#cause it transports me back to some of the best and worst years of my life

[slytherinshua]

I think one of the reasons the astronaut continues to be so nostalgic and sentimental to me is because its release marked the close of my bts era— not in a sad sudden way, but like a gentle taper out to an end.

I never biased jin, yet his vocals were the start, middle, and end to everything I associate with bts and my time with them as a group. epiphany was the first bts song I ever heard in 2018, even though I wouldn’t stan them for 3 more years. moon is my favourite bts song to this day. the astronaut ending my era with them as my ults is a picture perfect close.

I think jin is under-appreciated as an artist and a vocalist. because of his personality, we mostly love him for his jokes, or because of his visuals, he’s known for his face. yet when he sings songs like abyss, epiphany, the astronaut, moon, or awake, his voice holds a million emotions and feelings in the melody. there is something so timelessly beautiful about his voice, and for the first time since I stopped following bts closely, I’m really so excited for his solo album. I hope he can continue to shine as an artist and a vocalist into his late 30’s and 40’s. his voice is one that will never get old and I certainly will never get tired of hearing him sing.

deep in my bts era, I always used to debate whether my favourite bts vocalist was jin or jungkook. and it was always funny to me why jin made it to such a high ranking when jungkook was my bias. jin didn’t even wreck me like other members, and at the time, I enjoyed his solos, but they weren’t in the ranking to become my favourite timeless songs like they are now that I’ve stepped away.

although I’m not active in the fandom anymore and have disconnected from content and the members, the music still stays, their voices still stay, always reminding me how bts changed my life in such a dramatic way. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how different I would be if I hadn’t found them. it’s not just about kpop, fanfic or being a stan— finding them was the first time I ever found something by myself, for myself and enjoyed it independently without the influence of anyone else. and the start of that was with jin and his voice and I’ll never forget how much he changed my life.

[arlo1611]

Another side of you (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader) - Part 1

So this is the start of a maybe possible enemies to lovers multiple part series?? Also, Ghost won of a recent pole I did (201 votes) so thats why it's more Ghost - feel free to leave requests in the comments or dm me :)

Word count: 2292

Thank you for the likes on my last post <3

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TW: Injuries and blood

The 141 had just got back from yet another horrific mission. You'd think by now they would have seen just about everything, but you'd be wrong. It was meant to be a simple mission, at least thats what Captain Price said. Go in, get the intel, leave. Simple as. But realistically, does anything ever go completely according to plan with this lot?

They had been sent into a long term abandoned prison that had recently been taken over by the enemy. They were tasked with finding intel and doing it without raising any alarms, all was going well until Y/N and Ghost so into some sort of argument. It was probably over nothing, but it caused the mission to get compromised and it went from a quiet mission to all weapons free. Not only was the fight hard, but the things seen inside those prison walls made sure each member of the task force would have nightmares about it.

The ride back was utterly silent. Y/N didn't utter a word, he just sat with his head rested against the cold metal frame of the transport van. He couldn't get the imagines of the violent things he'd seen that night out of his head. His face was covered in dirt, grime and blood, which as it dried made his skin feel taught and uncomfortable. To his left, was Captain Price and Gaz (Kyle Garrick). They were talking quietly amongst themselves while Price smoked a cigar. Opposite them, was Soap and Ghost. They were both in silence, since it had been Y/N and them 2 who had seen the worst off it all. Soap's usual relatively outgoing personality was gone, he just sat in a dazed silence as his injured leg began to hurt more. Ghost, well, he's always quiet. A blood splatter stained across the infamous skull mask.

As the transport truck hit a particularly deep pothole, Y/N pressed his hand further onto the right side of his abdomen. He had been shot, and it hurt like hell. The thing was, he had been shot when the fight with the enemy first broke out. No body in his team had noticed it, and he didn't blame them. Things were tense when he got hurt. He knew he couldn't say anything then, because it would ruin the mission and they would most likely have to abort it. They needed that intel, desperately. So, with much effort, he patched himself up as best he could with the shirt of a dead enemy and carried on. It had been at least 6 hours since he'd been shot, with no medical attention the pain was almost fucking unbearable.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, the same pothole that had caused an increase in his pain, had done the same to Ghost. He too, had been shot. However, Ghost had been shot toward the end of the mission. They had the intel and were running to this very transport truck when he got hit. In the chaos, yet again, no body noticed his wound. He, cleverly, had packed bandages and were in a pocket in his tactical vest. He quickly wrapped up his wound and legged it for the truck, causing even more pain. He thought that he would be able to handle the bullet to the left side of his abdomen alone, since he didn't like the attention Soap (John MacTavish) got for just a leg wound. Imagine how people would react to his injury? He didn't want to find out. He had been dealing with the pain for about an hour now, it seemed to just be getting worse.

Y/N looked at Ghost. He saw how weak he was and decided then and there he was going to spar Ghost when they returned to base, despite himself being equally as weak. For unknown reasons, the pair did not like each other. Ever since they meet, almost a year and a half ago (which is when Y/N first joined the 141) they constantly butted heads. Never got on, always argued and constantly 'sparred'. In their heads, it was just an excuse to hurt the other without consequences. The score was 6 wins and 6 loses to each of them, which Y/N didn't like one bit. He winced in pain when the truck went other another pothole.

An hour later, the 141 arrived back at their base. Y/N thought about mentioning the bullet in his side, but after seeing all the drama around Soap... he decided he could handle it on his own. It was only a few moments later that he asked Ghost to spar him, which Ghost immediately accepted. There was only a brief moment of doubt in Ghost's head if he should do this or not, but when he saw Y/N tying his knuckle tape all he wanted to do was beat him too a pulp.

As the two stepped into the ring, they knew something was off about the other. Despite hating one another, due to all the sparring they had come to learn each each others body language extremely well. Something was wrong, they both knew it.

"Are you 2 already sodding sparring again?" Gaz called out, standing at the edge of the ring to watch. "Sure are." Y/N replied, not taking his eyes off his opponent. "This is getting ridiculous now lads." Price said, joining Gaz to watch the match but he was clearly irritated. "Aye, why do you hate each other so much anyway?" Soap asked weakly, as he hobbled over on some crutches to watch the fight as well. "Hate it a strong word. But it's the one I'd use." Ghost announced coldly. And with that phrase alone, the men knew they would not back down from this fight.

Ghost threw a big right hook as his opening move, immediately going for an offensive approach to the fight. However, due to his sluggish movements Y/N was able to predict that and dodge. Y/N grabbed Ghost's wrist, got behind him and kicked him too the floor. Ghost hit the floor with a hard thud, but recovered quickly albeit slightly winded. Ghost, angered by this dirty move, rushed Y/N. Running at him, tackling him to the floor and pinning him there. After a few seconds of struggle, Y/N kneed Ghost as hard as he could in the ribs. Unknowingly striking his bullet wound.

Ghost immediately recoiled in agony and grunted in pain loudly. Y/N realised he was really hurt after just one kick to the ribs, which was very, very unusual. Ghost is normally like hitting a wall, so why was he so hurt? This left Y/N confused and wide open. Ghost took his chance and punched Y/N straight in the ribs as hard as he could. Unknowingly hitting his bullet wound too. "Fuck!" Y/N shouted out of sheer agony. Ghost backed off. It usual took Y/N so many more hits to get that type of reaction from him, what was going on? The 2 men stood up and faced each other, opposite ends of the ring. The spectators where in a stunned silence. The match had only lasted a minute tops, but it was obvious each men were in a lot of pain.

"You alright mate?" Y/N asked, his voice full of the usual coldness he had for Ghost but also a hint of slight concern. His question caught Ghost by surprise. He figured it was some kind of trick, or ploy to make him loose. "I'm fine. Just winded." Ghost snapped back, anger flaring in his voice. Y/N clutched his bullet wound, a small red stain had appeared. "Alright then. You win." Y/N said, his voice growing weak. With that, he swiftly left the ring and headed into the changing rooms. Ghost won that match due to forfeit from the other player. Ghost was utterly shocked, he thought Y/N hated him. So why did he forfeit a match when Ghost showed clear signs he was weak?

Meanwhile, Y/N stumbled into the men's changing room and locked the door. He practically fell down onto a bench and took his shirt off. Blood flowed from the reopened wound and when he took off the self-made bandage, a bloodied bullet clattered to the floor. The sound of it pierced Y/N's ears, something so small was suddenly so loud. He knew if he didn't patch himself up soon, he'd pass out from blood loss. He frantically went through the medicine cabinet, the only thing he could find was rubbing alcohol. The only thing he had on him was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A lightbulb went off in his head and he knew what he had to do. Y/N covered his wound in the rubbing alcohol and lit it on fire. He shouted loudly in pain, tears welling in his eyes but what he was doing (cauterising the wound) was working. Inevitably, he passed out from the pain. When he woke up, at least 2 hours later, he wrapped himself tightly in bandages, cleaned up and headed to his room in the barracks.

2 hours previous, a few minutes after Y/N forfeited the match and bleed across the changing room, Ghost practically ran to his room in the barracks. He sat on his bed and ripped his shirt off, he was bleeding badly from his wound. Thats when he noticed than Y/N's kick had dislodged the bullet that was inside him. He took a deep breath, pulled the bullet out and applied extreme pressure to his now gushing wound. He opened his nightstand and opened up his med kit, inside was medical wire and a needle. He carefully and painfully stitched himself up, it took him an hour and a half. It was even harder when he began tearing up due to the pain. He cleaned away the blood and wrapped himself up tightly in bandages. When it was done he sat on his now stained bed in silence.

A few minutes later, Ghost heard stumbled walking outside his room. Confused at who would be up at this time (it was now midnight), he slowly got up and opened his door. He looked down the corridor only to see Y/N entering his room. The 2 made direct eye contact with each other and since neither had a shirt on, saw the bloody or burnt body of the other. Y/N's gaze softened slightly, he then gestured with his head for Ghost to follow him. With little to no hesitation, Ghost did.

When Ghost entered Y/N's room, he was sat in a chair, back facing Ghost with an empty chair opposite him. The only light that illuminated the room was a small desk lamp. Ghost sat down and for a few minutes they sat in silence. Deep down, they individually knew they had to stop his hatred of each other. The team were growing irritated with their bickering and today it even fucked up a mission, leaving them with severe injuries. With this realisation, Ghost gently removed his mask. Everyone else in the 141 had seen his face, except for Y/N. This was a sure fire way to show he wanted to change things. Y/N showed a small amount of shock at the sight of Simon's face, but it was obvious that Y/N was not judging him. Y/N studied Simon's face and too his dismay, found him quite handsome.

