other delight Than the ring and glitter of your dear name. No rope will be noosed, No stairwell leapt in. Nor will bullet or poison take my life. No power over me, Your glance excepting, Has the blade of any knife." He takes a pause and Riot freezes, heeling his bare hand on her back.

"Oh, I know this one...

Descansar elefante cansado querrá - Sobre la arena quemada se tumbará. Mas que no sea tu amor no tengo otro sol, Y yo no sé, con quién y dónde estás.*" She shifts to the side giving Ghost more space, as he moves to sit beside her. "You know, it's a poem about quite a brutal break-up? That woman, this guy writes about in his poem - she broke him."

Ghost hums. "So instead of books on history or weaponry, those two are stashing stories of broken people... But what strikes me the most in this situation is how many keys your hands bear. Somehow you know even this poem, buried deep in their library." He takes Riots free hand and presses lips against her palm.

"Careful, lieutenant, these hands bear freshly sharpened blades as well." Riot smiles predatory and in one motion straddles him.

"Still worth a risk." Ghost pulls her slightly up, brings closer. His fingers splayed over her lower back. Riots breath slowing as the space between them folds together. Ghosts eyes lid, touching his lips to hers, drinking in her sigh - an answer to some long-standing question and she... she breathes him in. He stills, and then only the warmth of his hands gathering her small frame dissolves the shivery anticipation with the warmth of his relief.

Idi syuda, solntse. My skuchali po tebe. - Come here, sunshine, we missed you.

¿Qué tonto del culo escribió esto? - What piece of shit wrote this?

¡Insultan a toda la nación con estas tonterías! - They insult the entire nation with this nonsense!

Nebo moye - My sky/heaven

solntse moye - my sun

Full text of quoted poem in English and in Spanish

[therealmistressmidnight]

A Sensual Christmas: Beyond the Gifts, Unwrapping the Heart of Connection

The holiday season is a time for reflection, intimacy, and deeper connections. While the world around us is focused on gift-giving and material pleasures, let’s shift our attention to something far more profound—the emotional and sensual bonds that define our relationships. In the spirit of the holidays, I want to expand on ideas I’ve touched on before, but with a fresh twist that fits the warmth and intimacy of this season.

The Sensuality of Shared Moments

In a world that’s constantly rushing, the holiday season gives us the rare opportunity to slow down. Imagine cozy nights spent in dim candlelight, the scent of evergreen in the air, and soft music playing in the background. These are the moments that remind us of the power of simply being present with someone.

In reference to my earlier writings about being craved, this season is a perfect time to channel that energy into creating shared moments of sensuality. Let the tension of the holiday bustle fade away as you focus on each other. A slow, thoughtful connection—a lingering gaze, a touch that says more than words ever could—can become the most cherished gift of all.

New Territory: The Beauty of Nostalgia in Relationships

The holidays often bring a sense of nostalgia. Whether it’s memories of past celebrations or the familiar melodies of holiday songs, nostalgia has a way of connecting us to our emotions. Use this as an opportunity to reflect on your relationship. Think about your first meeting, your first date, or even the quiet moments that strengthened your bond.

For men, this is your chance to show that you remember the little things. Maybe it’s recreating a memorable date or revisiting a place that holds significance to your partner. For women, take this time to express what those moments meant to you. Vulnerability, as I’ve written about before, is an essential part of connection. Nostalgia gives you a safe way to share that with your partner.

Letting Go of Expectation: True Giving Comes from the Heart

In reference to my previous blog about rethinking what it means to be taken care of, the holidays are an important time to let go of material expectations. We’ve all been conditioned to associate love with gifts, but true care and affection come in the form of time, attention, and thoughtfulness.

Being taken care of isn’t about what your partner can buy for you. It’s about how they show up for you—how they listen, how they hold space for your emotions, and how they celebrate your victories. This Christmas, shift your focus from the size of the gift under the tree to the size of the love your partner pours into your relationship.

For content creators like me, this lesson is especially resonant. Just as I can’t expect my audience to support me out of obligation, I can’t enter a relationship with an entitled mindset. Genuine connection is built on mutual respect, not transactional exchanges.

New Insight: The Allure of Thoughtful Tradition

One topic I haven’t touched on yet is the magic of creating your own traditions with your partner. The holidays can feel repetitive when we’re stuck in the same routines. Why not create new rituals that speak to the unique bond you share?

These traditions don’t have to be grandiose. They can be as simple as making holiday drinks together, exchanging handwritten letters, or watching a favorite movie you both enjoy. The point is to carve out something that feels uniquely yours—a tradition that strengthens your connection year after year.

The Importance of Playfulness in the Season

In the midst of all the seriousness of relationships, don’t forget to have fun. This season is about joy and laughter just as much as it’s about intimacy. Let your silly, playful sides shine. Build a gingerbread house together, have a snowball fight, or compete in a ridiculous holiday baking challenge.

This ties into the gremlin energy I’ve written about before—the uninhibited, silly part of you that emerges when you feel truly comfortable with someone. Let the holiday spirit bring out your inner child, and let that playfulness strengthen your bond.

Closing the Year with Gratitude and Growth

As the year comes to an end, Christmas also serves as a time for gratitude and reflection. Take a moment to think about how far you’ve come together. Celebrate the victories, big and small, and honor the lessons you’ve learned along the way.

For those still seeking the right connection, this is also a time for self-reflection. What are you looking for? What do you need from a partner? Use this season of hope and renewal to set intentions for the love you want to manifest in the year ahead.

The True Spirit of Christmas: Connection, Not Perfection

This Christmas, I encourage you to let go of the pressure for everything to be perfect. Relationships are messy, unpredictable, and beautifully flawed. The greatest gift you can give your partner—or yourself—is the willingness to embrace that imperfection with open arms.

May this season fill your heart with warmth, your home with laughter, and your relationships with the kind of love that grows deeper with time. Merry Christmas, and here’s to a new year filled with sensuality, connection, and growth.

[thereluctanthousewife]

The Unconventional Path to Glory

The name on everybody's lips is Stephen Nedoroscik, pommel horse specialist and now, Olympic bronze medalist for team USA.

I must admit, I've never really watched men's gymnastics. It's all sheer power and technical skill but not much artistry - there is no music to any of the floor exercises and no dance moves to break up transitions from one power move to the next. However, I watched the Olympics qualifiers as well as the finals yesterday, and I can now more fully appreciate the sheer difficulty of this sport.

Asher Hong, Frederick Richard, Paul Juda, Brody Malone and Stephen celebrated their victory unabashedly - throwing their arms up in sheer joy and embracing their teammates. It was quite a moving spectacle for a team that's always stayed in the shadows behind the women's team when it comes to fame and popularity.

Self-professed nerd, Stephen, took an unconventional approach to the Olympics. Eliciting Clark Kent comparisons (minus the cape), the athlete was the consummate teammate, cheering on the rest of the team, and bringing them water as the clock started ticking toward his event - the last of the night.

Despite criticism at the choice of including a specialist and not an all-arounder on the team, Stephen has chastened everyone's comments and turned them into believers. After recognizing his difficulty with other apparatuses earlier in his career, Stephen decided to shift his focus and master the pommel horse. He has earned exceptional recognition for this unconventional decision by winning championships both in college and beyond.

What endears Stephen to the now-new fans of male gymnastics is his seeming obvious flaw - the glasses. Apparently, he used to perform with goggles gifted to him as a prank by former teammate, Ben Cooperman. Since it has helped him perform well in several competitions, these glasses and goggles have accompanied Stephen in his routines. During his pommel horse performance for the team last night, Stephen did not wear glasses - in fact, it looked like he could barely see. But, like any good superhero, he saw well enough to get the job done. He surpassed the number of points he needed to earn and helped his team clinch the bronze, ending the US men's gymnastics team's long medal drought. (Their last medal was in 2008).

Like Stephen, many of us may not suit the traditional path to careers or success or fulfillment.

In the past, going to university straight out of high school, finding a job and sticking to that until retirement was the conventional and customary path. Nowadays, there are many other pathways to a career. And it looks different to each person.

Taking a gap year, going into community college, attending a technical/vocational college, and even working straight out of high school to gain work experience are all becoming more acceptable.

The truth is - many young adults in their early twenties still don't know what they want. They have no idea what life is all about. They choose the path that their friends have chosen, whether or not it's the right path for them. When you're in high school and pressured to choose a course in college that you hope to build a career on, your mindset is completely different. Sometimes, your passions and interests show at an early age, but sometimes, they don't.

In your early twenties, you're still lost. You still need to figure out what fulfills you, what your strengths are, and even - what options there are available. Ironically, it's at this age that you feel invincible, and that you know everything. But trust me, you don't. You have a lot more to learn.

Since childhood, the younger generation gets told what to do, how to do it and they follow. They have no minds of their own - merely compelled to accept their parents' wishes and dreams. They get tunnel vision, and sometimes, they delude themselves into thinking those dreams are theirs, too. It's really only a bonus when that's genuinely, authentically true. There are dangers to this as most of us are aware. Having your parents or an authority figure tell you what to do makes choosing easier. We don't need to go through the difficult path of deciding for ourselves. It's been decided for us, and is the path of least resistance. However, if the adults in our lives don't have our best interests at heart, it can only lead to unhappiness.

However, on the other end of the spectrum, their horizons are expanding. It's almost nonexistent for them. Career shifts, getting a degree as an adult, pursuing a career in the arts... they're all unconventional, they're all valid, and they're all acceptable. There is no longer a one-size-fits-all mentality when it comes to choosing what's right in terms of life and career.

[mrssoapmactavish]

hey jealousy

content warning: mature themes (it's cod, i'm not sure what else you'd expect at this point), mature language, brooding and emotionally sheltered ghost, really shitty british/scottish/aussie slang, ghost is kind of a... typical relationship believer, use of the word femme but in a demeaning and not sexy way. might continue this in a second part, but ghost and flukey do not get together in the end.

synopsis: ghost hears about flukey's partner. he's not as unbothered as the rest of the force about it, though. very loosely based off of the song 'boyfriend' by lou bega.

can be read as a continuation of "penny for your thoughts", or read as a standalone piece.

lost where i was going after basically falling into a work-related writer's block.

flukey is an oc.

that last mission was, well, a fluke, in lack of a better term. sure, their resident female sergeant was nearly killed on the roof of a thirty story skyscraper in a village of turkish insurgents trying to overthrow the current president, erdoğan, to start a "new, glorious era" for the country.

at least, that's in the opinion of the victim herself, who's currently limping from the on-base infirmary towards the barracks to start piling her things into a bag.

medical leave, she thinks to herself. a blessin', if there was actually a promise she'd be brought back.

price– ever the worried father figure for his rag-tag family of highly trained soldiers– had essentially demanded that she be sent home with time to heal, especially since he didn't want to have another family he had to travel to and deliver the terrible, terrible news with a folded uniform, dog tags, and a duffel bag of personal belongings.

soap and gaz had both been, quite honestly, jealous at first of the idea of a break. sure, the idea of a short leave was preferential to medical leave, especially considering the potential of no longer being needed by the 141.

ghost, however, had been the most shaken up about the whole ordeal, even if he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. he'd almost lost one of his most... 'unique' sergeants just because she decided to charge into and clear a building by herself.

hyper-indenpendence never did anyone any good, ghost reminds himself, completely missing the irony in that thought process.

she's actually been avoiding said superior like the plague; not out of fear of a lecture or being in trouble. nothing of the sort! in fact, rather, she's been trying to avoid a worried stare from the lieutenant that's nothing short of unnerving before she's simply told to 'be more careful'. plus, well, the man has a tendency to stalk around when one of his sergeants is hurt.

she can still remember soap's bitching about how ghost would, quite literally, follow him around everywhere on base after he was shot by graves in las almas. it was all "ah need space, lt" this, and "steamin jesus, am just takin' a piss!" that.

nothin' i would be wanting, she reminds herself as she continues to quietly creep her way towards the barracks. can barely handle him when he's not trying to keep me safe, can't imagine how fuckin' creepy it'd be when he's just.. watching over you, like a circling vulture.

this all grants her one big gift when she accomplishes her stealthy trek across the base; silence to pack her things. flukey's not one who tends to be excited for the prospect of leave, home is such a foreign concept when you've been on the field and travelling the world to save it so often. not to mentiion the change in routine takes nearly the entire leave to get used to.

not to mention to anyone but herself, either, but she can't quite sleep without her fellow soldiers around. even if she tends to bitch and moan about price's god awful dad snores, the sound of soap sleepwalking towards the mess hall each night with gaz in tow trying to lure him back to bed... it's familiar. brings her this faux semblance of normalcy, peace.

as she breaches the threshold of the public space into her private little sanctuary of the women's barracks, a deep sigh leaves her lips, the sound making her sound much more like a grizzled war vet than a relatively fresh recruit to a team of hyper-elite specialists.

just as she makes her way to her bunk, plopping her ass down to let out a sigh of relief and release– a metaphorical weight off her shoulders– three sets of footsteps are making their way towards the main door of the barracks, which causes her to sigh.

based off of the barely there sound from one, it's most definitely ghost as one part of this trio, then based off of the bounding thumps of nothing but unbridled confidence, soap is there too. by process of elimination, that leaves only the stupidest rookie alive, or gaz.

"flukey? y'in there, lass?" the familiar scottish drawl comes through the door, followed by a soft knock and a hushed utterance of something about privacy and assumptions from a much less accented voice. gaz it is.

"the fuck else w'd i be, dickwit? got a bum leg only good 'nough to shove up yer mum's arse," she barks back, this being enough of a response for the doorknob to twist, a soft pressure to be applied, before all three men pile inside.

soap's seeming much better than he had been when the squad had left him and gaz on base during the mission a few hours prior, gaz seeming rather sheepish about the intrusion of her space but also quite fascinated to note the differences between male and female accommodations, but ghost...

well, what else would he be, if he weren't staring?

"y'seem in a bonnie mood, i take it," the scot continues to taunt, not necessarily understanding the absolute grizzly bear that he's poking. not even poking, really; trying to shove a scope up the bears ass, dry, no prep. the other two men seem to gauge this, however, based on the fact that gaz gives him a light shove.

"figure 't this rate, i'd be better off workin' asses to elbows, pickin' up bullets from the battlefields," flukey responds with a grumble, anxiously rubbing her hand over the sore, bandaged wound on her thigh, with a bit too much pressure. "but i'll quit raggin' when my squeeze's here to take me 'ome."

now this catches the attention of each of the three men, to varying degrees; soap's got the look of a schoolboy who just found out his closest mate has a crush on the teacher, gaz seems far more like a cousin finding out his favorite uncle's lifestory, and ghost seems as observant yet fauxly unamused as always.

"you never mentioned anyone back home before," gaz prods, though he's got the bare minimum of respect to get her military-grade duffel bag handed over to her so she can lazily pack. "nothing special?"

"bet 'e's a real lady-killer if he got a catch like ye, hen," johnny immediately cuts in, cheesing like a finance major right before a bubble burst, and just like that flukey wishes she had just bitten her cheek and never acknowledged the men in the first place.

oh, how a bullet passin' through the temple would be absolute fucking heaven, she muses, instead i luck out, stuck with three kazoos.

"he's fine," she responds, voice too curt for what she had meant. "'m not tellin' ye much more than that, quit yer naggin, ya jag."

this is, quite simply, not enough to whet the appetites of the curious men. this is obvious when gaz looks at her with wide, hopeful eyes and a soft smile, as soap goes through the room and gets into all of her belongings, and ghost merely looms at the door, arms crossed yet his watchful eyes continue to stare.

with a sigh, she sets her head in her hands, refusing to look the men in the eyes. "he's nice. name's santino, met 'im stationed for training in italy."

and then, the questions fly. what's he look like, what does she mean by "nice", why wouldn't she just pay attention to the lessons.. and it's all too much for someone who simply wants to rest.