"Why'd you forfeit that match?" Simon spoke up breaking the silence. "Worried about you." Y/N replied, seemingly annoyed he had to admit that. Simon laughed, but it turned into a small cough due to the injuries. "Well when I saw how weak and sluggish your first punch was I knew something was up." Y/N snapped back, making Simon cease his laughing and grow irritated at the insult. "Weak huh? When you kicked my back in, I knew something up too. It usually hurts more. Mate, your kick is what I'd call weak."

Y/N didn't reply, not wanting to start an argument. So, they went back to silence. Y/N's eyes shifted down Simon's exposed chest to his blood stained bandage and body. "Why didn't you say anything about that?" He questioned. Simon sighed. "I got hit toward the end of the mission. I didn't want all the unnecessary attention so I just cracked on." Simon replied calmly, but that response sparked anger in Y/N. "What do you mean 'Just cracked on'? You could've fucking died mate! Shit, leaving that type of wound you'd just be risking further missions!" Y/N said, raising his voice slightly. Now Simon was mad. "Your one to bloody talk! Look at the state of you! All burned up and shit! The fuck happened?!" Simon pressed, wanting Y/N to tell him. Y/N explained what he did with cauterising the wound and it leaves Simon stunned and with a new found respect.

"Can I ask you a question?" Y/N asks after a few more moments of silence had passed. "Why'd you let me forfeit? I've tried to do it before but you always drag me back." he says. Simon suddenly looked embarrassed. "I was, I was worried about you too." He says meekly. "Oh. And... that?" Y/N questions further, pointing to the skull mask in Simon's hand. "I thought I should show my face if we are going to have to be friends now." Simon said bluntly. "We are friends now huh?" Y/N teased, but secretly he was pleased. Simon nodded, a small smile forming on his face.

After a year and half of hating someone, its hard to become friends after just one conversation. However, it's safe to say from then on the pair tried hard to better their friendship. Maybe, it would become something more.

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Let's settle down for the night.

Quick summary: You’ve been each other’s for a long time. You trust him with your life, your body, you time, and he trusts you with his. Sometimes, though, you find yourself craving a quieter kind of intimacy. Without the helmet.

Word count: 6.3K

Warnings: A lot of fluff 😩😩; may be inaccurate ‘cause, I gotta say, I’m a Star Wars fan but I did not proper hyperfixate on it like with some of the other stuff I’ve written about (buffs, please help me out here); kind of angsty??? like, reader’s an orphan etc; allusions to smut (under the shirt stuff amiright amiright); explicit mentions of smut.

A/N: What a fittie, guys. Bound to happen. This one goes out to @manicdream for giving me a lil’ prompt where you and Din are in looove aaaand—I guess you’ll have to keep reading for the fluuuff and feels! I really had fun with this one! Love this stoic, brooding, dramatic lad, and I enjoyed exploring love languages, their communication, etc, etc. i have no idea when this would take place, so just try to follow along, I guess??? I hope you enjoy this short, little story! I think this is gonna be just one part by the way. For all you Pedro Pascal sluts out there 😌😌😌, I do think I’m gonna write a smut thing for Joel Miller TLOU. NO PROMISES, THOUGH. Just finished the latest episode and what the fuck 😀😀😀 it just gets more and more traumatising huh. Anyway, please enjoy this happy fic!

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We’ve been walking for a while, now. Muscles aching, legs straining. The low, sloping sands of the Tatooine desert are pink in the setting suns, stretching on for years and years. 

The light flames up brilliant red and orange and bright white in his beskar, and I have to squint my eyes when I look over at him. From this angle, he looks like he’s all armour. When the suns finally go down, he’ll be a silhouette. That time of day always suits him best. You know how people you meet just seem like things sometimes. Din’s like rich soil, the kind that you can sink your fingers deep into with one single push. Or like a rock – with how little he talks, I used to think he was a rock. He’s also dusk. Dusk happens to be my favourite time of day. 

My feet are dragging again. If I were with anyone else, I’d never let my guard down—but it’s just us, and we’re in the middle of nowhere, and we’ve got a whole bunch of credits in my pack that’s almost enough to finally buy us our own ship. Won’t have to put up with sceptical glances on commercial flights anymore, or getting bashed about by produce on cargo ships we’ve had to sneak onto. Maker, I miss the comfort of the Razor Crest. But, y’know, it’s—it’s what it is. Lucky for us, transportation is the worst of our problems – it’s been a relatively quiet trip over the planet; no trouble—yet. Quietly trading with sketchy contractors in isolated taverns. We never ask questions about the high-paying ones, whether we’re implicitly tipping the scales of some political bantha shit, but I’m always curious.

A dry gust of wind cools my stifling skin, a break from the still weather.

“You alright back there?”

Din has his head angled slightly back towards me. His grainy, modulated voice curves my mouth up into a smile, and I stare fondly over at him as he slows his pace a little to fall into step with me. I urge him not to slack with the jerk of my head.

“Yeah, ‘f’course,” I assure him, tongue buzzing with foul saliva. Can’t drink just yet, though, ‘cause I already chugged about half of my waterskin way back at sun-up. He’s offered me the rest of his, but I refused to take it. Though, right now, grimacing at the bile in my mouth, I am thinking hard about changing my mind. “We’re safe,” I say confidently. We’ve been careful.

“I know.” Yeah, I know he knows. “I was just wonderin’ cause, y’know, you’ve been a little quiet.”

Playfully, I nudge into him (damn that beskar) and laugh as he shoves me back. “What, so you’re saying you want my ‘mindless chit-chatting’ back now, huh?”

I’m talking out of my ass, of course. We’ve had a thing going for a while, now – it’s been just us for a while. I know he doesn’t mean any harm when he teases me like that. It takes a lot for him to hurt my feelings, and he never does. Maybe at first, when neither of us would admit that we were happier being together than apart. I don’t know why I didn’t just tag along with him sooner. If I had known that those gruff, little grunts he’d make during conversation when we’d cross paths during jobs meant that he was enjoying himself?—well, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time in asking him to be my partner. In all senses.

But still, he feels the need to explain: “Ah, you know I was just—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I suppose that, after so long needing to be strong and tough and brave and coarse to get on with life and work, he likes being soft. This is soft for him: letting me walk ahead just slightly, his shoulder behind mine, so that he’s always got my six; teasing me about things he’s told me are his favourite qualities of mine; secretly watching me from behind the security of his visor. I don’t tell him I love it, and I don’t tell him I notice, but he knows, I think.

He turns away to complete a quick scan of the horizon on his blind side, and I do the same for mine, before we turn back to each other. He’s tired – I can tell by the way he’s leaning in towards me, like he wants to be held. The privacy of this big, wide desert must be a comfort to him. I know it is to me.

“How’s your day been?” he asks me lowly.

I laugh. “You mean the day we’re currently spending together?”

He nods. “Tell me about it.”

Stars, I’m glad it’s getting dark, because my cheeks start to glow with warmth. Not necessarily just his voice or even the words. Consistently, he always asks about my day. Yesterday, it was in a dingy tavern, after avoiding a bar fight (some prick tried to trick me out of a drink the contractor bought me fair ‘n’ square). The day before, it was in the dead of night, looking up at the stars, with the bounty, unconscious, lying between us.

“I liked it.” He scoffs. “I did. There’s been no trouble, and, y’know, I grew up on a desert planet like this.”

“Bantha farmers, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

He grunts.

I laugh again. “You bastard! You’re so judgemental. Honestly worse than those Coruscanti pricks we worked for ages back. Remember how they looked at us when we traded? Tried to underpay us? Bet they’ve never risked even chipping a nail.” Bounty hunting is a little more difficult these days without the assurance of carbonite freezing, without the security of the Guild – we’ve had to complete ten times as many jobs for five times lesser rates just to get where we are now. Reminds me of when I first started out: bounties fighting back, trying to make a run for it. But what else are we supposed to do?—take up a job where?

The suns slip below the horizon, and everything is washed a low, gentle violet—and Din is that silhouette, now, and everything seems peaceful, like it all fits together just right. Even though, of course, it might not fit together just right when I try to haggle the price of that gunship down a few credits or so and the vendor absolutely obliterates me with the most personal, cutting insults in the entire galaxy. Din’s no help in the communication sector there – the stoic type – but, if anything, he’ll be able to stand behind me with that armour and steel glare and weapons of his to try and intimidate that damn stubborn seller all the way to fuckin’ Bargain Town. Because, damn, we’re relying on it. Peli, bless her soul, doesn’t have anything large or powerful enough to support the three of us on our run from the Empire.

Speaking of the three of us, the kid’s absence, I hate to say it, is kind of nice. Of course, I worry about him, but I trust that he’s being well-looked-after at the garage. Safer than he would be with us. But I haven’t had Din to myself in what seems like years. Last time he touched me was—was—a long time ago. Too much stress. Not enough time to savour it. And he’s all about savouring those kind of things, those moments, dragging them out as long as possible.

I can feel his stare on the side of my face. My sweaty, greasy, clogged face – stars, I can’t wait until we reach a water supply.

“Are you looking at me right now?” I ask, amused.

He does another strategically-timed scan of the area, turning away from me even though I can’t see his face. I wonder if he blushes under that helmet, if it’s really obvious. “You’re looking at me.”

I roll my eyes and smile softly, lowering the scarf around my nose and mouth and tucking the fabric beneath my chin. “How was your day?”

“Good.”

“Good why?”

“‘Cause I’ve got your mindless chit-chattin’ to keep me company.”

Forcing a laugh, I glare at him again. “Ha-ha, you’re so funny, Din. Real knee-slapper right there.”

It goes quiet again – he becomes like that, sometimes, after I use his name. The first time I spoke it was in the dark hull of the Razor Crest, in hyperspace. He sat and stared straight ahead at the streaking silver, motionless, wordless. Here, the desert air is still and calm. His shoulder is still brushing up against mine.

“Are you tired?”

Yes. My legs feel like they’re about to fuckin’ fall off. Here, walking along the plain, is good, but earlier, climbing over dunes and rocks and boulders, was hell. But we need to be getting back to the kid as soon as possible. As much as I trust Peli, I need to see him and make sure he’s okay. So, I shake my head and say, “It’s only a little ways up till the next settlement.”

“It’s a lot further.”

My heart drops. “Oh.” Wishful thinking’s just got me forging fake memories at this point. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me.

“D’you think we should stop?”

“No, we can—”

“I’m tired—” he abruptly comes to a halt, apparently deciding that this little patch of sand will be a nice bed, “—let’s stop for the night.” He beckons me to him, coming in close and retrieving the lamp from inside the sling-bag, setting it down.

Well, if he insists.

You know, it’s moments like these where I just let myself be fond of him. I let myself stare freely at him, admire the shape of his body, the sleek, smart make of his helmet, let myself wonder if his face is any bit as handsome as he sounds. Everything about him is rough. The way he fights, the way he bargains, the way he pilots. His hands. I think about the texture of his hands as I sit down. I remove my gloves and stuff them away, gliding my skin across my skin to just try and simulate that touch.

“You’re not cold?”

I untwine the bag from my shoulders, setting it down and retrieving our remaining food for this day. “I’m not cold. I have, like, five layers on.”

He eyes me doubtfully. “Okay.” And he sits down on the opposite side of the lamp, facing me, one leg propped up as a rest for his arm. The pulse rifle lays by his side, ready.

I offer him a hardening clump of bread and a few stout, odd-looking, white-and-purple vegetables (generously given to us by a farmer we passed a while back)—but Din shakes his head and urges me to eat as much as I can. I bite back a remark about that helmet of his – he must be starving.

“We’ll get something better to eat when we get to the city.”

I snort. “It’s hardly a city.”

“You know what I mean.”

Stupid Din always making stupid decisions and rationalising them because he thinks it’s for me. He knows I can take care of myself, that I’m good at it, but that doesn’t stop him from dropping everything to try. It’s nice for someone to have my back, for that someone to be as wonderful as him, but, holy kriff, he’s so stupid sometimes.

I tell him flat-out, “We don’t have enough credits,” because we don’t. We have barely enough to cover a scrappy, little ship. We definitely don’t have enough to purchase any food. We’ve relied on favours and luck for long enough, and we can go for longer until we’re off-planet. Peli’s got—edible food—probably. I don’t trust it won’t make me shit my brains out as soon as we’re in hyperspace, though.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, though. “We’ll get a worse ship.”

“Din.” Stupid. I toss him a chunk of bread, swivelling around to give him privacy.

He protests, “I’m not hungry,” and reaches over and taps it against my shoulder – I shrug him away.

“I’m already stuffed, so what’re you gonna do about it?”

He sighs in exasperation. “Thought you might say that.”

“‘Cause I’m just so predictable?”

“You’re stubborn.”

Snapping my head over my shoulder, I scoff and give him an incredulous look. “I’m stubborn?”

He tilts his head to the side as if to goad me further. “Yes.” The warm light of the lamp glows along the strong planes and clean lines of his armour. His hand leisurely dangling from his knee, he rubs his gloved fingers together, and I’m suddenly jealous of a clothing item. I know he must notice the slight catch in my breath.

I turn back around to face him, the sand moulding easily beneath my smooth movements. “And there’s not a brooding Mandalorian sitting across from me now, refusing to eat.”

The first few years of working with Din, I never once saw him eat or drink a thing. It was like he was a droid (don’t tell him I said that): always working, working hard, but fuelled by seemingly—nothing? Obviously, I figured he had to eat some time. When I became his partner, sharing the Razor Crest, he’d retreat to his bunk to eat. And when I asked him his favourite food, he said he didn’t really hate or love anything – as long as he could consume it and it wouldn’t kill him, he’d tolerate it. Over the years, though, I’ve learned he tries to steer clear from any kind of berries. Doesn’t trust ‘em. And he’s not a fan of fish, but the kid is, and I am, so we have it more often, now.

Din jerks his head and allows me to toss him one of those weird vegetables. Having already finished my chunk of bread (on the brink of mould—so yummy!), I take a large, eager bite right out of the vegetable. My mouth is flooded with its bitter juice, and I squint my face up a little at the greenish tang.

“How’s that taste?” he asks.

“Like dirt.” I chew the mouthful slowly, careful not to judge too quickly, and eventually hum in contentment. “But—” I retract, “—sorta sweet underneath. You ever tasted a beet?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s sorta like that.”

He watches me for a few heartbeats, calm in the steady, amber light. I smile at him.

“Turn around,” he tells me brusquely.

I wink at him and do as I’m told, shuffling around again and turning to back the blue and purple horizon, the lamp and his gaze warm on my back.

I’m silent as he unseals his helmet with a quiet click and hiss. I try to imagine him again. Every single time, I feel guilty over it, because I know how dedicated he is to his religion—but, oh, I can’t help myself. I run my tongue over my teeth, enjoying the remains of that bite, before taking another, crunching down into the flesh. As I do, I hear Din do the same. My heart stops a little in my chest, and I let out a slow breath.

“It’s nice.”

Stars. Stars, that voice. His voice, unfiltered by the modulator. Slightly hoarse from lack of water, scraping a little in his throat, but smooth in its low, rich tone. Like dirt you can sink your fingers right down into.

I set my hand flat on the sand my by side before pushing them vertically down, down, down, past the cooling surface and to where the glowing spirit of the day lingers.

Calm yourself down. It’s just a voice.

“You should have the rest of it,” he continues, and there’s the tap of the vegetable against my shoulder again.

Oh, stars. He hasn’t got his helmet on. He hasn’t got his helmet on. If I turned, he could be right there. Just him. I think about clamping my eyes shut to avoid the temptation of looking at him, but I can’t really co-ordinate myself at the moment. He taps again, encouraging me to take it back. My fingers hook up inside the sand, and it slips around me to my satisfaction.

“If you like it,” I say dryly, “you should eat it.”

The vegetable disappears from my peripheral. Another crunch, and another, and another. We sit in silence as he finishes it. The horizon is finally flat and unwavering in the cool of the night.

He gives my shoulder a squeeze when he’s done, hiking up the scarf around my head so it doesn’t slip too far over my hair. When I turn around, the helmet’s back on.

I wonder if he saw the colours of the sunset earlier. I had my head turned up for hours, watching every single shift in pink and orange and blue with wonderstruck eyes—but Din was striding on ahead, uninterested. I’m no engineer, alright? I don’t exactly know what he’s seeing in that helmet of his, or why. Infrared sensors for tracking, like in a rifle I once had that – that was one of the best damn weapons I ever owned, guaranteed to locate and hit your target, and I loved it to bits—until it got fuckin’ stolen by a bunch of fuckin’ Jawas. Point is, isn’t it just black and white in there? Sort of a purple-y black and white, and you can see changes in tone and depth and all, but black and white nonetheless. Red for footprints, though. Is that what he saw when I told him to look at the sky at sundown? Black and white? What is he seeing as he’s looking at me now? Me, I’m admiring the regal gleam of his beskar again. But he won’t be able to interpret the warmth of the lamp’s light on my face the same way as I did for him. I’m not the prettiest in the galaxy by a long shot, I know, but isn’t he missing out? On the beauty of the natural world? I think I’m prettiest at sundown – something in my undertone, I dunno – but he’s only seen me in that greyscale. Imagine if he just thinks I’m—okay-looking.

Overthinking it again. Din doesn’t waste time with things he doesn’t think add to his life. He doesn’t think I’m just okay-looking.

“You’ve got a good voice,” I tell him, grinning widely.

“You’ve heard my voice before.” The raw clarity of his words are lost once again behind the modulator. I shift my position, wriggling away from my disappointment.

“I know.”

A chill passes brightly through the air, and I tug my cloak tighter around myself, bringing my knees in close. Din doesn’t move a muscle, though, and he sits there and observes me a little longer.

We’ve been each other’s for a long, long time. We’ve been through a lot of shit together. And I’m not exactly thinking critically, and I’m not sure where I’m going with it, but I find myself asking, “When Mandalorians get married, they can take their helmets off around their partner, right?”

The mortification immediately sets in.

Holy kriff.

Din looks at me carefully. Then, he nods the slightest of nods.

Holy kriff.

“I’m not—” I stutter out, eyes darting away, over there, over here, anywhere but his constant, steady, shameless attention, “—‘m not asking you to marry me, Din. I was—I was just wondering ‘cause, y’know, I think you mentioned it to me once, ages back, and—and I was just thinkin’ that maybe—” you pause, glancing up at him; he doesn’t move a muscle, and there’s nothing that gives away any kind of anything he might be feeling, “—maybe I’d like to see—what—you—look—like.”

Wow. Wow, I’m almost amazed at how slick I am with these things. God, Imperial spies could learn a thing or two from the master.

I clear my throat, deciding to embrace the grave I’ve dug for myself. “But I’m not asking you to marry me, so you can stop looking at me like that, now, alright?.”

He says nothing, does nothing.

I situate myself with untying my waterskin from beneath my cloak, hiding my face in my shoulder and cursing, “Damn voice. Gets me too damn stupid-excited,” under my breath, like it’s a secret, like he can’t hear every fuckin’ word I’m saying on a planet seemingly stripped from all other noise.

Seething at myself, I crunch back into my vegetable, then tearing off a piece of bread to stuff in alongside it, taking a careless swig from my waterskin to wash it all down. Honestly, at this point, I’d rather die from dehydration than address the awful, awful statement I just made. Stars. Probably scared him right off. We’re as close to married as the real thing anyway. Din’s more of an actions-over-words kind of guy – I don’t need to call him my husband. It’s not like—well, marriage is companionship, and we have that already. Marriage is trust, and we have that already. I don’t need to call him my husband. He’s just—my guy. My person. Would be nice to have it on paper, I guess. Proof that he’s my person, that he wants to be my person. Bless him, but for every single thing he does for me, every action, I still crave him saying those words. Not shit to do with marriage, exactly. Just: “You’re my person. I’m yours.” Words aren’t his forte.

“I’d marry you.”

I swallow the hard lump of bread with difficulty, scrunching my face up into a grimace. “Hmm?” I ask, drifting back to the present.

“I’d marry you,” he repeats, and my eyes go wide. Oh. “Right here. If you want me.”

Huh. Huh. I dunno what the appropriate reaction is here, so I just continue staring unblinkingly at him. My stomach is erupting in flutters, and I just stare at Din.

Then, I look around us, at the barren desert. And look, yeah, I grew up on a planet very similar to Tatooine, and, yeah, sure, I have fond memories of my childhood. And then they get not-so fond. I scrunch my nose up in disapproval. “Not here.”

“Where?”

I shrug, brows knitted together in deep consideration. “I dunno.” And I really don’t, because—because I didn’t think we were the marrying type. Just the together type. Growing old and pissy together, living together, fighting together, figuring it out together—type. Mandalorians value community and strength and The Way over everything else – not necessarily love. Didn’t take him for the marrying type.

I screw my mouth together and exhale deeply. “Just somewhere prettier, I guess,” I decide on. “Not this quiet, but still pretty quiet. Y’know, somewhere with trees. Proper, green trees. But not the kind where there’s stuff in there waiting to kill you.” I want there to be as many colours as possible, in the sky, in the flowers, so he can see me and see all that beauty all together at once.

He tilts his head. “Like, with mountains?” he asks.

I smile. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind mountains.”

He glances down at the sand, tracing some kind of pattern into it with his forefinger. “We could go to Takodana?”

Stars. My smile widens. Stars, is this a proposal? Did I just propose to him? Did he just propose right back? That’s actually quite funny, that is. In the middle of nowhere, running out of water, running low on food. Romantic.

“Have you ever kissed anyone, Din?” I ask, more confident.