"christ, if i show you doofuses a picture, will you bugger off?" the redhead groans out, the two young, eager men nodding their heads quite easily as they approach quickly to get a glimpse of their fellow sergeant's personal life.

ghost, meanwhile, sticks close to the doorframe, leaned against it like some sort of shitty, inconveniently placed statue, blocking the door for anyone trying to enter or exit, yet he uses his slight height advantage over the other two men to glance over their shoulders, eyes narrowed to catch a glimpse of the man flukey's apparently dating.

she produces a small, folded polaroid from the pocket of her vest, taking the chance to remove the obstructive gear to take a natural, freeing breath, then handing it over to gaz to let the two men fight over who gets the first peek.

ultimately, the lieutenant silently decides it's his turn to finally engage in the conversation, stepping forward and snatching the picture from garrick's fingers, making soap huff a complaint while kyle himself is just surprised and a bit startled by his superior's silent movement.

the picture isn't much to gawk or gape at, ghost reckons. a shittily taken picture in some cheap aussie dive bar, lights low with bright grins on both faces. flukey's got her hair free– ghost had no idea she had curls, though the complaints over the low buns all the time suddenly made sense– in some shoddy, cheap dress that's mostly hidden because of the crossed-arm stature of photo, with slightly smeared lip gloss, soft eyes turned that feral red from the bright flash of the camera.

and just like that, he's realized he hasn't even glanced over at the man in the picture that was the reason he had been so impulsively eager to snatch the photograph from kyle's hand.

he's.. quite plain, if you ask simon. think of any generic italian man, and there he is. dark hair in a slightly overgrown quiff, eyes so dark they're nearly black, skin that oh so common cappuccino tone, a build so unremarkable you'd confuse him for a cardboard cut-out.

"e's too twink-ish," ghost grumbles out, handing the photo back to gaz who finally gets the chance to look at the picture, then having it immediately snatched again by johnny. "didn't take you as a beta-man type of woman."

something about this– something that, to any rational and properly socialized person, makes sense– aggravates flukey. what, exactly, remains a mystery. maybe it was how he assumed something of her.

both soap and gaz, though, seem to recognize the faux pas, and while they both seem worried for the well-being of their lieutenant after such a crass remark, johnny's muttering something to garrick that seems to have his attention instead.

"get stuffed, lieutenant," she barks, taking the picture back from the other two men and folding it back up. "never asked for your opinion on the blokes i fuck. not very like you to arse around either, so fuck off, y'old bag."

ghost, not quite understanding what would cause such a sudden outburst, furrows his brows under his mask and is prepared to shout back about insubordination and mention the absolute gall of this woman trying to shout at her superior. the nerve of this tiny little thing, the one he saved from certain doom, bleeding out in the middle of some warzone in turkey–

"ghost, mate, a word? let's give fluke some space," gaz speaks up, gently setting his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, turning his attention away from the offended woman who would, quite honestly, fight him tooth and nail for her boyfriend's honor.

the lieutenant himself isn't quite sure of the idea of letting her get away with such an offence, but as soap is also elbowing him out of the room, he reasons it's for the best, and follows the two men out, brows still furrowed and stare as hard as ever.

after the door is closed, gaz is ready to lay into the man, even if he's built like a brickwall-sized fridge, solid muscle and nothing but technical expertise. he can't help it, he's used to his two little sisters always needing him to step between them to solve their conflicts.

gaz, always the mediator, no matter what situation he's in, where he is in the world, and whoever he's around.

"the fuck's with you, sir?" he asks simon, his face scrunched into a grimace. "you can't just go and disrespect your sergeant's partner like that, it's blatant disrespect, even if you're used to being mean," he reasons. and while ghost seems even offended that kyle would even dare to open his mouth, soap is nodding along, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

"aye, lt, the fuck's in yer heid, y'eejit?" the scot asks, tone a bit more gruff than expected, but ghost is just left standing there, processing his own train of thoughts that brought him to this point.

"...never thought she'd be the dating type," ghost mumbles aloud, not really answering either man's question directly, but answering it in such a way that both of his sergeants are looking at him with this... side-eye glance at each other. sharing a wordless secret.

"and why's that?" gaz interjects before soap can try and brush it off there. ghost recognizes that look in the demolitionists' eyes, and it makes him feel a bit of gratitude, even for the thought of the attempt.

"..s'pposed she was more of a traditional type, not much of a femme-chaser." the lieutenant mutters, then shaking his head at the two of them. "i'm off. she can talk to me when she's ready." then, without another word, he leaves the two sergeants standing alone outside flukey's door.

"he needs–" "tae get laid? aye, nailed it righ' on the head, gaz."

[kittyt-hexxed]

A Little Act of Love

Abby Anderson x WLF!POC!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Cute nervous behavior, crushing on a friend, needle and thread, sewing handmade gifts, touching moments, hugs, dead parent, Christmas traditions

Summary: Christmas was your favorite time of the year, even in the post-apocalyptic world you were born into. It was family tradition with your mother to make stockings every year for your loved ones. This year was no different… except you’d be adding one more to the list.

You knew this was risky, but you had to do it. The craft store was a fair distance away from the safe zones that are routinely cleared by the WLF. If you weren’t careful, you’ll either end up fighting with an infected or a Scar, and neither option was pleasant. You were running off on your own, but your squad was used to that by now. You were one of the few people who chanced to go into places by yourself even though it wasn’t encouraged. Normally it was to get things for other people that they paid you to get. Your usual grab was comfort items or things that you couldn’t normally get within the safe zone. You didn’t mind. It gave you a chance to see more of what the world used to be and how it all went to shit.

“I’ve gotten very lucky with this.” You mutter to yourself, peeking around the corner of the building. The front is clear of any infected and you don’t see any Scars around the area. A nudge at your knee has you glancing down at Clover and patting his head. You slowly round the corner, Clover on your heels, and make your way to the front door. Just because you’re lucky now doesn’t mean that won’t change, which is why you insisted on bringing your dog. You frown at the darkened windows but don’t let that stop you. Clover zips inside as soon as you crack the door open and you wait for his cue. A few minutes later, a bark sounds and you grin to yourself. ‘All Clear.’ You sigh and step inside. The building was dark in areas there weren’t any windows, so you turn your flashlight on.

“Alright, Clover. Let’s head to the fabric section. Hopefully, this one has what I’m looking for since it’s much bigger.” You grin at the dog and he woofs at you. The two of you make your way through the large craft store, pausing to look at things that catch your eye. Once you reach the fabric section, you gasp at the sheer size of it. With an excited squeal, you run around and ramble about the different types of fabrics as you find them. Clover didn’t understand what you were talking about but he ran back and forth in excitement for you. When you found what you were looking for, you nearly screamed but chose to jump up and down instead. You grab the various bolts of fabric and bring them over to the cutting table, taking care to measure out more than you need.

Once the fabric was cut, you folded it and shoved it into your bag before wandering the rest of the store. You grabbed more spools of thread, new needles, and a bunch of other things you’d need. You annoyedly opened the packages and threw them away. You didn’t need more garbage to throw away at the base. Thanks to the military gear the WLF kept, your backpack was able to carry everything you had. It might’ve been a bit more than you came for, but it was stuff you’d need eventually.

“C’mon, boy.” You smile down at Clover and head for the doors. Your luck had held up and you were quickly making your way back to the rendezvous point. Your teammates greet you warmly, happy to see you back in one piece, especially after you show them your haul. You help them finish up clearing out the area, mark where you went on the map, and write out a description of it. Being one of the more enthusiastic adventurers came with cartography duties that you needed to fulfill. Isaac looked the other way as long as you keep providing the WLF with information, so that’s what you did.

“Woah! You went out that far?” Owen startles you as you’re writing out your description.

“Shit, Owen!” You gasp, putting a hand over your heart, “What the fuck is wrong with you! I was this close to taking you out with my pencil!” You hiss, jabbing it in his direction.

“Relax.” Owen raises his hands in surrender, “I forgot you get focused. That’s my bad… so uh, you really went that far past our border?” He examines the place you marked on your map. It was only a fifteen-minute walk away from the WLF’s border, but that could mean life or death in this area. If you had to go that far out, you went as a group so you had enough backup. Again, you were one of the crazies who liked exploring on their own.

“Yeah, the area isn’t that bad though. It’s this huge craft store surrounded by a few other little shops. I wrote down what they are, but I doubt anyone is going to go out that far.” You shrug, finishing up the last of your description, “So what brings you to annoy me?” You joke, folding up your map.

“We’re all clear to head out, so I came to get you.” Owen crosses his arms, “Not to annoy you. Thank you very much.” He says sassily.

“Sure.” You snort and roll your eyes, “Let’s go, buddy boy.” You pat his shoulder and slip past him. You hear him grumble under his breath and you grin to yourself. Clover is the first to get into the truck and the rest of you follow suit. You were excited to get back to the compound so you can work on your little project. So excited that you were bouncing your leg the whole way there. You barely said goodbye to Owen before jumping out of the truck and heading for the intake. Things went by smoothly other than Clover whining about the fact that you were leaving again. It reminded you that you needed to finish his chew toy soon.

After one last stop, you knock on the door to your mother’s room and wait for her response. Your father died of a sickness not related to the Cordyceps virus when you were a baby. As a way to remember him, your mother made a new Christmas stocking for him every year. She burned the old one on the first day of spring in a little memorial. Getting the fabric used to be her job, but she’s too old to be going off the compound anymore. That’s why you did it instead.

“Come in!” You hear your mother’s muffled voice. You open the door and smile at her when she looks up at you.

“Hey, ma.” You say softly, “I got the fabric you were asking for.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Y/n!” Your mother gets up and hugs you, “It didn’t give you too much trouble, did it?” She watches as you place your bag down and open it up.

“No, but I had to go visit that huge craft store on the north side. Don’t worry though, there weren’t any issues with it.” You grin, pulling out all of the fabric and other materials you grabbed for her. The two of you took some time to sort through it, talking about what has been happening around the place recently. You told her about Mel and Owen getting together, some of the trips you’ve taken, and a few other things. Somehow, you and your mother got on the topic of your crush and you were trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

“I’m just saying, hun. You should ask her out.” Your mother sighs, “Abby is a really nice girl and she can protect herself very well. You two are friends so I don’t think it’ll cause any issues if you express your feelings.”

“Well.” You fidget with the fabric in your hands, “I was planning on making her a Christmas stocking. I don’t know if she’s ever had one before, and it’s something I enjoy doing so I thought… it… might… be something?” You give your mother a nervous smile. She has a huge grin on her face as she claps her hands in excitement.

“Oh hun, do it! She’s going to love it so much!” She laughs happily, pushing the materials toward you.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it!” You laugh at her enthusiasm. So you and your mother get to work on making your respective stockings. You take some time to make another stencil for it, that way you don’t have to wait for your mother to finish with hers. Throughout the whole process, you couldn’t get yourself to calm down. Making something like this for Abby meant a lot to you. You don’t know if she’ll like it or think it's silly, but you wanted to do it anyway. The two of you are only friends and you don’t expect it to go anywhere, but this was your way of showing your appreciation. She’s been there for you a lot this past year and you couldn’t think of a more lasting way to thank her.

You were putting a lot of love into this stocking. You took the extra time to embroider her name into it along with a few snowflakes. ‘Is Abby more of a snowman or gingerbread man kind of person?’ You think idly, staring down at the blank space on the stocking. ‘Well, from what I know about her… she seems more like a gingerbread kind of person.’ You chew on your lip as you sketch out the little figure, choosing which color floss to use for the various pieces. Once you’re satisfied with it, you reach for the brown embroidery floss and start to work on the final figure. When you were finished with the embroidery, you and your mother took a break to grab dinner. The two of you talked about the process, gushing over each other’s designs and offering advice on how to make them even better.

By the time you finished, it was late and you needed to get to bed. So, you said goodnight to your mother, gathered your things, and went back to your apartment. You were knocked out the moment your head hit the pillow and you woke up the next morning a bundle of nerves. You knew Abby would be out on a run today, so you’d have to wait for her to come back. The rest of the day was filled with nerves, and the fact that you had nothing to do only made that worse. You ended up getting everything ready way ahead of time, so you were ready to go when you knew she’d be in her apartment.

Your heart is racing as you anxiously speed-walk through the halls. Abby’s stocking was tucked into a gift bag you had snatched during your trip. ‘All I have to do is give it to her. That’s all. Why am I so fucking nervous about this?’ You grumble to yourself, biting your lip as you get to Abby’s hall. Her apartment door is cracked open and you can hear her and Manny talking through it. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before knocking. You slowly push the door open and give the two of them a small smile. Abby immediately grins when she sees you, tossing something at Manny who struggles to catch it.

“Y/n!” Abby greets you, “I haven’t seen you in a bit! How are you?”

“I’m great. I’ve been busy going out on scouting runs, so I’ve been off-base a lot.” You respond, walking over to her, “Is right now a good time, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“I’ve got nowhere to be, so I’m okay with hanging out.” Abby shrugs.

“Well!” Manny claps his hands as he stands up, “I’ll leave you two to hang out. Have fun!” You raise an eyebrow at the cheeky grin he gives the two of you before vanishing through the door. You turn to Abby as soon as the door clicks shut intending on asking what that was about. Except, you meet her eyes instead and the words die in your throat. It must’ve been from your nerves and not the fact that her eyes are practically sparkling.

“So what’s the bag for?” Abby questions, motioning to the gift bag in your hand.

“Oh! Um… It’s for you.” You blush, holding it out to her.

“For me?” Abby’s eyebrows jump up in surprise.

“Yeah, I want to-” Abby takes the gift from you, making you pause, “to thank you for being such a good friend. If you don’t like it, that’s perfectly okay. You don’t have to keep it, I can always take it back-”

“-No!” Abby suddenly blurts out, startling you, “No. No, it’s okay. I just…” She lifts the light blue stocking out of the bag. “You got me a Christmas stocking?” Her voice comes out so quietly that you get nervous that she doesn’t like it.

“I’m so sorry, Abs. If I knew you wouldn’t have liked it, I wouldn’t have made it-” Her hand covers your mouth and she laughs, tears gathering in her eyes as she does.

“I love it, Y/n.” She says sincerely, giving you a soft smile, “It may be a little silly but I’ve always wanted one.” You blush at the look she’s giving you, and panic slightly when she removes her hand. You hope that she can’t tell you’re blushing!

“Oh.” You breathe out, the tension in your shoulders vanishing, “That’s a relief.”

“Wait. Did you say that you made this?” Abby’s eyes widened as what you said registered, “You made this stocking for me?” You nod and run a hand over the fluffy fabric.

“It’s a tradition between my mom and me. It’s kind of a way to show our love and appreciation for someone. She and my dad used to do it for each other before he passed away, and she continues doing it. So I thought… I thought I’d make you one since you’re someone I love.” You flusteredly look down at the floor, when you realize that Abby is crying. You didn’t plan on telling her that, but it just came out! ‘I can’t believe I just said that! Way to go, Y/n!’

“I do like it. I like it a lot.” Abby wipes her tears away, “My dad and I didn’t even do things like that. That makes this stocking even more special.” She gives you a shaky grin before hugging you tightly.

“It’s nice to know someone loves me enough to make me one.” Abby’s hugs were always your favorite from how secure they make you feel, and you can’t help but snuggle into her as she holds you close.

“If I knew you’ve never had one before, I would’ve taken more care with planning it.” You smile and give her a squeeze, “The inside has hot chocolate and a few other little collectibles I knew you’d like.”

“You paid that much attention to me?” Abby hesitantly lets you go, an unreadable emotion in her eyes.

“Well, yeah!” You playfully roll your eyes, “That’s what you do when you love someone.”

“You… love me?” Abby smirks, making you blink, “When did that happen?”

“Huh?” You say dumbly.