He grunts and shakes his head. “Not really.”

“‘Not really’,” I mock him, deepening my voice and attempting to widen the shoulders. I laugh at my own impression, leaning back on my hands and huffing a strand of hair out of my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shifts, clearing his throat and adjusting to a more comfortable position. “I mean, I’ve kissed you—between your legs,” he tells me, nervous, like I’ve managed to forget how well he treats me, how eager he is to kneel down in the pitch-black and take care of me like that.

Heat blooms in my stomach. “Great work down there, by the way,” I tell him through a sly grin.

“Thank you, mesh’la.” Is he blushing? Does he blush? I find myself wondering over that again.

I smile and stare at him.

“Could I kiss you?” The suggestion just slips out without a second thought. I just think that, after some food and water and rest, I don’t really have to filter anything out anymore. I don’t have any complaints – just some recommendations for fun we could be having.

Din doesn’t reply.

Ah, shit. Shit, what the fuck is wrong with me? Mandalorian, remember? Stupid, stupid. If there’s anything anyone knows about Din, it’s that he’s a Mandalorian first. He’s a Mandalorian before he’s mine – he’d never say it out loud, but we both know it’s true. I’d never ask him to choose because that’s cruel. Am I being cruel?

Either way, I can’t seem to stop, and I don’t seem to care: “I’d keep my eyes shut,” I blurt out, trying to keep my breathing from becoming heavy with lust, and failing a little more than a little bit. Stars, I’m turning myself on at this point; he just has to sit there and look pretty. “You know I’d keep ‘em shut. I wouldn’t look. I just—wanna—” you sigh, “—I just wanna kiss you. It’s nice, I swear. Nice feeling. I’d keep my eyes closed. Or—or you could tie something around ‘em?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Stars,” I curse. “I’m sorry.” I wipe my eyes from dust and dirt and blink hard. “I think I’m just tired.”

“You’re tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Is ‘tired’ why you’re pressing onto yourself down there?”

He flicks his fingers over to where I’ve got my hand stuffed between my legs, rocking softly against the heel of my palm. I swallow hard. Fuck, I didn’t even notice I was doing that. I convinced myself I was—ha!—I was just warming up my hands.

I shift my eyes sheepishly back up to meet Din’s, guilty as charged.

He sighs deep from within the chest. “You keep ‘em closed and we tie something around ‘em.”

Silent, I nod in agreement. My thighs squeeze together.

He jerks his head to beckon me over, and I go shuffling on over to him on my knees, probably looking like a right idiot, but, then again, I don’t really give a fuck because I’m about to kiss Din Djarin. I’m about to kiss my Mandalorian. I’m about to kiss my companion of almost a decade, more if you count all those shady bounties we used to end up competing for. My Mandalorian, my Din Djarin, mine, mine, mine. I’m not possessive, I don’t think, but, gods, I—I—I can’t believe it sometimes. That I get to know him like this. That I get to know such an incredible person. That he won’t say more than two words at a time to anyone, not even those we’re close with, like Peli—but, with me, he’ll talk for hours. He jokes that he’s just humouring me, but I know he loves it. He tells me so.

Din makes a motion with his hand to turn around, so I do, and I let him tie an old, folded food cloth around my head – unsanitary, sure, but, again, I don’t care, and my head’s reeling, and my heart’s racing so hard, thrumming in my ears, and he’s so close, and his fingers are tangling through my hair as he lowers my scarf, and they’re brushing against the nape of my neck now, and—

“Can you take your gloves off, Din?” I ask, and, unfortunately, the neediness seeps right through my voice. “Please?” Stars, I’m pathetic.

Behind me, there’s the shuffle and quiet groan of leather as he tugs them off, and then a quiet pat! as he tosses them to the side.

And then his hands are back. Rough, calloused fingertips ghosting over my ears, my hair, as he knots the cloth, then knots it again for good measure. Darkness is closed over my eyes, tinged the rich green of the fabric. My breath seems nearer this way, short, shallow, hot. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, still, as he cups the back of my neck, his touch cool.

I reach over my shoulder, taking a deep inhale as I run my fingers over the dips and hills of his knuckles. I fold my hands over his and squeeze, bringing them forward and kissing his fingertips gently. I feel the texture and thickness of his fingers, trace the lines of his palm. Din comes in close behind me, the solidity of his chestplate (cuirass? I dunno, once, he got all pissy ‘cause I didn’t call by it’s actual name) pressing up against my shoulder blades.

I smooth my thumbs along the deepest crease in his palm. “Y’know, once, before I met you, I met someone who told me he could foretell my whole life, and my child’s life, and their child’s life, just from the lines on my hands.”

“Oh, yeah?” His voice is right in my ear, low and intimate. Maker. “What do mine say?”

“All good things,” you reply shakily.

“Anything about Takodana?”

He twists his hand over, enveloping my right and rubbing circles into the back of it.

Then, he’s letting me go, leaning away—and there’s that hiss and click of him removing his helmet. I blink against the green cloth, my eyelashes dragging up slowly. If I hold my breath, I can hear him breathing.

“Turn around,” he tells me, and I do.

It’s too dark for silhouettes anymore. If we were in daylight again, maybe I could’ve seen the vaguest outline of him. But we’re not in daylight. I blink again against the cloth, hard.

His hands reach out and grasp my hips, and they’re warm and large and I never get used to it. The breath is still knocked out of my chest. He angles and adjusts me to face him, and I place my hands on his shoulders, fumbling around his armour before settling them instead on his neck.

His neck. Bare skin. I smooth my hand up the column of his pretty, perfect neck, feeling every inch of him. I already know the texture of his hair. When he’s between my legs and kissing me there, I like to thread my fingers through it. It’s thick and wavy and slightly too long. But otherwise, I keep my hands to myself. Even though I’m not technically seeing him in the dark when he takes his helmet off to taste me, I don’t reach out and touch his face—because it’s his. It’s his, and he’s taken an oath to keep it that way. He’s never initiated a kiss, so I’ve never asked. I’ve been content. I’ve been patient.

But I guess my patience has reached a limit. Slowly, tentatively, I drift my touch up, up, and feel along his jawline, coarse with longer scruff. His breath hitches, and I smile and continue. I smooth my fingers right along his cheekbone – Din gently circles his hand around my wrist, pressing his nose into my palm, then kissing it, soft, careful, dragging the tip of his nose along the line of the vein that trails over my arm.

Stars.

I blink hard again behind the green cloth, clenching my jaw down till my teeth grit together.

I feel along the jagged bridge of his nose, take note of how it’s slightly crooked to the right, like he’s broken it before (wouldn’t surprise me). I learn the shape of his brow, the broadness of his forehead. I feel the feather-light brush of his eyelashes against my wrist. I’m silent—and I’m grinning like an idiot, because what else can I do? It’s like I’m seeing his face. I’m not, but it’s sure as hell the closest thing. The weight of his head in my hands, the cautious squeeze of his hands on my arms. I whisper some kind of babbling, incoherent request, and he relaxes his eyes – I can feel the muscles in his face release tension – for me to trace my middle finger over the shape of his eye. I’m not crying, but, fuck, it’s getting a little moist up in this blindfold.

His eyes droop down slightly at the ends. I like eyes like that – kind eyes. My mother used to say these types of eyes only belonged to the kindest of people. Stars. Don’t cry.

“You look insane, mesh’la,” he whispers, close to me, lifting his hands to tenderly hold my face, like I might break.

“Ah, bantha shit, baby,” I retort. “You’re loving this.”

And I can feel him smile. I can feel it crinkle up the sides of his eyes, and I can feel the squint of them, and the way his cheeks lift. He smiles a little lop-sidedly, actually, the left corner of his mouth just a touch higher than the right. I try to memorise every single bit of information I discover, as urgent and as desperate as if my life depended upon it.

Quivering with want, I press my lips to the inner corner of his eye, firm and sure and needy, my hands grasping around his face. Din grabs fistfuls of my cloak, bringing me nearer to him.

He smells like dust and tastes like sweat and salt, but, Maker, this is good. Satisfies some deep, hellacious ache that would have otherwise consumed me.

I kiss the ridge of his cheekbone with the same fervour, and then I kiss the corner of his mouth, the left side, the side that quirks up when he smiles.

Only, he’s not really smiling right now. He’s breathing heavily, almost panting, and stroking my hair away from my face and neck before mumbling out, “So pretty.” I press my nose against his, breathless with anticipation, heady at the warmth of his body. “S’good. You look so good—like this. Y’look good all the time—”

But I’m kissing him already, frantic, fingers pressing into the back of his neck, into his shoulders, bringing him as near to me as humanly possible. I sob dryly as he reciprocates, nudging his nose flat against my cheek. He opens his mouth to suck in a breath, and I lick into him, taste him deeply, practically having climbed into his lap during my whirlwind pursuit. His cold hands slip under my cloak, arms wrapping around me in a second.

The kiss is dry and rough, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It seems befitting of him somehow.

And when he makes a pathetic sound, a whimper or something, at the back of his throat, I almost melt right into the ground.

Closer, closer, closer – that’s all I can really comprehend at the moment. Even with our bodies slotted together, even though I can feel each shaky breath he takes as his stomach flexes over my own, I feel hungry for more. It’s Din. My Din, kissing me, his hands on me, his eyes on me. My Din, grunting into me as I shift in his lap and squeeze my legs around him. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine—

He grabs my face gently by the chin, urging me away from him for a few moments. I sit there, blind, his open mouth still hovering over mine. Oh, stars, I think of the softness of his tongue, and I kiss the corner of his mouth, wanting, asking.

Din angles my face to the side, coming in slow, warm, and languidly slides his tongue into my hot mouth, breath fanning out across my glowing face. Maker. I can’t control myself – a helpless noise passes through me as I take it good and kiss him back, eager, wide open.

I guide his hand down the the base of my throat, just to feel his touch somewhere else. He squeezes there lightly.

His other hand manages to snake under my shirt, pressing flat across the small of my back, sliding up my spine and sending shivers all the way right through me.

It’s—good. Really good. Can’t-open-my-eyes-for-a-good-few-heartbeats type of good.

“Maker,” he curses hoarsely under his breath as I pull away, still leaning forward for me, chasing my touch.

“Good?” I ask him.

He presses a kiss to my cheek, smiling. “We can do this—more often—‘f you want.”

“If I want, huh?”

He kisses me deeply again, his thumb slotted beneath the cloth over my eyes. He pulls it taut to the side over so slightly, and I can make out that beautiful, warm glow over the sand and his armour again. I shut my eyes as he tilts my head up, though, as kisses down to the hollow of my throat and back up again.

I slide my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?” I just know it. Everything about him is just beautiful. It’s just lovely, and I love it.

“Marry me and you can find out for sure,” he mumbles into my neck.

I can hardly hear him, of course – blood is pounding so hard in my ears that all I can understand from his words are that they rumble deep right through his chest, warm under the cool beskar.

I lift his head and press my nose into his cheek. “I can tell,” I continue, words brushing his lips. Again, I smooth my fingers over his face. “You’re so pretty, Din.”

“Marry me,” he urges, whispering against the fabric over my eye, warm.

I grin. “Later.”

He curses, something in Mando’a. “We’re going to Takodana as soon as we get that damn ship, you hear me?”

[neondiamond]

🪩 Recently Read Fics - July 2023 🪩

These are all the amazing fics I read over the past month (from shortest to longest). Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show the authors your appreciation if you read any of these! 💛

🪩 I’ll Get You Through by @hellolovers13 (1k, G)

Louis will always pick up when Harry calls.

Always.

🪩 a life that’s lived without you by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (1k, T)

In all of his 116 years, Zayn has never quite felt this way about anyone. Liam is so incredibly human, in the worst and best ways. He’s fragile, even when he pretends not to be. He’s soft and kind, clumsy at times. He’s strong and full of life, full of love even when people around him give him cause to be anything but.

He’s sunshine and happiness and Zayn watches because he can’t not be drawn to him, to this boy that personifies those things that he has been missing out on for over a century.

🪩 rain makes the flowers grow by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (1k, G)

Some people are able to hide it. The way they’re feeling.

This boy at Harry’s work is not one of them.

He’s the boy with his head in the clouds.

🪩 Yours and Mine by @allwaswell16 (1k, T)

Louis goes to the library with his favourite people, his boyfriend Harry and his son, Max.

A Bitter Ends Turns Sweet timestamp

🪩 Everything Is Batter With You by @red-pandaaa (2k, T)

Harry comes across a fun baking TikTok and convinces Louis to do it

🪩 In Time by @allwaswell16 (2k, M)

Harry's uncertainty about their relationship began before he ever stepped foot on the plane to Amsterdam.

A prequel/timestamp to the fic Bitter Ends Turn Sweet

🪩 Timeless by @babyhoneyheslt (3k, G)

After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.

🪩 Take Me To Another World by @babyhoneyheslt (5k, G)

After escaping from the neighbouring kingdom, Harry finds himself on land for the first time. Despite knowing he should go back home, he lets his curiosity get the better of him.

When a mishap with discovering socks happens, he meets Louis who takes him out for coffee, and finds that Louis doesn’t quite meet the stereotype of humans.

🪩 On That Note by @allwaswell16 (6k, E)

Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.

🪩 I Want You to Linger by @insightfulinsomniac (7k, E)

A friends-to-lovers fic in which oblivious alpha Louis courts his best friend, nests with the gifts he gets him, and is faced with the reality that sometimes telling someone you love them doesn’t go to plan (but turns out better in the end anyway).

🪩 Blue Moon by @pocketsunshineharry (20k, G)

What happens when Louis moves away from the busy city life to a small village in the middle of nowhere and meets Harry, the sweetest and most understanding Alpha?

Will Harry be able to get Louis' walls down? Will he be able to adjust to the slower pace of life in the village and open up to Harry's love? As they navigate their new relationship, will they be able to overcome the obstacles from Louis’ past?

🪩 Paint a Rainbow Inside My Heart by @cyantific (22k, T)

A story about hiding in plain sight and the journey to revealing your truth, told in six acts.

Or, the five times Harry queer coded with actions, behaviors or clothing and the one time he was too proud to hide anymore.

🪩 ‘cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense (26k, NR)

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

[hankwritten]

Words That Taste Bad in Your Ears

Zhanna/Scout, 1k

Saturday (July 8) : Spicy | Savory | Sweet

“We need car,” Heavy said when they landed in the middling Australian town barely propped up by the minuscule airport.

“We are here to find transportation,” Heavy reminded forty-five minutes later.

“We,” he grit out, emphasis on every syllable as Zhanna and Scout pressed their faces to a glass display case containing children’s toys—ooing and aaing as if they were children themselves—“come to village. For car.”

“Relax Big Guy,” Scout waved away, not taking his eyes off as a wooden cutout with mechanical limbs fired an unsettlingly detailed toy rifle, causing a 2D wooden kangaroo across the display to fall flat, “won’t kill you to slow down a goddamn sec.”

“These words. They come out of little Scout’s mouth. Are you even listening?”

“Mm hmm…”

“Scout! Tell Heavy to slow!”

“Yeah…” Scout still hadn’t taken his eyes off the display, watching as the toy hunter and toy kangaroo reset themselves with clicking precision.

“Chatterjay is right,” Zhanna, exposed to The Worst of Heavy’s coworkers and now traitorous and unhelpful, said. “Misha rushes us.”

“We are in rush.”

“If someone has not come and taken all the metal by now, a few hours extra hours will not make.”

“<Zhanna,>” Heavy said, switching to a language that could properly capture his annoyance. “<We came to do a job! We aren’t here to be tourists, to go sprinting about some no where town in the dry and the heat just to gawk at all the stupid things the Australians have come up with. I Are you doing this just to aggravate me?>”

“<Not everything I do is about you, Misha,>” Zhanna shot right back, straightening up from the glass display and nearing his high with a glare. “<Have you ever thought that maybe I want to go look at things that aren’t an endless icy expanse? That maybe your sister wants to live a little for the first time in twenty years?>”

“<Our family keeps our word. When we say we’ll do a job, we’ll do it.>”

“<That is what you do. And you’ve applied it to the rest of us without proof.>” Zhanna puffed up. “<We’ll go to the big rock when we’re good and ready. And if that little purple woman is cranky, well then she can just go cry about it.>”

“Yeah!” Scout said, puffing up beside her. “No idea what my girlfriend just said, but she sounded pissed at you and I support her wholeheartedly. Screw you Heavy!”

Zhanna, for whatever reason, thought this was very funny. “Screw you!” she repeated.

“Screw you!”

They echoed this back and forth a few times until Heavy had had quite a enough, marching off down the street to find suitable transportation on his own. His two—supposed—mission-mates kept laughing, Zhanna so hard she squeezed Scout in a sidehug that lifted him off the ground.

Still, through the oxygen throttling show of expression, he managed to throw out one last, “Screw- gak! –you…”

“Love you little chatterjay. Such a way with words.”

“…Thanks…*wheeze*…babe…”

*

Heavy’s solo expedition did not pan out as well as he had hoped. This was not how he would have split the Team had he been in charge, though at first he was relieved he could keep an eye on Zhanna a bit longer; she was the eldest of his sisters, but age did not translate to wisdom, and it often seemed she sought out trouble on purpose. Trouble like Scout for instance. Probably the worst man she could have chosen to suddenly fling her first ever affections on, Scout took her sudden interest in stride, and was in no way disturbed when they had calcified into this unshakeable loyalty. Zhanna had decided what she liked, and what she liked was this annoying little toothpick who wouldn’t shut up.

How he hoped Bronislava and Yana were getting into less trouble. He’d sheltered them out of love yet…

Yet he had to admit many of his decisions weren’t always the best ones. The quest for a rental car for instance. The last three Australians he spoke to insisted on arm wrestling him before doling out any quest information, and when he handily beat them it turned out most of their advice were things like, “Don’t know about that, maybe go ask Marsha up the road?” In the end Heavy was fed up that he started refusing ‘brawls’ all together, which only further decreased his success rate.

When he finally trudged himself into the town’s largest diner, he was less than pleased to run into Scout and Zhanna there, still dragging their feet.

“And in the states,” Scout was saying, “chicken comes in buckets. It’s great. I don’t know why but having chicken in a bucket is just so much better than regular chicken- you know I even have this chicken costume they let me have for free when the TFC—Teufort Fried Chicken—place was closing down. They just threw it away! Okay so they didn’t let me have it for free, I had to go out to the back and fish it out of the dumpster, but it was worth it because they’d had a guy wearing that mascot costume for thirty years before they closed down—thirty year old grease stains on the inside! Can you believe it!—but then the Italian place across the street ran them out of business.”

“Mm…” Zhanna said, chin resting in hands as she watched him across a plate of friend chicken.

“So instead of being a mascot, it’s now a mas-scout! Get it? Ha! I crack myself up.”

“Yes. Cracked like chicken egg. Scout is done talking now though, and will go back to putting showing me ‘real cuisine’.”

“Huh? Oh! Oh right, yeah.”

So Scout picked up a chicken wing, and leaned forward. Zhanna took a rip out of the flesh, then proceeded to lick the savory grease off Scout’s fingers. The two did break eye contact during this.

Heavy sat down beside them with a mild noise of disgust.

“Brother! Finally done wandering around?” Zhanna wiped the grease off her mouth with her sleeve. Scout watched her do this adoringly.

“Heavy,” Heavy grit, “was looking for car. To get us out of this place.”

“A ride? Ha! We already found one, dummy,” Scout said.

“What?” Heavy said. “When?”

“While you were out moping. C’mon, it’s out back.”

Heavy was left to be the one to throw bills on the table. This annoyed him. And then, annoyance didn’t even begin to cover what he felt when he walked to the back of the diner and found, not a car, but a scooter with a sidecar attached.

“This will not make five kilometers,” Heavy said doubtfully.

“Sure it will! The chick who sold it said it ‘outrun a pack of thirty dingoes, all while you’re transporting live feral wombats’.”

“Implication was that would be fighting wombats, while dingoes are chasing,” Zhanna nodded helpfully.

“…Fine,” Heavy said, walking toward the vehicle. “As long was we are leaving.”

But before he could even touch the thing Scout barked, “Nope! I’m driving, chucklenut.”

“What?” Heavy demanded.

“Sorry man, way it’s gotta be. I’m driving, Zhanna’s riding bitch, and you-” Scout paused, wiggled his finger in a circle, and papped it against Heavy’s chest, “-get the baby carriage.”

“Scout is not serious.”

“He is,” Zhanna nodded solemnly, “I will be riding this bitch all the way to big rock.”

She used one arm to squeeze Scout around the shoulders, who promptly turned bright ride. Heavy got in the sidecar. It was the only place he could effectively turn around, and not have to look at them anymore. Better alone in the hack for the entire rest of the trip than to spend one extra minute than he had to with them.

He would have words for Pauling when this was all done.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Devil in the Details (DLC edition)

Daughters:

Jack, I've put our guest to bed in the trailer. (I told her she could have the old bedroom, but she insisted…)

Marguerite

Mia trying to isolate herself incase contact with her would expose the Bakers to infection... I think it might have done actually considering how quickly it snowballed in daughters and the infection coming and going in waves (they were fighting it)

To the Baker Family,

Thank you for saving my life. But please forget all about me.

Mia tells Ethan and the Bakers to forget about her. And she forgot herself really

I was assigned to transport some important cargo on that ship. Getting involved with me, or that cargo, can only cause trouble for your family. Big trouble.