“You said you love me, twice now.” She teases you, “Do you have something to say to me?” From how fast your face heats up, you’re sure Abby knows that she said something right.

“I um- actually?” You clears your throat, nervously playing with the stocking, “I-I have a crush on you.” All thoughts in your head freeze and you stare at your friend.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to admit that. But, I’m into you, Y/n.” Abby chuckles.

“Really?!” You laugh in disbelief, “I didn’t think you did.”

“How can I not crush on you? You literally handmade me a stocking. Handmade!” She shakes it it make a point, and you giggle, “Why don’t we make some hot chocolate and you can help me figure out where to hang it?” She offers.

“I’d like that.” You smile and let Abby lead you to their little kitchen. For the rest of the night, the two of you talked about where your friendship would go from here. Your little act of love got you way more than you planned.

[nateezfics]

ATEEZ headcanon: giving them a lap dance

A/N: got inspired earlier when I watched a video on YouTube. The video is under the influence choreography by Nicole Kirkland. Do watch that if you want before or after reading this!

Seonghwa

He would be so caught off guard when you suggest giving him a lap dance

But mostly aroused

He’s more than willing to let you try it out on him, because how in the world can he turn down a lap dance

You’re not brave enough at first and it takes so long for you to build up the courage that he forgets you ever even suggested it

You decide to give him a dance for like an anniversary or something because a special occasion would be a good enough time to do it

You’re nervous as hell, all dressed up in your best lingerie

He’s made it himself comfy on the couch, still in his nice attire from your date night

He looks a sight — black slacks, shirt unbuttoned at the top, legs spread wide

He’s so hot and your resolve wavers a bit, but you turn on the music and walk over to him

He watches you so intently, every move, every little sway of your hips

He doesn’t even fight the urge to touch you

He’s bringing you into his lap right away and you just wing it and decide to grind on him to the beat of the music

Looking in his eyes and seeing the desire in them gives you a confidence boost

So does the tent in his pants, but you really want to finish the dance, so you try not to focus too much on that

You’re all over him — your hands on his chest and teasing the opening of his shirt, lips on his ear, and crotch grazing just above where he needs you most

It’s all so exhilarating and you both get so caught up that you don’t notice when the music finishes

Absolutely will flip you over and fuck you senseless right there

He’s breathing so hard, breath loud in your ear as he kisses up and down your jaw

“Fuck, baby. You’re so damn hot,” he’ll say as he dry humps you just so you can really feel how hard he is

He will return the favor tenfold and will go down on you until you’re both breathless

He just wants to show you how grateful he is for tonight’s little treat

Doesn’t want to mess up your pretty lingerie, so he’ll just pull your panties aside and fuck you while enjoying how delectable you look

Hongjoong

You don’t even tell him that you want to give him a lap dance

You want it to be spontaneous, so you’re waiting for the right moment

There’s so many moments you want to do it, because damn it, this man is fucking fine

Your perfect opportunity comes when he’s away at the studio and texts you saying he’ll be late again tonight

He’s been visiting the studio a ton lately, more so than usual, and you can literally imagine how tired and worn he looks at the moment

He’s been stressed and you think that this would be the perfect stress reliever

You get yourself ready and pick out a nice bra and panty set just before throwing on some sweats and heading to the studio

He’s hunched over his desk, face in the computer when you walk in

He turns to look at you with wide yet sleepy eyes, but smiles when he sees you

It takes a little bit of coaxing to get him to take some time away from what he’s working on

You turn him away from his desk and put some space between you before turning on some music and beginning the dance

His eyes, once bleary and tired, turn sharp and pointed as he watches you slip off your sweats to reveal what lies beneath

He’s polite and allows you to do your dance without interruption, leaving his hands at his sides even as you began to dance over his lap

Eventually it all gets too much and he buries his face in your neck as his hands grip your hips to bring them down against his hard on

The song hasn’t quite finished yet, but he’s already peeling off your panties so he can stuff his fingers into you

Has you like this for a bit, working you up like you have him, saying things like

“You’re going to give me a heart attack doing things like this without warning” and “You’re so damn good to me, baby.”

Slips his cock into you and let’s you ride him in his chair all while he gropes your ass and whispers dirty things in your ear

Yunho

He thinks you’re joking when you tell him you want to give him a lap dance

Laughs you off which only makes you want to do it even more just to spite him

You pick a random evening, one where he’s actually home at a decent time

He’s in the kitchen looking for something to eat when you walk up from behind and start feeling him up

He whirls around, mouth dropping open at the sight of you in lingerie

He doesn’t even have time to ask what’s going on because you’re pulling to him to the living room, pushing him into the couch

He just falls into the cushions, looking up at you with wide, curious eyes

Kind of like a lost puppy

He’s so confused when the music starts as he’s still trying to process everything

He curses when you start to dance provocatively, body looking so divine in the lingerie

He swallows hard when you hop on the couch and straddle his lap, grinding and moving over him, hands all over him

He’s very touchy

Hands all over your form — hips, ass, waist, chest, arms

You have to admit, you almost get side tracked when his erection grazes against your core, but you’re determined

He’s trying so hard to pull you all the way down on his lap, but you’re resisting to give in

You tease him with feather light touches and judging by the low groan from him, he’s getting a little fed up

You don’t care and turn yourself around to shake your ass against him, biting back a moan as he grips your ass with both hands

He finally reaches a breaking point and pushes you forward until you’re on the floor on your hands and knees

There’s the sound of pants being undone and soon you feel his cock prodding against your clothed core

“You know I don’t like to be teased, darling,” is all he says before pushing aside your panties and thrusting into you

Yeosang

You’re dancing around the house being silly

Yeosang is on the couch playing on his phone, but every now and then watches you as you dance around the living room to the beat of the music coming from your speaker

It’s all just shenanigans until a certain song comes on

Your whole mood changes instantly because this song is that kind of song

You begin to sway sensually to the slow beat

At first you’re just feeling yourself, not caring about your boyfriend sitting on the couch, but then

An idea hatches in your brain

You saunter over to him, bending down over him while your hands run up his thighs

He looks away from his phone and at you

He’s looking at you like ma’am wtf are you doing

You wedge yourself onto his lap, rolling your hips in time with the music

You hold his chin with your hand and keep your eyes locked with his as you mouth the words of the song

They’re some filthy lyrics

And at first Yeosang blushes a little because this just so random of you

But he relaxes and gives you all his attention, even widening his legs more so you can sit more comfortably

You look a mess

You’re in a pair of gym shorts and one of his hoodies

But you’re still turning him on immensely, cock hardening in his sweats

He interrupts your little performance by running his hands up your waist, slipping them under the sweatshirt

You moan as his hands massage your breasts and you sit on his lap fully, moaning again when you feel his erection press into you

Your movements stop as you bask in the feeling of his hands on you

He smirks

“Don’t stop, baby. Keep going. You were doing so well.”

You try to keep going, but his hands keep touching you all over and soon you’re pleading with him to fuck you

San

He’s the one who asked you to do it

And of course you agree

It’s something you have yet to do and you’re both excited to try something new in the bedroom

You get ready, dolling yourself up

Hair, make up, a sexy lingerie set, and some heels

You look stunning

He pulls you close, kissing down your neck while his hands roam over you

You have to push him away because you can’t do this yet

Not before you do your dance at least

He surprises you when he gets a camera ready

He says he wants to video the whole thing so he can save it for later ;)

You’re a tad nervous to be recorded, but once the music starts and you watch him as he reclines into his seat, your nerves fade away

You’ve got a whole floor routine put together, and you grow in confidence when you notice how he watches your every move intently

You crawl to him, rising between his thighs as your hands climb his torso to tease at the buttons on his shirt

He smirks and beckons you closer

You hop into his lap and straddle him, hips circling over his groin

He chuckles smugly when you stutter when you feel his erection

He reaches behind you and pulls your hair and you arch backwards

His free hand runs up your body from your tummy to your neck

You manage to gracefully roll off his lap and back into the floor

You go back to your earlier place and begin to undo his pants

His hand goes to your cheek, thumb stroking it sweetly as he watches you

You free him from his pants and stroke him

He groans and his head falls backwards when you take him in your mouth

“Ah, fuck, baby. You’re so damn hot.”

Mingi

You tell him you have a gift for him

When he asks you why you got him a gift, you tell him it’s because you just want to cherish him

He’s a little confused when you ask him to sit on the edge of the bed before running into your closet

He just waits for you there

So cute

He quirks an eyebrow at you when you come out of the closet in a silk robe

He asks you what this gift is exactly

He still hasn’t caught on

Until it dawns on him

He blushes as his eyes rake over your form

You walk to him, hand threading through his hair

He looks up at you, so beautiful and so amazing

You bend down and kiss him before telling him to sit back and enjoy

You discard the robe and he swallows as it falls off your frame to reveal your lingerie

He just kind of sits still as you dance

Until you throw one leg up on the bed over him, rolling your body so sensually it has his mind reeling

He grips your thigh firmly as he looks up at you, eyes now dark

A moment later he leans forward and begins to leave kisses on your thigh while his hand runs along your skin

You grip his hair and shudder at the feel of his lips

You dance on him some more before you push him backwards into the mattress

He falls onto his back, hands at your waist as you crawl on top of him

You grind down into his hard erection and you both groan out in bliss

The friction is euphoria

“You’re the best, did you know that?” he asks you after you’re impaled on his cock

You giggle and lean down to kiss him as you roll your hips

Wooyoung

Kind of like Yunho, he sort of plays it off as a joke

But with a twist

He says that you can give him a lap dance if you let him give you one

So that way you can see who’s better at being sexy

Of course he has to come through with the shenanigans

But you’re down for the competition and hey

It’s still going to be fun for you both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You’re both in your apartment

Neither of you are really dressed sexy at all

Unless you consider sweats sexy

But you give him the dance first, sitting him down on the couch and putting on a sensual song

You just freestyle it, winging your way through the motions

You make sure to keep your eyes on his as you dance

He’s unwavering until you began to strip down to your underwear

You crawl into his lap, hands tugging at his hair and pulling his head back

You kiss up and down his jaw and neck as you roll your hips to the tempo of the song

You whisper filth into his ear and smirk at the way he squirms under you

You sit up straight and continue with some slow movements over him, hand sliding down to grope his clothed hard on

He moans just as his eyes lock with yours and fuck

You feel your panties grow damp

He must’ve noticed a change in you because he glides the pad of his finger over your panties, grinning at the wetness

He dips his finger past the fabric to plunge into your hole

You moan, body freezing from the sudden pleasure

He gloats

“That’s cheating,” you say in a pout

He laughs as he begins to finger you, now adding another finger

“Don’t worry, feel free to get me back when it’s my turn to dance”

He winks at you

Jongho

You’ve been taking this dance class recently

And normally you’d show your boyfriend all the choreo you learn when you get home

But lately you’ve refrained from showing him any of the new moves

He doesn’t really think much of it

Until you tell him how complex this new choreo is

And how sensual it is

Naturally he perks up at the word sensual

You decide to keep the new dance a secret until you’ve fully mastered it

You get yourself all dolled up one night and decide that’s the best time to show him

You sit him down in a chair and he asks you if this is the “sensual” dance you had mentioned before

You say yes and tell him you wanted to master it before showing him

He sits back in the chair as he watches you turn on the music from your phone

He’s pleasantly surprised as soon as you start dancing

The choreo is hot and he can’t help but blush a little at the sight of you moving so beautifully

He gets so into it, leaning forward to watch you closely

He gasses you up and cheers you on, telling you how amazing you are

Finally you began to dance on him, and he just laughs as he grabs your hips

He adores you and you’re so beautiful it has him straining in his pants

He sings along to the song so

He raises his hips to meet yours and smirks at the noise you make

He lets you finish your routine before he lifts you in his arms and carries you to the bedroom

He lays you on the bed and as he kisses down your stomach, he praises you endlessly

“You did so good, baby. You were wonderful. My gorgeous, talented, and sexy little girl. Now let me reward you.”

He ravishes you all night, high off of you

[peppermint2d]

Gorillaz Headcanons: When they fight with their s/o

Can't forget ma boi ace 🥰 Slightly NFSW with Murdoc, but not graphic, only a mention, that bit is under the keep reading

Stuart 2D Pot

holds everything in and doesn't verbalize it at all

One day, at the slightest inconvenience, he blows up, immediately regrets becoming mad and then falls into a depressive episode

it takes quite a lot of persuading to get him to open up about what happened

he lists everything that caused him to get upset, but he can't remember most of it, but you know he must have been under a lot of stress to get him to that level

it's not even a fight really since there isn't anything to fight about, he's just too upset about everything and nothing

it is a one-sided yelling sesh, but you have learned that the anger is not directed at you, it is just what has been building up over time

when he starts yelling, he stutters too much to get anything out anyway

after some time he cools down and you're finally able to properly talk about it and calm him down

he cries while you do this

he is an ugly crier

he gets really embarrassed by his actions and hates the fact that you had to see that side of him

2D needs a s/o who can handle his emotions for him

Murdoc

would probably commit a crime in response, or something equally aggressive

if he ever slows down and sobers up he would hate his life because he sees how he has become his father

when this happens, you always find him on the balcony, smoking and trying not to cry

he will lie to you about being fine and will gaslight you when you confront his feelings

Normally when you fight, it blows up quickly into a huge fight

And after he storms off and calms down, THEN

you revenge fuck, which is his way of apologizing since he will never say sorry out loud

Murdoc needs a s/o who can meet him in anger

Russel Hobbs

stops you exactly when he gets upset

he sits you down and has the discussion, not lecture, right there

literally the epitome of a healthy relationship

works really hard to resolve the issue

When he's messed up, he'd listen to your problems, apologize, and try to do better. When it's the other way around, he expects the same from you

he never blows up at you and understands the importance of communication

he also masks his emotions, only shows enough to get his point across

every so often, he needs a period of isolation to cool off, since after Del was removed from his body and he spent that time alone, he learned how important it was for him to be able to have alone time

One time, he got really upset and he raised his hand to hit you like how he hits Murdoc or 2D, but then he IMMEDIATELY stopped

he apologized for days, hating the habit he learned from the band

he would distance himself from you until you cornered him and told him that it was fine, he didn't do anything

consent king

Russel needs someone who is willing to be open and talk

Noodle

fights with Noodle usually start with her yelling, but as soon as you start crying, she will too

she will try to one-up you by yelling louder and trying to assert dominance

you let Noodle dominate the situation just to placate her

but once she is done with the tough act, she will break down too

it deescalates so fast though

always has to think she has won the fight

everyone knows that you're actually the one in control of the relationship, but they all pretend like Noodle is to make her happy

after the fight, Noodle would apologize and everything would go back to normal

you two literally only fight for like 20 minutes at most

Noodle needs someone who is willing to let her take control

Ace Copular

hates confrontation

he will try to brush it off and avoid it

he becomes so passive-aggressive that you have to call him out on it

which he HATES

you have to block all exits since he will try to run away from his problems

when you don't hear from him in a day, you know something is up

you think he is super mad and he feels terrible because he literally didn't know how to face his issue

the whole thing always starts over something small, like you left your burnt waffle in the toaster

when he returns, which takes no longer than a day, he apologizes like crazy and brings you so many gifts

so many gifts

he would do this whole apology ritual and you would have no clue why

then he would finally open up about his week and what happened to make him get mad and leave

immediately after talking about his feelings, he would apologize since he doesn't want to be a burden

you literally do this whole routine every couple of weeks, and he still apologizes for talking it out

Ace NEEDS someone who is patient with him, doesn't doubt his loyalty, especially when he disappears, and can write cards for the both of them since he cannot spell

[after-witch]

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: Your demon lord captor presents you with an unusual and unexpected gift.