Please don't contact the police or state authorities. Just pretend we never met.

few reasons for this warning: one is because the police and state authorities would be woefully unprepared. two the connections would catch up a bit quicker (maybe the connections were monitoring missing persons cases along the route?) and take Evie back or outright kill her and Mia

And… you saved me, so take this advice in return. If you see a girl near the ship who looks about ten years old, DO NOT approach her.

I would have put this sooner to be honest. And another thank you. One good turn deserves another.

If she talks to you, get away as quickly as you can. Just try not to make her angry in the process. If you've been feeling ill at all, then I'm afraid the worst may already have happened.

It's a fate worse than death, and it can't be cured at a hospital. I'm so sorry.

of course the people infected lose all form of self just wanting to please whoever infected them

There is a way to stop it, though. Serum. If you inje stop the symp

as we know from the reports in the salt mine the serum Mia is referring to would not work. But maybe hope would be enough to keep them sane (it was for Zoe the only one to read the letter)

and the ending is because Evie caught up and interfered

Bedroom: (i love the start where Clancy gets told by Margurite that Evie wants him to be her big brother just the big ass ?????)

Jack's Journal fragment (I want to say this diary entry is from 2015 or 2016 we don't know but I think 2016)

Jan. 24 Marguerite's on the warpath again.

I can handle her when she's yelling–it's when she gets all quiet that you gotta watch out. At that point, you say one word and she flies off the handle. Nothing for it but to wait.

as someone who has gotten jumped on by Margurite without hearing her and dying during Ethan must die yeah sounds about right

Margurite is the angry one with a short fuse acknowledgment something

Jan. 28 Goddamn Zoe. All Marguerite did was yell at her some, and Zoe went and pointed a knife at her.

Just pulled it right from the dresser! Who knows where else she may be hiding them.

I better check everything in the house, just in case.

What am I gonna do with that girl? It's like she doesn't appreciate a loving family.

Zoe showing some sign of infection and being scared of her family

hi Evie and her ideal

Not A Hero

Operation "Lurking Fear"

Primary Mission Extract Lucas baker

Location Dulvey, Louisiana, USA Baker estate

Threat Profile ·"Molded": Alpha variant, others ·Anti-personnel traps (lethal and non)

Notes: Due to the lack of intelligence and the number of unknown factors involved, Chris Redfield of the BSAA wll act as a bioweapons specialist on missions.

they have some intelligence (I wonder who they got it from) but not a lot

so they send in the luckiest (and unluckiest if you have to rely on him unless your name is Jill, Claire or Sheva) and most experienced man they have

LOCATION UPDATE:: Recent intel has confirmed that Lucas Baker s holed up in the mines near the Baker estate.

Profile - Lucas Baker: Suspected associate of criminal organization The Connections (role unconfirmed). Holds vital intel regarding said organization.

they need info and Lucas is the best one for it at this point

Profile - The Connections: Criminal organization producing bioweapons for sale on the international black market. Limited intel on size, market share, and members. They are the prime suspects implicated in the production and distribution of the E-Series bioweapon. E-Series model "Eveline" is present and active at the Baker estate. Lucas Baker seems to be monitoring her and reporting on her activities.

Limited: meaning small in amount or number. so they have a small idea of how big the organisation is, how much they're worth (market share meaning: the percentage of the market for a product or service that a company supplies) and how many members it has

prime suspects. Prime meaning most important, suspect to believe something to be probable. to me this reads as the connections not being the only group experimenting the with mold

Letter from Blue Umbrella

For many of you this is your first mission with us, so we wanted to make it clear what Umbrella is all about.

Though many of our staff hail from the infamous pharmaceutical giant Umbrella, our purpose is to make amends for the atrocities perpetrated under the Umbrella name. That is why we re-incorporated as a PMC in 2007.

We will put a stop to not only anyone who is engineering or selling bioweapons, but those who support those efforts as well.

We made a mess and now we have to clean it up. By keeping the Umbrella name, we show that we take responsibility for that mess and we want you to remember that you carry this responsibility with you in every mission

thank you game developers for including Graves Diary and the Scientists dying message in RE3R. Umbrella collapsed in 2004

Eveline Observation Log

E-001 Log - July 22, 2016

Health: Good Mental State: Good Mutamycete Secretion: Normal Other: n/a

Not much change. She just plays with dolls all day. Turned two guys Molded today.

why do these records start in July 2016 when Lucas has been cured since 2015 (lmao that's today I'm writing this)

what change was the writer looking for

bit of normalacy for Evie. those guys were turned into the white molded possibly (i say this because the white molded have more human like heads and have human organs. but it could be either)

E-001 Log - August 12, 2016

Health: Coughing, exhaustion Mental State: Slightly stressed Mutamycete Secretion: More than usual Other: n/a

After playing ball with dad, she started complaining about being tired. Turned one guy into a Fat Molded.

self explanatory

begining of Evie's decline and another moment of normalacy (I wonder what Jack thought of this and I wonder if Margurite was involved at points as well)

it depends on the individual on what turns into what

E-001 Log - August 26, 2016

Health: Bad Mental State: Stressed Mutamycete Secretion: High Other: Sudden aging

She's aging all of a sudden: losing weight, hair falling out, the works. The more she screams, the more she vomits. Basement's heavily contaminated. No apparent cause for the aging. Gonna ask for further instructions

poor Evie.

the basement in the main house obviously and then got moved to the proper lab in the mines

E-001 Log - September 9, 2016

Health: Weak but stable Mental State: Delusional, incoherent Mutamycete Secretion: Stable Other: n/a

Aging has slowed, seems pretty stable. Got the E-Necrotoxin from the company. Orders are to use it "if she gets out of control." And I thought I was the funny one.

the connections have no desire to salvage Evie after they got her data from an entirely new environment (not quite real world but close enough) Lucas wants to keep going until she dies (?)

Researchers Journal

June 11, 2017 I'm sick of this guy Lucas. They just gave him my job as lead researcher.

Who do they think I am? Why do I - a Stanford graduate with a master's in microbiology - have to work under this lunatic? All he does is mess around with the test subjects-making them all fight each other and doing unnecessary autopsies. He's sick. He knows nothing about the E-series mutamycete's potential. I'm going to report his behavior at the next meeting with HQ.

that makes the time frame interesting as he was in charge for a month (ish)

what the fuck did Lucas do to get promoted to lead reseacher?

Lucas is a little like Alex Wesker and that is not a compliment

as for the potential Lucas wants to see how far it can go we don't know anything about these guys

Lucas Journal

I killed off all the Connections' researchers.

They were poking around where they weren't supposed to when I wasn't looking, but I knew exactly what they were up to. Probably didn't like having to report to me.

So, I thew them in a cage with some Molded. They shit their pants and begged for their lives. I'm just worried I won't be able to hold back from laughing when I make the report that they met with an unfortunate accident.

Probably a good time now to cut ties with The Connections. I'm the only one who can really make good use of Eveline's mold.

I wonder what exactly the other researchers were looking for

considering Lucas is aware of our movements as Ethan and as Chris (turning all the traps in the green shutter)

Lucas is terrible

What was his exit strategy? And here it is the reason why he betrayed them in the first place

Email Log:

Sent: Thursday, July 20, 2017 10:22 AM

Things got a little out of hand, but I took care of it. I'm sending the E data now. It shouldn't take long.

After it goes through, I'm outta hetw;j

Umbrella and Chris

I wonder if he was planning on destroying the lab

Note on the Wall

Buyer for E data? → Got one -Get set up for transmission

still don't know who he was talking to

End of Zoe

Orders are as follows, effective immediately:

The mutamycete is on the loose in the swamp, and it'll keep mutating as it encounters new organisms. We can't allow the stock of medicine compounds to be exposed-if they suffer a mutation they'll be useless.

Transfer the whole anti-infective synthesizing station over to the paddle boat.

these are a bit better then what the connections were dealing with but still able to become useless if not careful

Analysis Report

We've finished analyzing the tissue samples believed to be from Jack Baker.

The cells exhibit an extraordinary resilience to physical and chemical damage; the E-Series mutamycete secretes a telomerase-like enzyme through the cell wall, causing abnormal activation of the ERK pathway to achieve forced cell division-quickly regenerating damaged tissue.

However, the repeated cell division quickly leads to breakdown in the intercellular structure, leading to the sloughing, slurry-like effect we've observed in the collected tissue samples. Our working hypothesis puts this down to the cells reaching their Hayflick limit.

Note that the samples from the other family members (the wife Marguerite, the son Lucas, and the daughter Zoe) do not exhibit the same extreme regenerative properties. The symptoms may differ from subject to subject. Further study required.

The Hayflick Limit is a real thing

how did they get the samples? what are the samples with Lucas and Marguerite its obvious as they're both dead. But what did they get from Zoe just some hair and/or dead skin? probably it had to be something of a size to be able to test how it regenerates and how can they tell what is regenerating? I wonder what else they learn from Zoe after she gets checked up? (did they take samples from Mia and Ethan? probably. I wonder what they found)

confirmation of what we know (report in salt mine)

[darth-caillic]

Just infodump about Sam to me <3 Literally anything

I love Sam. I just think he's so neat. I think I'll talk about some of his relationships with canon characters.

I like how when Sam starts crushing on the Doctor, it's less of a schoolboy crush and more like "I wanna put this guy under a microscope", and it's such a surprise to him when the crush starts developing into romantic love. And even Sam doesn't completely understand how and when it happened (spoilers it sparked at the end of Gridlock when the Doctor is telling Martha, Maisie and Sam about Gallifrey).

Sam and the Doctor are such an enigma as a couple. The Doctor is pretty much the opposite of the type of person Sam has gone for in the past. Maisie points out several times how funny she finds it cuz she didn't think the Doctor would be Sam's type at all. But Sam can't help it. He just loves that look the Doctor gets when he's excitingly explaining something and the overexaggerated gestures he makes.

I love the eventual friendship he develops with Donna. One of their favourite pastimes is lowkey bullying the Doctor (in a loving way, you know). I have this idea for Silence in the Library where when the Doctor tries to transport the two of them back to the TARDIS, their consciousness get glitched together. Causing this deep look into each other's psyches. They start to understand each other's loves, dreams, fears, and anxieties on a metaphysical level (is that the right word? *shrugs*). It would also be how Donna unwittingly finds out about John Smith, and how Sam is still haunted by what happened with him. Least to say, Donna is totally gutted when she finds out.

It makes Donna's ending hurt even more. Like can you imagine having a friend that understands you on so many possible levels. Someone who understands what it's like travelling with the Doctor and all the baggage that can come with it, and then that friend is forced to forget.

And then there's the Master! The current version of the story outline has Sam leaving the TARDIS after the events of Family of Blood. The Master finds out about Sam and his connections to the Doctor, and Sam is forced into a situation where he works for "Harold Saxon". So for a full year before the events of last of the time lords Sam basically has no choice but to endure working for the Master so his family isn't killed or worse.

What would be the best way to describe their relationship? The Master would definitely have a curious obsession with Sam because he basically hears how the Doctor talks about Sam during Utopia and wonders, "who is the person that has the Doctor so 'enamoured' and how can I use this to my advantage?"

Sam, on the other hand, has never felt true hatred for anything until he met the Master. Sure, he's felt fear toward something like Daleks or Cybermen, he's been angry/felt disdain at horrible people, and he even thought he hated the Doctor at some point, but it was nothing compared to the pure vitriol he had against the Master. And the worst part is: That's exactly how the Master wants Sam to feel about him.

Like you know that one bit in Undertale where you have the option to kill Flowey and if you do it, he just laughs at you. Taking away any satisfaction you could have gotten from killing him? Sam has a similar option. He has the opportunity to kill the Master at the end of season 3. He doesn't go through with it, but if he did-

-That would be exactly what the Master wants.

[miras-ash]

Chapter 7 of "Just as the stars love the night"

Mira's pov

After Kali had told me everything about how she had been contacted by an anonymous person who had offered her to continue to deal with Rainbow she had accepted the invitation and had to find out who was behind it all, suddenly a lot of things made sense to me. I still didn't know who Deimos was, I just knew he was going to pay. All this time Eliza was with him, at his mercy, probably waiting for someone to rescue her. Had I failed? Should I not have given up so quickly?

Maybe it was crazy to trust Kali and Nighthaven like that but I had no choice and as she said she didn't need to make up something like that.

While we were still on the plane and flying to Nighthaven Base, we contacted the rest of her squad and held an emergency conference with Osa who would then inform and prepare the others, we had to hurry. The longer we took the more suspicion Deimos would have, Kali could buy herself just 24 hours to get back to him, before that we had to somehow manage to infiltrate his ship, get Eliza and catch him. If we missed the window, everyone was in danger.

"Round up the whole gang, even those who are on vacation or whatever, we need everyone! Also, please pull Grimm off the whole Nokk thing and if he has a problem about it, he has a problem with me. We no longer have a dispute with Rainbow. We have a new common enemy and if we do nothing it could mean the end of us all. Nevertheless, our top priority is to rescue Operator Eliza "Ash" Cohen."

At this, Kali looked at me for a moment, considered for a moment, and then turned to Osa again.

"Kick Ace's ass, tell him to get his act together. I need him and preferably Finka on a team along with Mira. The three of them will serve as an extraction squad to carry out the Scourge rescue. He will be responsible for the initial medical care. I'll leave the rest to you, it's best to always put together teams of 4-5 people. Kali over."

I felt transported back years, back when I was still in Spain and had worked for the police. We had some scourge takings and always I could avoid the worst but now it was not "just" a civilian, it was about a person I love, someone who was everything to me. I had to be fully focused on this, it was the most important mission of my life, failure was not an option.

Apart from that there was another problem, I was not allowed to serve another unit without reasonable agreement between our superiors that could bring me big problems especially Jordan and I didn't want that, for his sake.

"Kali, I think we'll have to see about me joining you in the field later. If we pull this off, they won't care up there why we were there. You guys are a private military service but I'm causing big problems back home with this."

She looked up from her laptop and nodded in affirmation.

"I've already taken care of that, I've drawn up a temporary contract for two years that recruits you to Nighthaven. There's no other way, but this way we can prevent any further inconvenience."

Briefly I had misgivings, but when I thought about it being all about Eliza it was absolutely worth it.

A few hours later we finally arrived. Immediately heading inside the base to get ready. I changed clothes, familiarized myself with a weapon and equipment issued by Nighthaven and followed the others to the assembly point. I was so happy when I saw Finka, not that I felt uncomfortable but it was nice to see a familiar face. I just wished it was a nicer occasion than this. Finka hugged me briefly and Ace gave me his hand, his face strangely serious. I didn't know him like that. No trace of the otherwise so terribly silly and conceited asshole he usually was. Obviously he was good for something in an emergency.

We were briefed on the rest of the plan. While the three of us would just take care of Eliza another small group would gather data that could be useful and the rest would comb the ship looking for Deimos.

Two large stealth helicopters were standing by to take us to our destination.

On the way there it was very quiet, only now and then you heard small snippets of conversation or radio messages. The closer we got to our destination the more nervous I became and that was not good, a cool head was the be-all and end-all of such a situation, so I tried to concentrate.

Osa's voice sounded through the little button in my ear, a final radio check and the info that we were there.

The helicopters were in stealth mode and it was pitch black outside, so no one should see us coming and if they did we just had to be faster than them. We rappelled down, split up and moved forward step by step, all a matter of years of routine, one unit, one goal, that's how we acted. Finka led the way, Kali had given her a map and the approximate route she could remember. Behind her was Ace with his backpack on his back containing everything possible for emergency supplies, and I brought up the rear. Quietly but quickly and determinedly we managed to pass the rear deck, we entered the interior and made our way through the narrow and winding corridors. If someone stood in our way, we simply eliminated him, we showed no mercy. One should never involve one's own feelings in such a thing, but that was simply not possible in this case. I wanted to see them all burn.

Finka looked one last time at the map and an escape plan hanging on the wall to compare them.

"So if I interpreted Kali's description correctly, we're almost there. Just around the corner and then the last door on the left."

We had to hurry, surely we didn't have much time left.

We reached the last room of the hallway as suspected and stood in front of a locked door which Ace kicked in with a firm heave.

Together we entered the room while Lera secured us from outside.

It was dark, cold and smelled unpleasant, I turned on my flashlight and looked around. On the floor were old worn bandages, on the table were untouched scraps of food that were definitely no longer fresh and at the other end of the room was a bed and on it lay something or rather someone. Now that I was standing here, so close to her, I was afraid.

What if I was too late? What if it was all for nothing, or if it wasn't her after all and Kali made a mistake?

So many things were going through my mind at the same time but my legs carried me towards the bed as if by remote control until I came to a stop in front of it. I shone my lamp on the bedspread and the first thing I saw was a tuft of red hair, it was indeed Eliza. I reached out and touched her face, it was cold, bloody and one side was swollen as if something heavy had hit her there recently. Briefly her eyelids fluttered as my fingers touched her cheek, she looked in my direction and in a shaky, scratchy voice said my name then her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth twitched briefly as if she were smiling.

[timeoverload]

I thought I was feeling pretty good yesterday when I made that personal post but that didn't last very long. I think I only felt good because I was manic. I wasn't trying to be annoying but I get that way sometimes I guess. My mind was racing all night and all day.

My grandma texted me like 5 minutes after I posted that yesterday to tell me that my mom needed help. I guess my grandma got sick after I left so she couldn't deal with her. I texted my mom and couldn't get anything figured out as usual because she wouldn't stop ranting. I get a few messages that make sense and then she continues freaking out. She can't focus on one thing at a time. I kept asking her if I could send her any information but she couldn't give me a clear answer. I don't know where she is going because she can't make up her mind. She said that she is going to figure something out so I don't know what that means. I don't know how she is going to do anything without identification, money, or transportation. My grandma thinks my mom spends a lot of money on booze still and that wouldn't surprise me. I think she probably still drinks a lot but maybe she doesn't feel like she can control her impulses. She keeps talking about being suicidal too. She said that "they" want her to kill herself but she doesn't want to do that. She is fighting her own mind and it's so sad. I don't know what to do and it's scaring me. It's impossible to comfort her. I wish she never left in the first place but I can't control her no matter what I do. I think she needs to be committed and that is the only thing that will save her. She's not going to agree to it and I have no legal authority over her. I am so stressed about her but I am powerless and I suppose I have been doing my best to distract myself. I am hoping and praying she finds somewhere safe to go.

I only got 2 hours of sleep last night because I couldn't relax or get comfortable. My blood pressure was so high and I couldn't get it under control. My stomach was turning and I felt like I was going to throw up but I didn't. I felt worse this morning. I think I may have given myself mild food poisoning. I ate some old applesauce that was in my fridge on Saturday but it still had a week before it expired. It didn't taste right but I had to eat something. My grandma also gave me some pie yesterday and I have no idea how old it was or how long it had been sitting out. I ate that last night and I wish I wouldn't have. It tasted ok but I probably should have heated it up. I don't know what else would have upset my stomach so much other than stress. I haven't been eating well for a while and I can tell my digestive system is angry with me. I wish my appetite would come back. I thought it would help if I stopped taking the muscle relaxers but it hasn't. My stomach feels like it's eating myself and I have experienced that sensation on a regular basis since I was younger. I have had tests done in the past but they showed that everything was working normally so I don't know what to think. I do worry about getting stomach cancer because I had a relative on my mom's side of the family that died from that. I remember seeing her picture and she looked a lot like me so that freaked me out. I can't remember her name though. I should probably ask my grandma if she has any more information about her. I need to stop jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst but that's how my brain works sometimes. I know I have acid reflux so it's likely that could be the cause so I need to stop panicking.

This week is kind of hard for me as it is. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day that I was diagnosed with sepsis 3 years ago. The 10th is when I was finally admitted to the hospital. I am still amazed that I didn't die. I still remember how I felt writhing in agony on my couch for a week because the antibiotics didn't work. I was so scared and I didn't understand what was happening. I'll never forget how I got screamed at for not cleaning and being "lazy" during my "time off" when I was clearly in excruciating pain. It wasn't a vacation and I wasn't taken seriously until my doctor told me to go to the emergency room. I hated being in the hospital by myself but it was nice to have some peace. I remember spending the whole time I was there wishing Maxwell was with me because I didn't want to die without him. I don't think he realized how much I cared about him and loved him in the very beginning. I loved him from the first moment I heard his voice on the phone. I felt like shit because I had to cancel my appointment because I was sick. It was just a nightmare and I wish I could forget those memories. They always come back this time of year. I haven't been the same since then. It took a lot out of me. I think it is a pretty big deal that I'm still around because I have read studies that suggest that people who develop sepsis are more likely to die within 5 years post infection. I don't want to be part of that statistic so I really need to do my best to take better care of myself. It's just so difficult for me and I don't understand it.

Today wasn't too busy. I had 24 cases but they were going at an easy pace so that wasn't bad. I was feeling pretty lethargic and nauseated all day so I couldn't move very fast anyway. The morning team lead is driving me bonkers. I think it's his goal to annoy me as much as possible. I know he is trying to make me laugh but I am too tired to joke around. I try to play along but it's tough right now. He has been very nice to me and it seems like he really enjoys talking to me so I appreciate that. I just wish he could tone it down a little bit in the morning when I'm still waking up because he can be so intense. I think I get easily overstimulated when he is around. Nothing exciting happened today. I mostly kept to myself later in the day because I just did not feel good enough to have long conversations. I think people noticed because they kept trying to talk to me. It's nice to know that people care and they can tell when something is wrong even when I don't say it.