Word Count: 2200ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped,  blood/violence

Your captor seems unusually on edge--he has been since this morning, when he soundlessly bid the group to pack up camp and began trekking further into the forest much swifter than usual. You don't know why. He wouldn't tell you, even if you dared to ask. So you didn't ask, and merely helped Rin roll up your supplies in a pack, ignoring the way the growing tension in the air made your skin prickle.

You don't know much of anything lately, except the feeling of the ground under your feet as you relentlessly walk from place to place, bound to go where he goes. Being carried on the strange demon beast is no longer a terrifying prospect but a welcome reprieve from the endless marching. You’d walked more in the past months than you ever had in your entire life; you’d lived in a small village, never roaming very far out of fear of animals and bandits and other unknown dangers. 

One of those dangers, as it turned out, had been the demon lord Sesshoumaru.

You don't know why you were taken. You don't know why he refuses to let you leave, why he demanded that you join his group, his company, whatever it can be called.  

You do know that you fight in what little ways that you can. Which, you admit, aren't many. You pack up deliberately slow, hoping to earn the rare annoyed look that breaks his normally impassive visage. You used to deliberately slow down when you knew he was in a hurry, dragging your legs or feigning a limp. Though once he caught on to your trick, he'd quietly suggested that he simply carry you from then on, and you'd dropped the act.

There is one concession you will never make, no matter what he says. Your biggest weapon against him. You refuse to call him my lord, as he commanded. As Jaken routinely harps on about. As even Rin, in a light, easy way, wonders why you won't. (But there is so much the child doesn't know, and doesn't understand, about your situation.)

Today, you are almost tempted to address him--no lord, of course--to ask if something is wrong. The tension is eating at you, and if the nervous glances of Jaken are anything to go by, you're not the only one who notices it. Perhaps there's something or someone that you can't see, another demon, detectable only by scent. Perhaps he's thinking about his brother, a subject you've only learned about in snatches of conversation, though you learned enough to know that you should never bring him up.

You're tempted to ask, but you don't. Instead you try to take in the scenery around you, walking quietly and pretending for a moment that you're alone. You're walking in the middle of the group, as you usually do; Sesshoumaru ahead of you, Jaken, Rin and the beast behind. This is probably to discourage you from running--not that you've tried to run in a long time. Getting recaptured, losing the thrill of hope in your heart when you think you just might make it this time, is incredibly tiring.

Your feet are often tired, too, but you truthfully you have enjoyed seeing more of the world, more than you would have ever seen near your village. If only it was under different circumstances. You've learned over the months that happiness needs to be taken wherever it can, or else you would simply give in to despair. 

A flower species you've never seen, a stunning ray of sunshine through the leaves of the trees, a glimpse of an animal not native to your village. You catalog these things in your mind and think about them at night, counting off the times your heart has been made lighter by them.

So you look around in the hopes of adding new memories to your catalog. Only there isn't much new to add. If anything, you've seen all of these things before. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. Your gaze lingers on a particular bush dotted with bright pink flowers, just like the ones you used to pick, and you half-close your eyes, pretending that you're taking a break from former daily errands; your mother often scolded you when you returned home with a basket full of flowers, but she never hesitated to tie them into your hair or lay them on her  table as delicately as a treasure.

The daydream is made easier by the fact that these space is full of old things, old things you once knew. Even that patch of trees is remarkably similar to the ones you knew all your life, trees where you would sometimes be sent to collect bark; and that large rock, it even has the same markings, the same drawings carved in by children in some older generation. A small pond up ahead has the same pebble path, painstakingly laid by the elders for easy fishing grounds.

Oh.

Your legs feel heavy as lead and you stop, suddenly. Jaken yells something behind you about your sudden halt, but you can't make out the exact words. They don't matter, anyway.

That's why he's so on edge. That's why you've been so on edge.

The old things are not just familiar: they're exact. You're near your old village. You know these plants, these trees, the grass beneath your feet. No wonder he's tense, no wonder he's been keeping a breakneck pace since the morning. He wants to get away from this place--does he think you'll try to run back? You're not that stupid, he could kill your entire village in moments if he wanted to. And he might, if you tried to seek shelter there.

The realization weighs you down, even as Rin runs up to you and lightly takes your hand. She tugs you along, and you're gently jerked from your heavy realization until your legs continue to move, barely from their own free will. You glance forward and see that Sesshoumaru is watching, his head tilted back--to see what you would do, you think.

Rin lets go of your hand and runs on ahead, practically skipping past Sesshoumaru in a sudden sprint of childish speed, gaily ignoring Jaken's squawk of protest. Jaken knows better than to break the implied status quo--keep you in the middle--so he grumbles and maintains his slower pace.

But Rin doesn't get all that far ahead of Sesshoumaru before she, too, stops in her tracks.

"Look," she says, lifting her arm and pointing down past the trees, towards what you know will be a view of your village.

You resist the urge to sprint after her, to bridge the gap between you and catch a hill's-eye view of your village that you used to take in almost daily during your errands. You force your feet to remain steady, one-two, one-two--when Sesshoumaru suddenly pivots, and turns towards an opposite path, away from the village and away from the view.

"This way," he says.

"But. Lord Sesshoumaru--" Rin doesn't get a chance to finish when Sesshoumaru begins walking. She merely looks back towards the village with an odd expression, before running to catch up with him.

But you weren't going to be turned away so easily. You deserved a look at your village, didn't you? Just a glance at your former home? He stole your freedom, your life, he couldn't possibly begrudge you a look. 

So you keep your feet walking, quiet and nonchalant, intent on getting as far as the clearing where you know you'll be able to see the familiar buildings, the public square where festivals were held,  your own home, small and unassuming as it is. Glancing at them again might give you an image to hold onto, something you can think about before bed.

"Come on!" Jaken has pressed on ahead of you, and he's waving at you with the horrid staff he always carries. "Don't be so slow!" He swoops his staff towards Rin and Sesshoumaru, who is now standing still, staring at you. It's unusual. The entire day has been unusual. He doesn't normally bother with something as mundane as waiting--it's up to you, to Rin, to Jaken, to follow and catch up if need be. But he's waiting for you. As if he does begrudge you so much as a look.

"I just--" you start to say, inhaling a deep breath to gather your nerves.

It's then, with this deep breath, that you smell the smoke. It's then that you look up and see it, grey and thick, wafting above the trees, a detail you'd missed in your anxious haste to catch a even glimpse of your former home.

It's then that you push past Jaken, ignoring his protest, and reach the spot where Rin had stopped in her tracks.

Your village--what is left of it--is on fire. Hot, smoking buildings, crumbling and destroyed. You can see dark, red pools of blood--bodies. It was a fresh attack.

In an instant, you take off, barreling down familiar paths that you still know like the back of your hand. You hear your captor say your name, you hear the sound of twigs breaking as he moves to follow you, but you can think of nothing but your home, your family, and what might be left of them. 

You reach the village in precious little time, and it feels like walking into a nightmare. Hot air seems to simmer around you from the flames lingering inside buildings, the granary, even the market. The stench of death--blood and fire--makes you gag, and you cover your mouth with your hands. An unidentifiable body, burnt beyond humanity, is curled up against what used to be a home.

The sight propels you through the ruined streets, stepping over blood and remnants of belongings and bodies, until you reach your family’s home. Or what remains. The doorway is open, missing its door, and you cautiously peer inside the humble home that used to be all you knew.

You drop to your knees at the sight of your parents and your little brother, dead on the ground. You crawl towards them and your knees become wet with their blood. You reach out and feel the soft cheek of your mother, a cheek you'd kissed so many times as a child. It's still warm. 

You feel the weighty presence of Sesshoumaru behind you and turn around, getting shakily off your knees. He’s standing in the doorway, watching you.

You feel dizzy. You feel sick. From the smoke, from the sights, from the realization that your entire family--your entire world--has been lost.

It's then that you remember his sword. That you remember the story Rin gleefully told you around the fire, about how he'd saved her from death with it. About what it could do, if it was wielded.

You hesitantly step towards him, mind reeling. "They're dead,” you say, as if he can't tell from their lifeless, bloody bodies. "Can you... are they still..." Your voice is hoarse and hurting.

His face is impassive, but he doesn't tell you to leave. He continues to stand in the doorway, staring. You look at him, and then at his sword.

Without hesitation, you get back down on your knees and bow low, ignoring the smell of blood beneath you.

"Please," you say. "Please, my lord Sesshoumaru. Can you save them?"

You don't look up--you can't, out of fear that he'll reject you, your former pride no longer a concern with your families lifeless bodies within arm's reach--but you hear a short, quiet intake of breath in response. You keep yourself still, thoughts racing with memories and empty, fervent prayers without words.

"Go." His voice is low and commanding. "Jaken and Rin are waiting in the clearing."

Your legs seem to obey his command without question, pushing you off the floor and out of your ruined home as you make your way back through the village. You pick up your pace, wanting to wipe away the memory of seeing villagers you knew--villagers who carried you on their backs when you were a child, children you played with, the market women who gave you extra treats--dead on the ground. You don't stop running until you see Rin and Jaken up ahead, Rin looking at you with concern and Jaken--well, you already know you'll hear about your transgression for miles and miles.

When you reach the top of the hill, you spin around and stare at the far-away, ruined building that was your home.

Ages seem to pass before you suddenly see Sesshoumaru emerge from the opened doorway. He walks with no hesitation away from the village, not even glancing at the bodies or ruined buildings around him. He'll be here soon enough. But... was it too late? Did he save them? Did he leave them where they lay? You can feel your family's blood drying on your clothes.

And then, in the ruined doorway--your mother, your father, and your brother peering out cautiously after the demon who'd just saved them. You clap your hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, to avoid calling out. Mercy, mercy, mercy. It's a mercy that you know could never be given twice. They're alive.  They'll start over somewhere else and make a new life, somewhere safe, no doubt. Tears flow freely and for the first time in ages, they are not bitter, painful tears, but tears of relief. 

You stare at the small figures of your family, watch them disappear back into your home and emerge with cloth sacks strapped to their backs, until they walk down the ruined streets and are blocked from your view. As if on cue, Sesshoumaru walks into view of the clearing. Rin waves, cheerfully; Jaken splutters out ignored questions about what he was doing down there, anyway. 

You watch him with tear-filled eyes, eyes that for once are not glaring or hate-filled. He gives you half a glance--did he nod at you? or did you imagine it?--and then looks away, continuing wordlessly down the path he'd taken before you saw your village.

"We're leaving," he says. And you follow.

[emeren]

speed racer pt.2 - eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 4.3 k 

content warnings: 18+, smut, car sex, possessiveness, choking, dangerous driving idk LMAO

notes: it’s my birthday today! my gift to you all is speed racer pt. 2!!!! pt. 1 is not necessary to enjoy this oneshot, but may help with some context. here is that! 

SUMMARY: eren takes the reader for a drive where he decides to clear some things up about their relationship in his own special way. 

“it’ll be quick; i promise,” eren’s voice brought you from your daydream, head shifting against the cold window to look at him in the driver’s seat. his hair was up, brows furrowed in guilt as he waited for your response. 

you let out a dramatic sigh, reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt. “fine, but i’m not going to wait in the car.” 

“once it’s over i’ll buy you some food,” he rationed, unbuckling his seatbelt the same. you eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the inevitable sexual innuendo to leave his lips. “n’then i’ll take you back to mine and fuck you, just like you want.”

your unspoken agreement with eren had become routine at this point. after your mutually discovered attraction a couple weeks prior, the two of you had spent many a night in his bed, unashamedly basking in your sexual tension. 

the concept of sex buddies hadn’t been one you’d previously dived into, and you would’ve been lying if you’d said you didn’t want to be exclusive. it only made matters worse that eren insisted on doing everything with you at this point, including dragging you to his board meetings for his sponsorship. he was a pain in the ass, but he was a pain in the ass that treated you like his girlfriend. 

you wanted to make it official, but were too scared of embarrassing yourself, so you resorted to enjoying things the way they were. frienemies with benefits, as eren would say. 

“c’mon, don’t be so vulgar,” you responded, slipping out of the car as eren snickered to himself quietly. you hated the fact that his comments made your face heat up. you were beginning to act like a schoolgirl around him, infatuated by your little crush. 

“you know you love it,” eren smirked over the top of the car as he joined you, locking the vehicle. it was dark outside, the stadium brightly illuminated against the navy sky. “what was it you said again? ‘i want this just as much as you do’?”

you scowled, giving his arm a hard shove. he would not let you forget the things you’d said in the heat of the moment. “oh, fuck off.” you snipped. 

eren laughed again, jokingly rubbing his arm as the two of you walked up to the stadium. it was around eight, the building being nearly vacant save for the members of eren’s sponsorship board inside. 

“what’s the meeting about?” you asked as he held the door open for you, a gush of air conditioning making you shudder. 

“if i’m being honest, i don’t know,” eren replied, his eyes settling past you. as you turned your head, you saw a group of exhausted looking men in worn grey suits talking quietly amongst themselves. they stopped whispering at the sound of the door opening; a short, balding man making his way over. 

“mr. jaeger, thank you for coming on such short notice,” his voice was thick as he spoke, obviously a smoker. eren reached out to shake his hand, the man’s beady eyes settling on your face as he did so. “i’m sorry, but we won’t be allowing any unauthorized people in this meeting.” 

startled, you looked to eren, whose face did all but curse at the short man. “do you mind waiting out here?” 

“oh, yeah, no biggie,” you smiled reassuringly. he shot you a look of gratitude, mouthing the words “i’m sorry” as he walked off with the group. it was funny to watch him go; surrounded by serious men in suits while he wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of sneakers. not to mention he was about a foot taller than the rest of them. 

a sigh escaped your lips as they disappeared around the corner. the building was ominous when you were alone; large and vacant, normally filled with people excitedly bustling to watch a race. without the energy, it was downright creepy. 

you decided to stand against the wall while you waited, anxiously toying with the hem of your skirt and counting the number of fluorescent bulbs that flickered in the ceiling. 

the distant rumble of talking suddenly hit your ears, head snapping in the direction of the sound. it was getting louder, obviously two people approaching. you readied yourself to launch into an explanation as to why you were sitting alone in the stadium, after hours, only to be pleasantly surprised at who rounded the corner. 

“yo, what’re you doing here?” connie cried out in excitement, a smile splitting across his face. he was with jean, the two of them spattered with engine oil and dirt. 

you grinned back, pushing yourself off the wall to meet them halfway. “eren had a sponsorship meeting and dragged me along. what about you guys?” 

jean smirked at your response, sharing a look with connie that went unnoticed by you. “well, connie accidentally told the boss that we don’t know jack-shit about car mechanics, so now we have to go to a stupid workshop five days a week.” 

“hey, it’s not my fault he was eavesdropping on our conversation with armin,” connie retorted, coming to stand beside you. you smiled at your friends, happy they were there. “we’ll wait with you, if you want?” he proposed. 

“that’d be great,” you sighed. “eren said they’re usually only like thirty minutes long, so we won’t be here all night.” 

“about that,” jean started, uncomfortably bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. you frowned, wondering where he was going with this. “are you and him, like, y’know...” 

you paused for a moment, deciding to play dumb. “huh?” 

“are you and jaeger-meister dating?” connie interjected, wiggling his brows. despite knowing that this is where the conversation was going, you couldn’t help the wave of embarrassment that washed over you. you shifted uncomfortably in place, looking between your friends. 

“i don’t know,” you answered honestly. “i can’t tell if he likes me or not. god, this is so high school.” you muttered. 

jean gave you an apologetic smile, opening his mouth to speak before connie decided to give his own advice. “huh? why wouldn’t he like you? you’re a hot piece of ass!” 

a laugh escaped your mouth at his idiocy, jean dishing him a scowl. “don’t listen to him. personally, i can’t see why you’d want to date that little shit.” 

“yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing,” you replied demurely. 

“well, if you like him that much, i say go for it,” connie shrugged. you eyed him warily, waiting for the ‘but’. the three of you stood in silence for a moment longer, considering what to say next. 

“do you want my help?” jean asked apprehensively. he looked put-off by something, but you couldn’t tell exactly what. connie gave him an incredulous look. 

“sure, i guess,” you responded. in some ways, you felt bad for jean. your friendship had been built off of a mutual distaste of eren, and now that you two were sleeping together, the playful mockery with jean had died down. he motioned his head back towards the wall, indicating that you and connie should follow. 

“alright, here’s my plan,” he whispered dramatically. connie nodded his head, the two of you leaning in as if it were some grand escapade. “eren is a dumbass. in fact, i think he still has the brain of an ape.” 

you rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh as connie nodded once again in agreement. “get to the point, he’ll be out here any minute now.” 

“alright, alright!” jean held his hands up defensively. “i genuinely don’t think he’s capable of intelligent thought. that being said, i believe the right way to gage his feelings are to activate his instincts.” 

“dude, how long have you been planning this?” connie snorted. you couldn’t help but smile at just how funny the two of them were. 

 “never mind that,” jean shooed him back in annoyance. you raised your brow impatiently. “we need to make him jealous. if my assumptions are correct, it’ll piss him off and then you can tell him that he’s the only one you’re interested in.” 

you pulled back from the huddle, unsure about his grand plan. “i dunno, jean. this sounds kinda stupid, if i’m being honest.” 

“oh, c’mon,” jean begged, a devious smile on his features. “this’ll be our last chance to taunt him together.” 

connie grinned as you contemplated it. “i think this is a great plan!” 

you groaned, the small side of you that liked to make fun of eren starting to grow once again. “okay, fine. how’re we gonna do this?” 

“leave that to me,” jean smirked. as if on cue, you could hear the bustle of the sponsorship men coming down the hallway. your tall friend was quick to step behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and placing his chin on your shoulder, effectively pulling you to his chest. “follow my lead.” he whispered into your ear. 

you couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the action. jean was respectfully keeping a distance between your ass and his groin, but he was close enough that it wasn’t very obvious. 

connie started to babble about a new korean barbecue restaurant that he and sasha were planning on going to, you rocking in jean’s arms to make the sight believable. 

your heartbeat was drumming in your chest as eren rounded the corner, his professional smile plastered on his angular face. he was in the middle of talking with the balding man from earlier, eyes fixed on him. jean gave your waist a squeeze in reassurance. 

eren’s gaze peeled from the short man, teal eyes landing on you and jean all cozy. it was as if a flip was switched; the professional smile he’d been wearing slid off his features with ease, face hardening. 

you held his angry stare for a moment before turning to connie, laughing at whatever had been said, the feeling of jean’s breath against the shell of your ear as he let out a light chuckle. “it’s working.” 

you heaved out a deep breath, focusing on connie instead of eren. you could feel his eyes practically burning holes in your head, shifting your neck so that yours fell back on jean’s opposite shoulder. 

“alright, that should be it for tonight,” you heard one of the men say, glancing back over to them. you didn’t look for long though, quickly noticing that eren’s stare was intently focused on you and jean. 

the men shuffled past the three of you, leaving the building. “hey, jaeger. we ran into y/n as we were leaving.” jean hummed against your shoulder. 

you looked back at eren, who was standing in front of you with his eyebrows furrowed. jean must’ve been right, judging by eren’s face. 

“we’re leaving.” eren deadpanned, taking a step forward. he wasn’t looking at jean, rather staring directly at you. you could feel a slight amount of guilt creep up your spine, jean sighing exceptionally loud as he pulled away from you.

“do you guys wanna come to the korean barbecue place with us? it’s gonna be real good,” connie asked innocently. eren didn’t look away from you, his jaw clenching. 

“no. we’ve got other plans.” he said seriously, reaching forward to grab your hand and tug you the opposite way from the doors. 

“woah, eren, you’re going the wrong way,” you huffed in confusion, trying not to trip as he yanked you away from your friends. he continued forward, not looking back. 

“uh, bye i guess?” jean yelled. you looked over your shoulder to see the two of them giving you a thumbs up. you dished them an appreciative smile as you rounded the corner. 

“eren, where are we going?” 

eren stayed silent for a moment, not letting go of your wrist. “for a drive.” 

“huh? but your car is in the lot out front?” you mumbled, absolutely dumbfounded. the tall man didn’t respond, large hand still wrapped around your wrist. 

it wasn’t until you came to a familiar large door, eren giving it an unnecessarily hard shove. the lights flicked on, revealing ten shiny race cars, all perfectly lined up. 

eren let go of your wrist, making his way over to his own car. it was a sleek black with white checker decals, much like the rest of the vehicles in the garage. you’d seen it before, as it was quite literally one of eren’s most prized possessions. 

you stood in the doorway, eyeing him warily. “your race car? you never take it out on regular roads.”

eren’s jaw clenched as he unlocked the car, pieces of hair falling in his face. he looked upset, muscular arm propped on the roof and brows laced with annoyance. 

he walked around to the other side, opening the passenger door for you. it was strange, seeing him dressed in his regular clothes next to his race car. something about the nonchalance was attractive, teal eyes looking at you expectantly. “c’mon. be a good girl and get in the car.” 

at his choice of words you swallowed, inwardly cursing jean for his plan. you knew you were in for it, judging by the fact that eren only referred to you as good girl when he had his most sinful plans in mind. maybe you should’ve just talked to eren about making things official rather than making him jealous, you thought. too late now. 

“okay,” you sighed, resolutely deciding to accept whatever fate it was that jean had painted for you. you crossed your arms, slowly approaching eren. you stopped right as you were about to slip into the car, looking up at him through your lashes. he stared down at you, eyes serious. 

you slipped into the dark interior of the car without further discussion, the cold leather making you shiver as eren shut the door. you observed him through the windshield as he pressed a button to open the garage before getting in the car himself. 

the smell of his cologne filled the car, your teeth nervously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip as he turned the vehicle on. you’d never been inside the car before, only seeing it on the track and in the garage when you came to pester your friends before a race. 

it rode impossibly smooth, eren bringing his hand to the back of your seat as he backed out of the garage. you tried not to stare at the way his arm flexed, jawline enhanced as he strained his neck, but you couldn’t help yourself. he was just so hot. 

eren must’ve felt your eyes, glancing down at you momentarily with an expressionless look. you quickly shifted in your seat to stare out the window, heat burning in your cheeks. god, why was this suddenly so awkward?

it was silent as he drove out of the arena, the dark city glittering against the sky. it was beautiful at night, skyscrapers lit up all pretty. you quickly found yourself distracted by the view, leaning your head against the cool glass. you were so consumed that you didn’t notice eren merging onto the freeway. 

you were brought out of your trance at the feeling of his large hand resting on your upper thigh, grip tight and possessive. you glanced to him again, lifting your head from the window. 

he was staring straight forward, foot slowly increasing the gas. you felt your chest tighten, seeing how he was riding the tail of a minivan in front of you. 

“eren,” you warned, insinuating that he slow down. his index finger tapped tauntingly on your bare thigh, slowly rising up the skin. the fabric of your skirt rode up, eren weaving past the minivan with one hand on the wheel. 

“i have a question for you,” he said lowly, eyes not leaving the road. you gulped, a strange mix of arousal and anxiety pitting itself in your stomach as his hand reached the apex of your thigh. the side of his pinky brushed against your pelvis. “hm, no underwear?” 

you felt a pang of embarrassment. in your defense, you’d thought tonight was just going to be spent hooking up with the man, not going to the arena. “i, uh-”

“so, jean had his dick pressed against your ass and you didn’t have underwear on?” his voice was deep, jealously dripping from every word. your breath hitched as his middle and ring finger slid against your clit with ease, already soaking wet. 

eren’s shoe pressed down on the gas again, the car zipping in and out between other vehicles on the freeway. his fingers rubbed against your clit slowly, your legs subconsciously spreading to give him better access. it felt so good, the way he was circling the nerves with desirable pressure. 

“mmm, eren slow down, you’re going to crash the car,” you mumbled, watching as he sped up, whipping past the other vehicles. he was easily approaching 100 mph, your anxiety beginning to outweigh the pleasure. as if sensing this, eren sped up his fingers as well, a whimper leaving your mouth. 

“i know it’s bad for me to be so jealous,” eren said flatly, his middle finger deviating from the ring finger to slowly insert itself into your tight cunt. he pumped it slowly, still not looking at you. he was pushing 110 at this point, doing so with ease. “but something about jean touching you. being so close to you like that.” 

his ring finger joined the middle, the two sliding in and out of you, curling slightly. it was hard to stay focused on his reckless driving when he was fucking you with his fingers like that, your mind feeling fuzzy as a passing car laid on its horn. 

“eren,” you breathed out in worry, his fingers hitting your sweet spot in order to make you shut up. “you gotta slo-” 

an involuntary whimper left your lips as he curled his fingers particularly deep, the tingling sensation at your core beginning to build. you looked over to him, and boy what a mistake that was. 

his one arm was flexed, hand gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white. he was entirely focused on the road, eyebrows furrowed intently as his other hand purposefully increased its speed. he was so so hot.

you stifled another moan as your eyes looked forward again, the sight of eren nearly clipping a subaru outback making you sit forward.

“you’re going to crash!” you gasped. 

“i’ll slow down if you answer my question,” eren growled, his thumb coming to rub your clit rapidly as his fingers continued to pump in and out of your cunt. you hissed at the newfound pleasure, your head coming back to rest against the seat. 

“yes, yes, okay,” you agreed, screwing your eyes shut to avoid looking at how fast he was driving. 

eren took a deep breath, giving you a sideways glance. he’d never done this before, but he’d also never felt this way about someone. the way you clenched so good around his fingers making his chest tighten. he made you feel this good, not jean. the thought brought a smirk to his face as you let out a strangled moan. 

“i’ll stop speeding if you agree to be my girlfriend,” eren’s words shocked you right out of your pleasure coma, eyes widening as you jolted upright in your seat. did he really just say that? did jean’s plan actually work?

his hand jerked the steering wheel to the side, your mind too preoccupied with his statement to even notice his fingers had stilled inside of you, anxious for your answer. he wasn’t looking at you, eyes still locked on the road. 

you held your breath as you noticed how fast your heart was beating. “i thought you’d never ask.” you responded, cheeks burning. 

eren’s lips curled upwards, pulling his fingers from inside of you. your eyes followed his long digits as he popped the middle two into his mouth, sucking your bitter sheen from his knuckles. he was your boyfriend. he wanted you to be his girlfriend. “good girl.” he mumbled. 

you glanced back at the freeway, surprised as eren jerked the steering wheel, making an abrupt exit. it appeared to deviate into the woods, your eyes flitting nervously to the man beside you. “um, where are you taking me?” 

“i’m just fulfilling my promise,” he answered, bringing his hand back to grip your thigh. his fingers were wet with his saliva, the sight bringing a strong throb to your core. oh yeah, i never finished. “’member? i said once we were done with my meeting i was going to fuck you.” 

you suppressed an excited smile at his vulgar words, pressing your thighs together for some form of relief. you were painfully aroused, the burning sensation almost too much to bear. 

“plus, it seems like you never learn,” eren’s words were suddenly serious as he pulled the car up a gravel road. there was a sharp drop off to the side, the city skyline sparkling in the distance. you cocked a brow at him. “you’re my girlfriend now, but i’m still pissed about that stunt you pulled with jean. gonna have to punish you, of course.” 

you swallowed as he shut the car off, the city sitting innocently in view. the spot between your legs was aching, desperate for some form of release. you couldn’t help the swell in your chest at the fact that eren was your boyfriend now, anxiously awaiting whatever he had in mind. 

eren leaned over you, maintaining a deep stare as he shifted your seat into a flat position. his fingers lightly danced across your skin as he unbuckled your belt, face hovering above the hem of your skirt. he glanced back up to you, teal eyes glinting in the darkness. 

“can’t wait to fuck my new girlfriend,” eren growled, wasting no time in climbing on top of you. he shifted your legs so that your knees were bent by your head, wet cunt on full display in front of him. he stared down at you, a hand on each knee. “shit, you’re so hot like this.” 

he slowly brought a finger to your center, the feeling of his cold digit gliding against you bringing slight relief to the deep ache. his eyes were focused below your waist, lazily flitting upwards as he brought his finger to your lips. “taste.” 

you happily accepted, wrapping your lips around his finger. your tongue swirled around his knuckle, the saccharin taste filling your mouth. he pulled it from your lips, a devilish grin on his features. 

“i can’t wait any longer,” he breathed, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. the kiss was deep and heated, however it felt different from all the others you’d shared in the past. it was meaningful and tender, slow and deliberate. his tongue swiped your lip, slipping into your mouth with a sigh. 

his hands undid his pants as you kissed, the sound of his belt being undone filling the small space. you could feel him positioning the tip of his cock at your entrance, sliding it against your slick. 

eren pulled back to look at you, breaths mingled for a moment before he pushed past your entrance, burying himself deep within you. the stretch was slightly uncomfortable and you were convinced you’d never get accustomed to the sheer size of his dick.

eren didn’t wait for you to adjust, flexing his hips back to give you another purposeful thrust. a whimper slipped past your lips at the feeling, his hand leaving your leg and lightly wrapping around your neck. 

“fuck,” he hissed, speeding up his pace. your walls clenched around him, climax fast approaching with every deep thrust of his cock within your cunt. “feels so good fucking you when you’re all mine.” 

his hand tightened around your throat, the combined pressure at both ends of your body only adding to the pleasure as he rammed into you. he grunted as his other hand pressed your legs forward, getting a better angle so that he could fill you to the hilt. 

a strangled cry ripped from your throat as he hit particularly deep, bringing his face down to roughly kiss your lips. he was breathing heavily, the car shaking as he bucked his hips into yours.

eren craned his neck down to look at where his length disappeared inside of you, a small smile toying at his features. the sight caused his cock to twitch, relishing in just how nicely he filled you up. you were his, and he was yours. 

just the thought of you being his girlfriend was enough; a loud groan leaving his chest as he pressed his hips against yours. you could feel him release himself inside of you, the thick sensation bringing on a much anticipated orgasm. your limbs grew cold, the pleasure reaching the tips of your fingers. 

eren placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, gazing down at you. “my girlfriend is so fucking hot.” he grinned. 

you rolled your eyes at his cheesy comment, swatting his chest playfully. he carefully removed himself from you, trying not to drip onto the car seat. 

“here, pretty. you’ll have to keep your legs up,” he instructed as he pulled his pants back up. you frowned, the thought of holding this position the whole way back somewhat daunting. 

“huh? but how am i supposed to keep this stuff from coming out?” you whined, still trying to regain your composure. eren’s face was flushed as he smirked at you. 

“that’ll be your punishment, m’kay?” he said smugly. you scoffed, holding your knees in each hand. 

“but that’ll be impossible!” 

“don’t worry,” he leaned forward to kiss your lips once again. “i’ll drive slow.” 

<3 <3 <3

[hello-there]

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[birdsandspades]

Bedtime Routine (A Bakugou Katsuki Oneshot)

-Bakugou drags home his drunk girlfriend after his friend Kirishima's wedding, how much babying will she need as the night goes by? Only the sake will tell!

Word Count - 4,516

- I honestly didn't know how to feel about this oneshot, but I wanted to write one for Bakugou and I felt like some of the parts were cute. So with that, enjoy some soft domestic Bakugou.

----

The keys once again slipped out of your hand, clinking together as they hit the ground. Leaning over, you grabbed the hand next to you as you reached down to pick them up again. 

“Just give me those, i’m tired of watching you miss the keyhole.” Bakugou pulled the pile of keys from your hand, annoyance evident in his eyes. He fiddled with the lock for a moment before shoving the door open for you to walk inside.

“Katsuki, I'm drunk.” You giggled, the dissipating warmth still present in the apples of your cheeks. You have him a spacy smile before turning your attention back to the door. It was a small gap between the level of your front porch and the door frame, nothing menacing to the normal person. But the longer you looked at the door, the higher up it seemed. The ground spinning at a dizzying speed as you gathered the mental aptitude to move your already wobbly feet over it. 

A soft hand on your back gave you the last boost of courage you needed to attempt the monumental feet of getting your damned foot inside of your apartment. You lifted your foot, placing it over the door frame. Mission accomplished, now you just needed to get the last foot over. You lifted it, trying to follow the same path you had taken with your other appendage. Your heel barely nicked the doors threshold, the movement stopping as you jolted forward.  You attempted to grab the wall next to you, hand grasping at air as the floor came rushing towards you. 

Bakugou grabbed the back of your arm, pulling you upright and back onto your wobbly legs.  “I know that dumbass, now move so I can come inside.” He pushed you gently once you had your footing again, squeezing past you before closing the door. He reached a hand around you, flipping the switch next to the door. 

You squinted, scrunching your nose at the bright lights. A hand tugged at the end of your coat sleeve, pulling each one off of you. You watched as Bakugou took it to the nearby hallways closet with his own, hanging them up neatly. 

He gave you a confused glance, the corner of his mouth turning up in an awkward smile as you continued to stare at him. “You good space cadet? Did all that sake finally get to you?” 

Your face soured as the ghost of alcohol's past hit your tongue. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the bad taste mentally and physically. 

----

Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh at his light weight of a girlfriend, absolutely wasted after four shots and two beers. He had warned you not to drink with him and his friend at the ceremony, he knew this was bound to happen. He had suggested staying with the girls instead, “You won’t be able to keep up princess, go giggle and gossip with the other girls.” He had ment it in a loving way, only wanting you to enjoy your night. But he knew you had taken it a bit too serious when you shoved your way in between Denki and Sero at the table, hands folded over your chest like a disobedient child. 

By the time the reception had ended and everyone was ready to head home you were way past your limit. Bakugou had found you sitting in the middle of the dance floor with an equally drunk Mirio trying to play a card game neither of you knew the rules too.

Bakugou had to resort to carrying you out of the reception hall over his shoulder, you frantically waving goodbye to his drunken friends as he threw you in the rideshare home. But your drunken shenanigans hadn’t ended there. 

He loved how social you were, making friends just came easy to you. He would bring you to his hero event, relying on your bright and bubbly nature to mask his social lackings, happy that he could just leave all the questions to his likeable side kick and lover. But it was that same loveable attitude that was killing him in the car. 

You had started the conversation off light with the driver, reminiscing on the beautiful wedding you had just attended with your very handsome boyfriend (you made sure to tell her that as well). But once she asked about music for the car trip home Bakugou knew he was in for a long ride. If he had to pick one thing to change about you (and he would have to be held at gunpoint to say this) it would be your music taste. It was his (un)lucky night that the drive and you just happened to share the same love for 2000’s club hits, and that's just what he got to listen to the entire ride home. 

----

Now you were home, safe and sound. With the perfect night coming to a close he recalled the beautiful wedding he had attended for his best friend, and the wonderful night he had shared with the one he loved most. Bakugou smiled to himself as he slipped off his shoes, he hoped he could spend the rest of his life like this with you. You made him feel loved every second he was with you. Whether it be random flowers on his desk after a long patrol, your soft fingers tangled with his under the table at meetings, or that stupidly cute grin on your face as you stared at him for no apparent reason, he was absolutely smitten with you. 

You reached a hand out, placing it on the wall next to you. Holding on for what felt like dear life you leaned down, slipping off your heels before attempting to neatly place them next to the door. A familiar hand wrapped around your middle, holding you steady as you stood back up. Your eyes trailed up the man in front of you, taking in all the ways his black dress shirt strained against his muscles. You ran a hand down the length of his arm, feeling the way it flexed against your fingers as he pulled you closer. 

Your eyes finally met his, the auburn hues starting to match the color creeping across your cheeks. You tangled your fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling yourself to your toes. He wrapped another arm around your middle, giving you the last boost you needed to finally meet his lips. You melted into the warmth he emitted as your lips lazily danced along his own. 

Smirking, he pulled away from your drunken grip. “Go get undressed, i’ll be there in a minute.” He turned you towards the bedroom before giving your ass a light pat. He shook his head, chuckling as he watched you walk down the hallway, skipping slightly as you rounded the corner to your shared bedroom.

Walking into the kitchen he peaked down the hallway one more time, smiling to himself once he saw the bedroom light turn on. He reached up, opening the cabinet and pulling out a glass. Turning it over in his hand, he ran his thumb over the upraised lettering branded on the glass. 

----

You had brought it back for him when you returned from your year in America. It was one of the worst years of his life, the distance between you and him only reassuring him that he would never let you be that far away ever again. When he had seen you running down the stairs at the airport the day you came home, this glass in hand he knew he was keeping your forever. “You're gone for a year and you bring me back a shitty pint glass from MY american fanclub?” He couldn’t believe you had wasted money on his fan merchandise, let alone bought it for him. 

“I saw it in one of the store windows when I was on patrol and I thought it was cute. They made you look so much nicer than you really are, look you're smiling!” You beamed, pointing out the happy look on his artificial face.

He chased you out of the airport, ready to ship you back to America with your shit present. You could only laugh, paying no attention to the string of curses that echoed behind you as you ran for the car. You instead focused on the slight blush your words brought to the apples of his cheeks, happy to know he liked the gift. 

----

Turning on the sink he filled up the glass before making his way down the hallway towards the bedroom. “You better be on your side of the bed. It’s not my fault you bought a shitty pillow, and i’m not fucking sharing again.” He opened the door to your body lazily laid out across the entirety of the bed, still fully dressed and already snoring. “Hey, no! Get the fuck up, your not falling asleep with all your fucking makeup on!” He kicked the side of the bed, trying to wake you up. 

You peeled open your eyes, sitting up on to look at your very aggravated boyfriend standing above you. “Katsuki i’m so tired…” You whined, attempting to lay back down.

A firm hand grabbed your forearm, forcing you to stay upright. “Drink this, don’t fall back asleep.” Bakugou forcefully handed you the glass of water, glaring down at you before walking to the connected bathroom. 

You listened to him rummage around for a moment, drawers opening and closing while you drank your water. Your eyes drifted to the large picture that hung on the wall above your bed. It was of you and him on your last day of school at UA, smiling at one another, diplomas in hand. His mother had taken it after the graduation ceremony before you went to your rooms to pack up your belongings. What no one knew was right after that picture was when he had asked you to move in with him. He had already picked out an apartment located in between both of your agencies months before, keys in hand when you walked into the dorm building. 

“Come here.” Bakugou yelled from the bathroom, pulling you out of your reminiscing. 

The shower started as you stood up, the warm steam already seeping out from underneath the door. You pushed open the bathroom door, tired eyes roaming over the man waiting for you. You walked over to him, a soft smile adorning your face as you looked over his own. “Hi Kacchan.”

“Hi princess.” He droned, reached for the empty glass in your hands. Setting it down he swapped it for the makeup wipes on the bathroom counter. He peeled open the package, pulling one out before throwing the rest back on the counter top. 

He placed his hands on your waist, lifting you up to sit on the counter in front of him. “You yelled at me last time I let you fall asleep with all this shit on. I don’t want to deal with it tomorrow.” Reaching up, he drew your chin between his finger and thumb. He held you still as he started to wipe off the nights makeup, tilting your head back and forth gently as he ran the cold cloth over your skin. 

Your eyes scanned over the hardened lines of his face, taking in the small details as he concentrated on getting the glittery eyeshadow off your eyelids. You reached your hand up, tracing over his bottom lip. “Don’t you think the wedding was beautiful Katsuki, Kiri looked so happy today.” You hummed, looking back on the night you had just shared with him. 

Bakugou remained silent as he pulled out another wipe, his focus firm on getting every bit of makeup off your face. 

“I hope if we ever get married our wedding is that beautiful. I would say yes if you asked me, because I love you.” You flashed your boyfriend a cheesy smile, your hand resting on his waist as you scooted yourself closer to him. 

“I love you too, now shut up.” He readjusted your head in his hand as he started on your red adorned lips. The long lasting lipstick doing just as it promised as he struggled to wipe it off. 

“I think Tsu-chan would be my maid of honor because she’s my…” You wrinkle your brow, pulling away from the red stained makeup wipe. “Katsuki, you got it in my mouth.” You shook your head, the taste still lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“Then stop talking.” He pulled you closer again, holding your head still as he attempted to wipe off the residual color.

You stuck your tongue out at the frustrated man, taunting him. He responded with another wipe across your tastebuds, laughing as you recoiled from the taste.

Once he was satisfied with your now cleaner face he gathered the dirty wipes, throwing them in the bathroom trash can. He reached a hand down, tugging at the hem of your dress. 

You lifted your arms above your head, letting him pull the dress off of you. It hit the floor, a soft plop sounding as Bakugou pulled you down from the counter. Turning you around to face the mirror, he ran a hand over the gathered condensation. You watched through the foggy glass as his hands found the mess of curls pinned together on the top of your head. 

He took his time finding all the bobby pins hidden inside your hair, fingers grazing your scalp as he slowly uncovered all their hiding places. Each one he would find was placed on the countertop next to you, the pile slowly growing as each curl fell out of it's restrictions. Once he had found them all, he pulled the unraveled ponytail gingerly, freeing your messy hair. 

You handed him the brush, causing him to scoff. You could have brushed your hair yourself, but you were enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend's loving touch as he ran his fingers through your hair checking for any tangles. You watched him through the mirror, your loving gaze falling on his attentive hands as they smoothed over your hair as he brushed it out. The curls on your head increasing in volume as they separated. You hummed, enjoying the feeling of his warm touch.

Once he was done he set the brush down, pushing it back into it's respective place. “Now take a shower.” Bakugou looped a finger around the side of your panites, pulling them down around your ankles. His other hand pinched your bra clasp, undoing it for your convenience. Turning around, he walked back into the bedroom.

You kicked your underwear to the side, the pile of clothing growing in the corner of the room. Stepping over the side of the tub you let the water run over your back as you pulled the curtain closed.  After a moment you leaned back on the side of the shower, sliding down the wet wall until you were seated under the stream of running water. The warmth sank into your skin, relaxing you as you let the water run over your head.

Bakugou returned after a few minutes comfortably dressed in his pajamas. He pulled open the shower curtain slightly, chuckling as you turned around, still seated on the tub floor. “Are you not going to wash yourself, you’ve been dancing all night.” He rolled his eyes, as you shook your head. “Come here.” He sat down near the side of the bathtub, motioning for you to scoot over. 

He pressed down the pump of the shampoo, gathering a bit in his hand as you moved to sit next to him. He smoothed it down the back of your head, fingers digging into your wet hair as he lathered it. He tilted his head, looking around your shoulder as you pushed into his fingers. Your eyes closed in enjoyment as he scrubbed the hair spray from your wet locks. 

Standing up, he pulled the shower head off the stand, giving you a playful spray before sitting back down. He titled your head back, careful not to get any runoff in your eyes as he rinsed the shampoo from your hair. The bubbles building up around the drain as he pumped some conditioner into his free hand. He handed you the shower head, caulking his eyebrow when he saw the amusement dancing in your eyes. “You better not spray me F/N.”

You could see the line in front of you, and if it had been any other day you would have crossed it. But you were tired and so was Bakugou, now wasn’t the time to start another bathroom war. But you would put it on your to do list. You leaned over the side of the tub, pressing a wet kiss against his cheek. You giggled when he recoiled, wiping the wet mark dramatically before picking up the shower head to spray you again. 

He turned you around, shaking his head as you continued to giggle. He smoothed the conditioner into the ends of your hair, massaging it in. He took his time washing it out of your hair, taking in your peaceful presence. He rarely got moments like this with you, your hero work had kept the both of you busy. He would be lying if he said he didn’t wish for a normal domestic life with you from time to time. But he loved hero work, and he knew you would never ask for anything different. 

He reached for the blue bottle of face wash, popping the cap open and squeezing a small amount into the palm of his hand. He rubbed them together, forming a layer of bubbles as you turned around to face him. The same spacey smile lingering on your lips. He transferred the foam onto your wet cheeks, the pads of his fingers worked it into a lather on your face as he washed away the remaining makeup.

You once again fixed your eyes on the man before you, your heart swelling as he carefully rinsed the residual bubbled off your skin. Your mind repeating over and over the adorations you had for the love of your life. “Thank you Katsuki.” You whispered, tilting your head to meet his crimson gaze.  

“Come on princess.” He stood up, reaching over to shut off the shower. His fingers laced with yours as he helped you to stand, his other hand reaching for the towel that hung neatly on the rack. Draping it over your head, a soft smile flashed across his face before the towel dropped over your eyes. His hands gingerly held the sides of your head before roughly shaking it back and forth in an attempt to dry your dripping hair. 

Your hand shot up, pushing him off of you. You pulled the towel off your head, blinking a few times. You were sure the sudden whiplash had sobered you up a bit. “Jesus Kacchan, you’ll rip off my head doing it like that.” You complained, glaring at your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to do it yourself?” He threatened, meeting your glare.

You stuck out your bottom lip, shaking your head slightly. Your boyfriend hardly pampered you and you weren't ready to give up the sweet treatment just yet. You handed him back the towel, blushing as a deep chuckled bubbled up from his chest.

He wiped at the ends of your hair, collecting the dripping water. His hand reached around you grabbing at the loose end of the towel before tightly wrapping it around your frame. You took his open hand as he helped you step over the tub, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand as he guided you out of the bathroom. 

He sat you down on your side of the bed as he let go of your hand. “Stay put.” Bakugou pulled the towel tighter around you as you settled into the bed in an attempt to keep you warm. He made his way towards your shared closet, turning on the light. His fingers grazed over your clothing feeling the different textures of the fabric that peaked out. He turned to his side, flipping to his night time shirts as he searched for your favorite UA shirt.

----

The shirt had a long history between you two, it had been with his as long as you had. It all started with your first day at UA together, you were standing next to him as they handed out the shirts for gym. You had been a last minute addition to the class transfering from a different school earlier in the year. They had to guess on your size when they ordered the shirts, and sadly they had guessed wrong. The shirt you got was far too small for you, or really anyone in the class. You had looked so disheartened telling your teacher it was ok, but you had really looked forward to finally having a piece of the school you dreamed of attending. 

It wasn’t until the year after that you and Bakugou had gotten together. Late after class you and him were walking back from the gym after a sparring session. You had sprung the question on him, “Bakugou, do you want to go out?” He tried to play it off like he didn’t care, but he could have thrown up from the nerves. When he got back to his dorm he unzipped his practice jacket and that was the shirt he was wearing. 

It was also the shirt he was wearing when he kissed you for the first time, the first time you spent the night, and the day he told you he loved you. It had been through it all and so had you. He retired the shirt years ago, throwing it to the back of the closet with his other mementos. But when you had moved in, it took you no time to find the heathered grey ball stuffed in the far corner of his belongings. He had come home from work one day to find you sitting on the bed with it in your arms. “I didn’t know you still had this.” You smiled up at him, hugging the old shirt.

He again played it off like he didn’t care, it was his usual approach to life. But he was pleasantly surprised to see you remembered it as fondly as he did. It quickly turned into your favorite item of clothing, finally having the shirt of your dreams in your grasp. He didn’t mind seeing you in it after a long day either. 

----

He thumbed over the cracked school lettering, a smile tugging at his lips as he remembered all the times you had forced him to keep the ratty thing. Finally he had just given it to you, it wasn’t his problem anymore. Or so he thought, you still hung it up on his side of the closet. 

“Put this on and let's go to…” He trailed off as he caught sight of you fast asleep on his side of the bed. Your soft snores barely audible as he set the shirt on the nightstand. “You were wide awake not even five minutes ago…” He groaned. He looked between the shirt and the towel loosely wrapped around your body. After a moment of debate he decided to let you sleep in the towel, the thought of wrestling you into some actual clothing giving him a headache. 

He was ready to crawl into bed when he realized you had yet to do your skincare routine for the night. You had an extensive routine, the products taking up much of the bathroom counter space. You swore by them, stating that image was an important part of being a hero. He reached over to wake you up, hand stopping a few inches from your shoulder. “Tch, idiot.”

He now found himself looking over the stack of products shoved in the corner of the counter top, trying to remember all the items you used for this process. “Why do you have so much shit Y/N?” He grumbled, pulling out everything he faintly remembered ,carrying it to the bedroom.

He sat down on the bed next to you, the mattress dipping as he let the products rest in his lap. He hated the fact that he would do anything for you, this included. You were definitely going to hear about it in the morning. He picked up the pink spray bottle first, recalling it as the first item in your multistep night time routine. He gave your face a few spaced out sprays, retracting the bottle when you stirred.

“Uh, next is this green shit I think…” He mumbled, mentally recalling all the nights you had tried to force this on his face. Picked up the small green glass bottle, he looked over the bright pink lettering on the front. He unscrewed the top, resting his finger over the entrance as he turned it over. He dabbed the liquid left on his finger over your face, smoothing it into your skin. 

He set down the green bottle, his fingers still lingering on the underside of your jaw as he reached for the next product. He fumbled with a tall blue pump serum, his hands slick from the remaining skin product. He had bought this last bottle for you when he went in for hair gel, the price almost sending him into cardiac arrest. He never understood the price differences and why you couldn’t just buy the “knock off”, but it was your money. He repeated the process with the milky liquid, making sure to spread it evenly over your now dewy skin. He traced over your freckles that dotted your nose, his finger trailing down the bridge lightly. They had become more vivid since the beginning of summer, he loved the fact that he was lucky enough to be close enough to you day after day to notice something like that. 

“Almost done with this stupid shit…” Bakugou grumbled, unscrewed the lid of your moisturizer before dipping his fingers in the thick mixture. He dotted it around your soft skin, rubbing it in as he counted his blessings that you didn’t have more to do. 

He stood up again, holding the products against his chest. He gave you one last look over, smiling to himself. “Dumbass.” He softly chuckled, making his way towards the bathroom.

Once everything was put away he made his way back into the room. Shutting off the lights as he made his way towards the bed. Crawling in beside you he pushed you over to your side of the bed. As he sank into the sheets he thought of the black velvet box tucked inside of his coat pocket in the hallway closet. His fingers grazed your own under the comforter, tangling together. “You're gonna say yes huh?” He let his eyelids close as he chuckled to himself, thinking of the weekend ahead. 

[twiddle-dee-twiddle-dumb]

A/N: Ohohohoho word vomit, Toshi was really nagging in the back of my brain. So here it is... along with Mr. Hey Hey Hey Kotaro. I don't really know whether I've gotten better at writing. Still, I hope you enjoy though.

HAIKYU! BOYS & S/O ARGUED BEFORE AN IMPORTANT EVENT

Wakatoshi Ushijima

It’s rare for Ushijima to be silent whenever he really has something to say. He’s always been upfront. He always says what’s on his mind even if you may or may not like it. Of course, honesty and being genuine really helped you all through out your relationship. Yet, it’s different this time. He’s awfully quiet (like really, really, really quiet). He’s not even sparing you a glance across the living room. It looked like something’s brewing inside him and you can’t figure out what.

“Love, come on. Talk.”, you told him while standing on the doorway. You are wearing your work clothes except for the doctor’s coat that’s on your arm. Your shift’s about to start in two hours but you need to be at the hospital an hour before for the endorsements and other stuffs. “Babe…” you pleaded once more as you try to coax him to say something. But no avail. He just shifted on his seat, his eyes focusing on the tv screen. You sighed.

“Toshi, I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t know this would happen, that I would replace another doctor’s shift—” you mumbled on his neck as you hugged him in his seat. "Because you forgot to block your schedule for the next day." He said, cutting you off. It felt like cold water was splashed down on you. You can’t help but sigh in resignation. “I’m sorry.” That’s all you can say because it really is your fault this time.

Wakatoshi told you to clear your schedule a week ago before you shuffle shifts for the week. He knew that a doctor’s working schedule is erratic. That there some days and nights that you’re not going to be home and you’ll rarely see each other. There are some days that you and Toshi can spend more time together. He knew, that is why he asked you beforehand. “Yeah, sure babe.”, you agreed. You saw his rare boyish grin. However, you had a busy day at work and it slipped your mind.

“I’m really sorry, babe. I promise I’ll be there. I’ll really, really try hard to be there tomorrow. But I got to go. Love you.” You reassured him one last time then gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek. You rushed out the door. As much as you hate to leave your sulking husband, you have to. You pledge to do everything with chosen profession. Honestly, you felt terrible but you know better than to bring personal problems at work. Wakatoshi heard the door closed as you went out. He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or frustrated. He’s really looking forward that Sunday brunch because your parents are going to be there.

You arrived at work but your mind seems to fling back to the look you last saw on Ushijima. You can’t help but internally berate yourself for absolutely forgetting. You shrugged the thoughts off as you finished reading/studying the patient’s chart. You’ll make your morning rounds in a few hours and you’re starting to get dizzy from all the hospital buzz. You found it unusual so you decided to get it checked.

Your shift ended 30 minutes before the brunch so you just texted Toshi that you’ll just meet him there and that the both of you have things to discuss. He just replied “ok”. O-K, two letters. As much as it frustrates you, you cannot do anything about it since you’re kind of at fault here. Now you got to make it up to him and you just know the perfect thing to do.

You arrived at the venue, both of your parents and Toshi are already there. You went to place a chaste kiss to your husband and greeted your parents after. In the middle of the small gathering, your parents pointed out that both you look awkward and seems to be having a problem. There is no point denying it since your parents already saw it through. They gave you guidance and advices, as you admit that it was your mistake. To make it up for everyone especially Toshi, you handed them white envelops.

Your lips pursed in anticipation and preventing a grin. You witnessed how their reactions changed from confusion to surprised to elation. Your mother was crying. Both of your dads are teary eyed. Your darling husband, oh the man’s got stuck on his seat, his left hand tightly holding the paper.

“Are you serious?” he asked you, still trying to wrap the information in his head. “Oh, so you know how to talk?” you teased him which earned you a grunt from him. “Of course! Laboratory tests results don’t lie. I was thinking of using peed on tests but I figured laboratory tests would be more reliable plus it’s free since I work there.” You quickly supplied as you gobble up the fruits on your plate.

Wakatoshi pulled you for a kiss and a hug along with the murmurs of ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m gonna be a dad.’.

Indeed, it was a great make up gift to your then disappointed husband.

Kotaru Bokuto

All through out your relationship with Bokuto is nothing but perfect. Perfect in a sense that you are equal in everything, he has been a reliable and responsible partner to you as you are to him. You balance out each other. Since the beginning of your relationship—when you first met and become acquainted—to the whole marriage and building a home with you, he has been a stable partner despite his ‘antics’. Bokuto has his tendency to mess up but he always gets back up. He has these weaknesses (per Akaashi) but he always comes around to make up for it. You know all these things about him and you love him no less.

There is no perfect relationship and couple fights are not uncommon especially to the two of you. The only catch is that the both of you are willing not to sleep on it until you’ve come up to a resolution. The biggest fight you had is when Bokuto tried to act up because your schedules didn’t permit you to see him before he left for a game—this way back before you had your first child. You almost call everything off. You were just so overwhelmed with the marriage, the pregnancy (which Kou didn’t know about yet), and work. So, it ended in a huge fight that was resolved three days later. Since then, the both of you are trying to not make disagreements into arguments. But not this time…

You just arrived from the business trip. You had a long day and receiving the news from the teacher that Bokuto didn’t show up for the meeting just makes you want to pull your hair out in frustration. Bokuto met up with you in the doorway and tried to kiss you but you moved away. You went to your bedroom and changed. Bokuto followed you with a pout.

“Not now, Kou. I’m not happy with you right now.” you said as you do your nightly routine. “Baby why? Did I do something? You just got back from work. I took care of the house and our son. What did I do wrong?” Bokuto was utterly confused.

“Really now, Kou?” you spat, crossing your hands on your chest. “No, baby, I really have no idea.” Bokuto insisted calmly.

“Kou! You told me you’d attend the teacher’s meeting today but you didn’t! I found because the teacher texted me and I have to freaking call her just to apologize and to be informed what went on with the meeting. Ugh…! You… I just can’t with you right now.” you groaned in frustration. You recalled the moment you read the teacher’s message as you drive your way home. It turns out that that meeting was for the parents of the kids that’s going to finish the school term with special distinction and your husband was no show. You also recalled how tight you gripped the steering wheel that your knuckles turned white.

Kou’s expression changed like he remembered something he forgot about which fueled your anger more.

“You forgot?! You freaking forgot?! What the crap!” your voice went an octave higher and scoffed in disbelief. “Kou, I can’t believe you!” you said before Kotarou could retort because at the moment he’s at loss for words. He indeed forgot.

You are fuming. Despite how busy you were, you reminded him and he still forgot. You just controlled your urge to throw the lotion bottle at him. You groaned in frustration, a bit calmer now. Your husband sat down on your bed, head bowed down like a little kid being reprimanded.

“The meeting was that important, Kou. The teacher said that the attendees of that meeting are the parents of the children who has a special distinction this end of the school term. Our son was one of them.” Bokuto looked at you, eyes shone with pride but that was only for a brief moment the second you glared at him. “And you missed it.” You continued. Bokuto knew he can never argue with you on this, clearly, he’s at fault. “Babe, I’m very sorry.” He mumbled. You sigh. It already happened. You already forgave him before he apologized but it doesn’t mean you’re gonna let him go that easily. “Whatever, Kou. I’m sleeping.”

This was the last conversation you have, days ago. Until today you still ignored Bokuto not because you’re still mad at him—you already forgave him the morning after when he made you breakfast, but you like to see him grovel. The thing is, you want Bokuto to understand that there are responsibilities that goes beyond than providing comfort and stuffs for the family and sometimes he forgets that.

“Baby owl, look at our son. I can’t believe he’s up going up there to receive his first award in kindergarten.” He whispered, still a little wary, because you still haven’t talked to him properly. You hummed in answer. Bokuto looked at you with pleading eyes, “Babe, please. You haven’t talked to me properly in days. I miss you.” You looked at him, one brow raised. “I promise to be better. I promise not to forget things anymore especially if it concerns our son, just forgive me and talk to me.” He continued, with a subtle pout. You want to laugh, his expressions never changed. “Yes, Kou. I already forgave you.” Just as you finished saying those words and before Kou could answer, your son appeared in front of you. “Mommy forgive dada? Mommy kiss dada now?” You and Bokuto looked at each other and then laughed. “Yes, yes, yes, little owl. Mommy forgave me. Dada can kiss her now.” Your husband answer while winking at your son. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” your son gleefully cheered.

Kou kissed the top of your head while whispering 'I love you'. Kou then whispered praises to your son as you walked out of the venue hand in hand, off to your home where you’re going to celebrate all the milestones in life.

[wthtorke]

Cultural Differences

One shot commission for @scallopedsuitcase ! Thank you! 

You didn’t know what to do anymore.

When you heard that the Yautja-Human peace treaty was finally up and running and that not only that meant everyone was safe and sound but also that the galaxy’s greatest and sexiest species was to roam free within your planet. You were proudly part of a small community that wasn’t opposed to...engaging-, with such creatures.

It didn’t take long for you to find your Yautja of interest. He was tall. Taller than any other partner you ever had before. That alone did things to you. Their ships had taken residency in whatever forests seemed best to them. You’d never thanked the skies more for living right outside a reserve in your life. 

The first thing you checked was his wrist from afar. To make things easier for everyone while they sorted out yautja translators for humans, yautjas interested in human contact wore different colored lights on their wrist gauntlets. Some of the colors were; red for ‘No Contact’, yellow for ‘formal contact only’, blue for ‘Friendly contact’, and purple for ‘Accepting of human advances’.

Now, while the term was awkward at best, but you were the happiest human on earth when your crush showed up on your street with that purplish wrist gauntlet. it’s lights dancing, glowing brighter and then darker again in an endless cycle.

He was everything you’ve ever dreamed of physically and after some time observing and building up your courage-, you found that his personality was just as much endearing as his physique. 

You’d taken to hiking, something you didn’t exactly have the habit of doing, all in hopes of spotting him by his ship, and so you did. So, there began your mission. While you didn’t have a translator on your person, there was one language that was known to all the galaxy.

Flirting.

Flirting was supposed to be exciting, charming, and well, what better way to let someone know you were totally into them, right? Surely, some winks and gestures here and there would pass him the message loud and clear.

2 weeks in of hiking and you could feel your muscles hardening up. The way your body responded to this new routine spoke volumes of your previous sedentary ways, never really having a reason to leave the house if it wasn’t for work or well, buying what you needed. So far, however, your flirting had brought you no results. The times you could make out his expressions when he saw you were...not pleasing. He looked...confused, at best. 

So, you sat at home on a particularly cold night, holding a warm mug of hot chocolate to keep the shivers at bay, wondering what could you possibly be doing wrong. You bit your lip, winked, wore your best clothes, and still, nothing. It was frustrating.

You checked on your translator order situation, refreshing the page now and then as you knew they were updated at night. When the peace treaty was first announced and the ‘requesting’ system was up, you hurried to place your order. The translator wasn’t cheap, and it would only be one of the very prototypes, meaning it wouldn’t be able to translate everything at once so fluidly, but at least you’d be able to communicate faster before most of the people could, and that alone made you very happy, it was exhilarating. 

The translator had been ‘In Confection’ for months now, finally coming around the expected date of postage as your page told you. 

Another hour went by before you refreshed it again, the yellow dot becoming green with the text you had been waiting for underneath it. 

“In Transit.”

Finally.

With newfound excitement and determination, you pulled up the weather report for tomorrow’s morning and afternoon, sighing as you thought of your Yautja crush yet again.

The next morning came as fast as your head hit the pillow as you jumped up and out of the bed, ready to start your day with your morning jog, hoping to see him either on the way up or down the trail. Teeth brushed, hair tied up, and a water bottle filled, you made your way out the door, feeling the chilly morning air fill your lungs, wiping away the last remains of sleep from your body.

While jogging, you fell in thought. 

The translator wouldn’t take more than 3 days to arrive. In little time you’d be able to communicate with him...but what if he didn’t like you? 

Your jogging slowed down to a walk as this hit you hard in the head.

What if he had already rejected you and you didn’t catch it? You thought about it further and so came the odd looks he gave you, the puzzled stares, and more. You made your efforts well known and well shown as well, and he didn’t growl or try to move away, so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?

You looked at your feet as you walked, lost in those thoughts as you hit something hard, making you stumble back a couple of steps. You looked back up in surprise only to find out it wasn’t something but someone.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I um, I didn’t see you,” You said, doing your best to gesture to him, and then your eyes, trying to tell him what you said.

As always, he stood there for a second, slowly nodding afterward. He tilted his head to the side a bit, getting a little closer to your person as if inspecting your face. His tusks were close to your face, so close you thought he was going to kiss you. Or well, try to, given he didn’t have lips.

“I-,” was all you managed to get out before he stepped back, shaking his head slightly before reaching behind his back, where his pouch usually was. Hands coming forward again, he extended his arm, opening his palm to present you with something.

You gasped at the notion of receiving a gift from him, this could only mean courtship, right?

Looking down at his hand, you were more than confused to see a very human-made looking pill bottle. “What?” You said, picking it up from his hand.

‘Melatonin. Sleep aid.’

“Sleep aid?” You questioned, looking back up at him, “Are you saying I look tired?!” You said, shaking the pill bottle towards him, the yautja raising his hands a bit, the universal sign for ‘hey calm down’.

But what could this possibly mean?

“I tried so hard! And you say I took tired? I’ve been coming here every day to see you! You-!” You sighed, shoulders slacking a bit after your outburst. “Okay, okay. You know what? Fuck-, I get it, I’ll let you be,” You said, turning right back around, deciding to end your exercise right there when the biggest hand you ever felt closed around your arm, making you look back again.

You had heard the Yautja language before, but hearing it live was just as foreign. He was speaking fast, the clicks and guttural growls making absolutely no sense to you.

He still, somehow, managed to look confused while speaking such a harsh tongue.

“I don’t understand!” You exasperated, yanking your arm free and sighing again. You put your hand up, “Wait.” you said. 

He looked at your hand, which accompanied with the word made something light up in his face as he nodded this time. “Good, I’ll um, see you later,” You said, waving and making the rest of your way back to your house.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sitting on your couch while staring at the pill bottle on the table. It was what it was, you supposed. It was truly melatonin. 

But what did he mean with it? Did he want you to sleep well? Why did he think you weren’t getting enough sleep?

“Where did he even get this?!”

The pill bottle was sealed still, just like the ones you’d buy at the drug store. Could you imagine? A Yautja walking in a drug store and purchasing melatonin? If you told that to someone, they’d think you were crazy, even with the whole peace treaty going on.

Another day went by and you didn’t go jogging anymore, afraid your ‘relationship’ could turn sour if you saw him again without your translator. Still, the pill bottle haunted you, sitting in the exact place on your table.

On the second morning after your disastrous encounter, the doorbell rang. And you knew exactly what it was for. Sprinting for the door, the mailman was different, clearly a private company worker, holding your package with both his hands, looking around as he waited for you to come up.

Package picked up, opened, and fiddled with. After 15 minutes, you sat in your living room muttering words into your translator, watching as it came to life, making some odd sounds in what you knew was the yautja language.

Now you could go talk to him, for real.

Picking up the pill bottle from the table, you sprinted up the trail again, regretting not bringing your water bottle as you reached the place where you last saw him, panting and a little red in the face.

You looked back up when you heard soft purring, a sound you hadn’t heard before but wished dearly to.

‘It means affection’ you recalled reading once from the article the first human to mate a yautja wrote, ‘Fondness’.

You straightened yourself, clearing your throat before looking up at him, “Um, hi, I- ah fuck,” you fiddled some more, producing your translator from your pocket, getting a curious look from the yautja before you.

“I hope this works” you muttered before lifting the device closer to your mouth and taking a deep breath. “Hi, I hope this translates what I’m saying decently, now, I’d please like to know what did you mean with this?” You said into it, waiting a second before it started its clicking noises.

The Yautja’s expression changed instantly, his eyes widening as he leaned forward to the sound of his language. He squinted as he kept listening, making you blush in embarrassment. God, was the translator that bad?

Upon hearing the last of the clicking, you lifted the pill bottle to him for emphasis, waiting for him to react.

He stood up straight again, eyeing the bottle he gave you a few days prior, still unopened. He extended his hand, shaking his head when you offered him the bottle, pointing instead to the translator in your other hand. “Oh, of course!” You handed it to him, watching as he had a look at the digital screen, apparently switching its mode from ‘Human to Yautja’ to ‘Yautja to Human’ seeing as the translator worked with just about every human language around the world.

Satisfied with the settings, he started speaking into it himself, gesturing to the pill bottle while he did so and then, to your surprise, to your face. This made you gasp a bit, your mind jumping to the worst conclusions possible. Did he think you were ugly? Well, you’d have to wait and see.

As he finished speaking, you both gave the translator a couple of seconds when a male voice spoke up, making you jump a bit, hands shaking in anticipation. “Hello. I thought you were sick. Whenever we had an encounter, you would make these strange expressions. I searched for them, the results were that what could be possibly making you have these...tics, was lack of sleep. The excessive blinking, biting your lips, involuntary facial pulling, all are the result of sleepless nights, excessive exhaustion, and the medicine for that is...that, for humans anyway.”

“WHAT?!” You yelled, snatching the translator back from his hand as he stared at you with yet another confused expression. “I was flirting with you! Flirting! I’m not sick!” You said, holding out the translator as it did its thing.

Confusion melting away into realization, he spoke again, not bothering to hold the translator but simply stepping closer to you.

“You were trying to court me?”

“Yes! I was winking at you! It’s a human thing!” You said, then realizing your mistake, “Oh...human thing...Ah fuck” You covered your face in embarrassment, “God, that’s why you always looked at me like that, I-”

“Would you still like to...court me?”

“Yes!” You said, head jerking up again so fast the yautja before you flinched a bit. “I-, yes.” You cleared your throat, a hard blush creeping its way across your face again.

“Good, it was my plan to court you too...after you had healed of your...sickness.” He said, chuckling, “Which apparently was no sickness at all.” He cleared as you squinted at him, “Well, I’m Yeyinde.” He said, “I’m glad we can finally communicate, always wanted to ask you a few things.”

You smiled, feeling that blush coming back again, “How about we go on a walk? Then we can talk about anything you want” You said, holding out your free hand for him to take.

“Of course,” He rumbled, massive hand closing gently around yours as you started walking up the rest of the trail.

[fukurodanni]

love for the rich and emotionally stunted: a comprehensive guide

ch. 2/7 -- prev. -- next. pairing: jumin han x f!reader warnings: n/a series summary: in the months following the incident with his father's most recent paramour, glam choi, the corporate heir of C&R finds himself discovering exactly what it is that makes a person in love so blind. ao3 link

note: sticking a read more right at the beginning. u kno how it is. thank you for sticking around i'll try my best to keep updates within a week or so!

(weeks prior.)

Jumin Han has entered the chatroom.

Jumin Han

She talked to me today.

ZEN

??

Who?

707

She??

There’s a she?!

Jumin Han

Oh.

I must have neglected to mention it.

ZEN

????

Last time there was a “she”...

Jumin Han

… No.

There’s a woman at my office.

Jaehee Kang

Does she work for you?

Jumin Han

Yes

707

That took an awfully long time for you to type lolol

Are you sure~~

Jumin Han

Yes. She wears a lanyard.

Jaehee Kang

Do you not know her name??

Jumin Han

I should think it would seem impolite after… all that.

Jaehee Kang

???

ZEN

?????

All that WHAT?

Jumin Han

I only caught a glimpse of her lanyard. I don’t know.

ZEN

Dodged my question… T_T

Jaehee Kang

Is this that woman you see in the mornings?

Jumin Han

How did you ....

ZEN

?!?!

707

Is our Jumin finally getting some?!

I’m so proud. Haha T_T

Jumin Han

Getting some… what?

Jaehee Kang

I can look into her.

For research purposes. Of course^^

Jumin Han

;;;

I only just started seeing her this month.

At the door. Seeing her at the door.

707

Seeing her OTL

Maybe she’s your future lover come to save you^^

Jumin Han

I doubt that.

ZEN

Yeah lolol

I doubt it too

And right after the Choi thing?? No way.

707

T_T

Ur right

There’s no way...

-

“Do you play video games, Mr Han?”

That’s a new one. “Where would I find the time?” He asks, thinking of Yoosung. “It’s a useless hobby.”

“That was a quick answer,” you reply. “Who hurt you?”

Jumin raises a brow, inquisitive. “No one.”

“Okay,” you say, the beginnings of a grin playing on your lips. “Who ruined video games for you?”

He thinks of the dark smudges under Yoosung’s eyes, the awful typos and the messages at 3am. It’s only a little funny. The door closes behind them. “No one in particular.”

“You’re smiling, Mr Han. Just a little.” You smile too at this, tilting your head in that curious way of yours. When you reach the lobby and then your separate ways, Jumin spares a glance at you.

He wants to say something more, something lodged very deep in his throat that comes out dry breath. He’s never been too good at small-talk, not with colleagues, not with business outside of work. He wants to be, just a little.

He’s not quite sure how that came to be.

-

It’s beyond embarrassing the way he comes up to you in the cafeteria. “You work here,” he says, a very belated realization.

You blink a few times, as if processing. “Yes,” you say slowly. “I have a lanyard.” You wave the offending item around and Jumin finally, finally catches a glimpse of your name.

“I see,” Jumin says, because that’s all he really can say. “Work hard.”

He consults his phone right away, willing the heat from his face and opening the messenger app. It goes as well as expected when he mentions it so vaguely-- Hyun rags on him for his lack of conversational skills and Yoosung drops a line or two about his own miserable love life. In any case, Assistant Kang’s information on you had only reached him earlier today and in a way he’s still coping. It had been baffling to say the least, finally having everything in front of him rather than scattered in the bits and pieces of your dialogue.

You work, technically, in the same position Assistant Kang does. Only in the fashion department, of which Jumin had strategically ignored after Echo Girl and the Chois. It really isn’t his fault he hadn’t noticed you-- not since before this month when you began arriving so consistently.

“Something on your mind?” Assistant Kang asks, looking up from where she’s shuffling through a stack of papers. It isn’t unusual for her to break the silence with a quip-- she’s always been good at easing into a mode of conversation that takes the edge off. As a good assistant and employee should, of course. Jumin wonders if he should relay this to her.

“Nothing,” he says instead, because surely she already knows. “Is it polite to bring gifts for someone you’re sure you will be seeing every morning?”

She raises a thin brow. “Who-- that woman at the fashion department?”

Jumin deigns not to answer right away, looking down at the state of his nails and the tick of his wristwatch. “Surely there must be some etiquette about that.”

-

Jaehee Kang

Buy her coffee.

ZEN

Get her a promotion lol

707

A new car!!!

Yoosung★

Maybr a nicce pen

??

-

“Any favorite TV shows?” You ask one morning. “Personally, I’m fond of office romances.”

Jumin lags for a moment, waiting to catch up. It isn’t an unusual occurrence. “Is that an innuendo?”

You smile, a little flushed-looking, and wave a hand. “Nope. Not at all.” When you look at the second coffee in his hand, though, it seems you need a second to catch up yourself. You’d mentioned offhandedly how you take your coffee the day before, and today something had stopped him at the threshold of the coffee shop he stops at every morning. Funny how things work like that.

“This is for you,” he says determinedly, and you smile a little but there’s still an edge.

“You dodged my question.” You state simply. Jumin does not know what to say.

He thinks about it for a moment, really thinks about it. The only thing that really comes to mind are the Sunday morning programs, and he doesn’t really know them off the top of his head. Maybe the morning news. “No TV shows. Next question.”

“Okay then,” you say, “Any pet peeves?”

Jumin smiles a little. It isn’t really conscious, but he’s finally figured out a way to respond and he just hopes it takes well. “Women who stop me at the door in the morning.”

“Oh,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. You hum appreciatively. He feels strangely, indirectly accomplished. “Shame. Mine’s men who give me three word responses when I ask them things.”

He scoffs, although it isn’t as hard as it usually comes out. “I answered that in a sentence.” He says, very assuredly. When he looks back at you there’s a softer smile at your lips, rounded at the corners and not quite so mischievous as he’s seen it look before. It looks fond.

“I know,” you reply. He feels a little warmer now, turning the corner where you two part ways. You offer him a two-fingered salute, a “See you in the morning!” and a final turn.

And then you’re gone.

-

The next time the conversation lingers long past the lobby it’s because you’ve coaxed him into talking about Elizabeth III. There’s a point where you’ve reached the elevator and he’s talking to you about her care routine and the minutiae of what it takes to keep her fur so soft and pristine (much of it is her own work and her natural beauty-- of course) and he’s only barely aware of how long he’s been going on, but he pauses to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, between Jaehee’s hesitancy and Luciel’s rabid praise and Hyun’s outright disgust--

But there’s something about the way you’re looking at him when he’s finished, curiouser and half-curved into a smile. And he’s been on the receiving end of that before-- his father’s lovers, interviewers and subordinates-- but none of them have ever seemed so affectionate.

He’s seen the same look before when it’s Jaehee with a new photocard, the way Yoosung danced around Rika. It’s the glint in Luciel’s glasses when he gets to working and it’s something, something.

You look like you’ve seen something beautiful.

Which is understandable to him, really, having just shown you pictures of his Elizabeth III. What he understands less is the way you’re looking at him and not the open phone, caught up in a silence that seems way too heavy for a conversation about his cat. Even when the elevator dings it’s with some trepidation that you leave first, a memory, a discovery pulled taut between you two.

“I hope I get to meet her sometime,” you say.

Jumin nods, wordless. The delight on your face at such a simple gesture fixates itself in the forefront of his mind until he returns home to Elizabeth, flickering like hell and unbidden and unexpected but not exactly unwelcome. It’s just as confusing to him as it sounds on paper.

-

Somehow Jaehee gets to you first.

For all the time he’s spent working with Jaehee, working around her and in her general proximity, he doesn’t actually know what time she gets into the building. She seems like an inevitability, something constant and fixed and always there.

So when he holds the door open for two women, Jumin is feeling like he had seen something he wasn’t supposed to. Especially since the two of you seem to be chatting so jovially, shaking her hand with both of yours when you go to part.

There’s another something clogging his throat, a cloying want and a halfhearted desire to draw that same laugh from you, that same open brightness. He hasn’t let himself feel so much about one person-- one particular and fixed point in his life. Jumin feels like he’s chasing-- some feeling, some unnamed ball of fire-- a meteor, blazing and brilliant and too much to be real.

It’s too much to be compared to anything else, not when Sarah Choi was an unlit match next to what a beaming bonfire you are. Suddenly Jumin feels more tightly wound than he usually does.

And really, truly, it feels like a lot to handle, so he turns on his heel after silently handing you the coffee and begins to march. It feels like karmic debt for not having experienced these things as a schoolboy, and then only once as an adult. He doesn’t even know if the one time counted.

“Mr Han--” you say, and it happens at the same time he holds his breath to turn again. Just to look, to see if you appeared as off kilter as he felt. Maybe the world had rotated wrong today.

You stop there in your tracks and he really does believe for a moment that the world has gone astray-- because then it would explain the way air isn’t getting to his lungs right. He inhales just to make sure and before any other dialogue comes from your lips he asks, “Walk with me?”

You both take the elevator then.

-

Jaehee Kang

She’s a very nice woman.

Yoosung★

Huh?

707

U met her?!?!!

Tell me everything

-

It makes your mornings longer, the introduction of the elevator route. He isn’t sure how it became mutual agreement and routine, the same way the cup of coffee steams in your hands and the way you ask after Elizabeth III. The way the door gets held open.

Jumin isn’t sure how many mornings go by, how many of them are spent dreading the chime of the elevator, but one of them brings a much quieter you. And you’re usually such a whirlwind of life, pulling him toward and towards you-- he’d be lying to himself more than usual if he said he wasn’t worried.

You look like you’re steeling yourself too, and you’ve never done that-- there isn’t a thing you’ve said to him that was measured or prepared. You’re kind of like an overexcited puppy, and he’s never been too fond of dogs.

He feels something slide out of place, something like a realization that’s far grander than he knows, hovering at the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know what it is yet, not really. He’s barely out of his head, ready to ask if you’re alright--

And you cut him off. Like you did that first morning, knocking the breath from his lungs and everything else out of place. Jumin likes things neat and tidy, likes things where they should be, where he’s used to seeing them. You aren’t too good for him, he thinks.

Then you ask, “Would you want to go out sometime?” And he has no reference materials and no forewarning and no prepared response. The odds are against him.

So against all odds and every simmering nerve in his body he says, “Yes.”

tags: @vandysgf @mrs-han