I really hope I feel better tomorrow. I picked up some boost on my way home so I'm going to have 2 of those and some soup for dinner. I'm sure that will help a little bit. I need to try to eat more solid foods. I ate breakfast today but I didn't eat lunch. I don't know why eating lunch is such a challenge but it's probably because the food isn't very good and I don't want to spend over $10 on food every day. I also hate eating a lot in the middle of the day because it makes me sleepy. I know I will improve my diet eventually but it's going to take a long time.

Maxwell, I just wanted you to know that I accept you just the way you are and I support you. I am not trying to embarrass you by talking about this but I feel like I need to. It is still a little shocking to me even though I had a gut feeling all along. I do wish that I would have found out another way but maybe you tried to tell me a long time ago and it went over my head. I understand that it's difficult to be open about that stuff. We mirror each other in a lot of ways so I suppose it makes sense that you would be like me. Of course I am not going to judge you for that. I am glad that you accepted me for who I am so I can do the same for you. I would like to have a private discussion sometime about this because I just want to understand you. I have no problem with anything as long as we love each other and stay loyal to each other. I do think women are beautiful but I have no intention of being with another woman. I know that's not what I want. I want to be with you and only you for the rest of my life. I know I have never been attracted to anyone else like I am to you. You are special and you are the most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am monogamous and I know I'm not going to change my mind. I have been thinking a lot today and I realized that I have never dated a straight person before either so this is nothing new for me. I have always been around the lgbtq+ community. The majority of my friends in middle school and high school were queer. It's nice to know that we have that in common so it makes it easier for us to understand each other. I hope that we are on the same page. I love you. :) 💖💖💖

Anyway, I am feeling more calm than I did earlier. I know I shouldn't spend all night writing because I have things I should do. My back is bothering me so I should try to do some stretches and put some ice on it. I need to force myself to eat. I'm going to do my best to go to bed earlier. I hate feeling like a zombie every day. I'm also going to do my best to avoid acting as crazy as I feel. Hopefully I will feel more alive tomorrow and that it's a good day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow. Thank you for listening to me. :) 💖💖💖

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #200

Where were your parents born? Mom is from New York and Dad is from Ohio.

Have you ever used public transportation to get to work? No.

Who in your family has the coolest job? Idk, honestly.

Have you found your first gray hairs yet? No.

What is your favorite food to put gravy on? I hate gravy.

Do you know anyone from Canada? I do! My ex's best friend had a long-distance relationship with a Canadian, and during one of her visits, Jason and I hug out with them. We're still Facebook friends, I like her a lot.

What's your opinion on astrology? If you want my honest opinion, I think it's laughable to even consider. Take responsibility for your own actions and feelings.

Do you use TikTok? No.

Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now? Yikes, no.

Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys? Doesn't matter to me. I'm less shy and awkward around women, but.

Are you good at hiding your feelings? NO

Can you drive a stick shift? I've never tried, so no.

Do you care if people talk badly about you? I wish I didn't, but I do.

Are you going out of town soon? No.

Does anyone hate you? I'm sure.

Do you think you'll be married in 5 years? I feel like probably.

Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship? I've been in the same relationship for two and a half years.

What’s the best part about school? Regularly seeing friends. It helped to fight my social anxiety/reclusiveness and stuff.

Do you have any pictures on your Facebook? Yeah, I've had the same account since I joined as what, a pre-teen? Oftentimes I want to make a new one, however I've liked so many pages (primarily for memes) that I don't want to start over lmfao. LITERALLY the main reason I don't start fresh.

Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school? I didn't; I was a teacher's pet very keen on not causing trouble.

Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive? That would be my mother, and it'd be quite problematic if I found her attractive in the way you're talking. I think she's beautiful, and her smile is the greatest one in the whole world, but there's no sexual attraction there.

Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Yeah. It's way healthier and deeper with my mom, but.

How do you want to die? Old age, I guess. Surrounded by family.

When was your last physical fight? Never.

Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? The longest I've stayed up consistently is three days, because I was manic.

Ever made out in the bathroom? No, that sounds so uncomfortable to me lol.

Are you scared of spiders? In general, no. I've come to love them. HOWEVER, they can still startle me if I'm not expecting one. As animals though, they're lovely and EXTREMELY interesting!!

What is/are/were your best subject(s)? English/writing, art, and German.

Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? Yes. It's a shitty feeling.

Do you have trust issues? Yes. I do think they've improved, but they're still there for sure.

Favourite food? I'm so unhealthy dude, I would straight-up say chocolate, but let's be real, that's not a proper food. As far as "real" answers go, cheeseburgers, probably. Still unhealthy.

Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Hell fucking no. I think what's happening in Palestine as we speak is enough fucking proof of that. Whoever has the fucking audacity to say things like kids getting cancer has a reason, how fucking dare you.

Is cheating ever okay? No, it's not.

What makes you happy? Seeing any footage of meerkats.

Is there anyone you would die for? There's honestly a lot of people I would die for, deadass.

What’s the best news you’ve gotten lately? Um... I'm not sure?

^And, the worst? My mom's cancer is back; there's a new growth in her abdomen that will require surgery to remove ASAP. I've been really struggling with it, like we were fully aware it was GONNA come back at some point, her diagnosis was too advanced not to, but I'm still scared. I'm SO convinced I don't have much time left with her, because of course a scan revealed its return AFTER she had to stop her cancer med because it's been three years, and continuing it would put her too deeply at risk for bone marrow cancer, which would be way bigger of a problem.

Do you like getting dressed up? Rarely.

Would you be embarrassed to find out you snored loudly in public? I would be mortified, probably.

Are you reading any books at the moment? Yes; it's Sign of the Moon in the "Omen of the Stars" plot arc of Warriors by Erin Hunter. What a mouthful.

When was the last time you had a tick on you? It's been years, probably. I'm like, deathly afraid of ticks, so I avoid areas where I know they'd be common. It's a fear I need to get over though since I aspire to be a wildlife/nature photographer, and also because I DESPERATELY want to be a herper when my legs are more reliable. I regularly have dreams about herping, this isn't just a shallow want, I feel like my fuckin soul wants it.

Have you been to the Grand Canyon? No, but I'm dying to visit one day.

Do you like grapes or raisins better? I only like grapes, raisins are horrendous.

What is the picture on the desktop on the computer you’re using? A meerkat among flowers that I edited to be light pink.

Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No, this is a terrifying concept to me.

Do you believe in ghosts? Yeah. I don't know how aware I think spirits are, but I definitely believe in the remnants of sentient life existing in SOME way.

Would you ever stay overnight in a haunted house? Oh fucking totally.

When was the last time you had an injection? What for? When I was at the ER for an asthma attack, I think. I had so many needles in me that night lol.

Is there anything you cannot wait to be over? Yes, this struggle to find a medication that helps my depression and its symptoms, especially anhedonia. It was recently decided that I'm going to retry Latuda and Lamictal, which was my absolute miracle combination in 2017, however I eventually became immune to its effects, hence why I stopped. It apparently is possible to lose immunity to these kinds of medications though, so we're HOPING that'll be the case for me with the combo that literally saved my entire life.

What was the last thing you had done at the dentist? Hmmm... I feel like it was a normal cleaning?

Does your best girlfriend have any talents that you don’t? She is a BRILLIANT makeup artist.

What color eyes does the last person you kissed have? Brown.

Did your parents ever read stories to you before bed? My mom did.

What are you listening to? I'm watching/listening to a Gab Smolders Dark Souls LP.

Do you like hickeys? I only mind them if they're in obvious spots that make them publicly awkward lol. Otherwise, I'm a biter so I can't say shit lmao

Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? No, not anymore.

Do you have any summer plans yet? No.

Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? Oh boy, he's seen me full-on fall apart.

Are most of your friends guys or girls? The majority of my closest friends are actually nonbinary.

Who do you text the most? My mom.

Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? I don't think so, but ESPECIALLY not if it's a very young baby. I am not meant to be a parent figure.

Do you miss your last sweetie? No. I sometimes miss how tight our friendship was, and how at home I felt around her in person, but do I miss our relationship? No. She took a toll on my self-worth; Sara made me feel very annoying on far too regular a basis.

Would you rather be anorexic or obese? Hey have you heard of going to fuck yourself?

Do you know anyone who is pregnant right now? Yes, a woman I took pictures of once because she's the friend of a regular client I had.

What’s your favorite alcoholic beverage? Sangrias.

Do you play any games on your phone? Pokemon GO, DragonVale, and Amaru, if you count a self-care virtual pet.

Have you ever shaved your face? I use a mini razor tool on my upper lip and chin, where I'll have dark hair.

What was the last vaccination you got? Covid, when it was a newer thing.

Do you have a brother? Yeah, Bobby.

Would you ever have a bird as a pet? I can't imagine myself with a bird.

Have you ever had to speak at a funeral? No. I don't think I'd be able to, I'm too emotional, I wouldn't be able to get words out.

When was the last time you saw your father? A week ago at my youngest niece's birthday party.

Any time when you need to search something on the Internet, which search engine do you use? Google.

Do you believe in saving your virginity for marriage or no? Marriage is literally a ceremony and that's it. Nothing important has truly changed, save your virginity for someone you love and feel safe with, otherwise who fuckin cares.

When you open your web browser, what is your home page set to? Why did you select this? Google. I think this laptop just came that way, and I've had no reason to change it.

[loulicate-recs]

Hello sweet Hanis! I’m so sorry for the delay, but I’m finally back!! I hope you didn’t miss me too much and had a nice December 19th. In a similar fashion, I’m wishing you the best for December 20th. And wow, I didn’t realize we were so close to the end, already! I’ve been working on your gift, and I must say it’s a little bit stressful. I hope it will bring you happiness anyways. I should definitely try to hurry up if I want it to be done on time… And for now, it’s not entirely to my taste so I have a lot to work on!

I’m still sick but a lot better. I probably had a fever last night cause my forehead felt super warm, but I felt incredibly cold. I’m glad I woke up today without feeling like my hands would fall off with how cold I was! Honestly can’t wait to have two functioning nostrils dklsdql and speaking about going to the cinema, I was supposed to go see a movie tonight, but I feel too tired to do so. Having a cold sucks! But no, I usually don’t eat food at the cinema. It has happened I’ve bought popcorn, but it really doesn’t happen often because I thin it’s too expensive for what it usually is. And the feeling of having popcorn stuck in your teeth is the absolute worst, too, idk how I managed to forget it every time. What about you? Homemade snacks like the housewife you are or victim of capitalism? Fond of popcorn? I don’t know how shameful it is to admit, but I’ve actually never seen legally Blond dkjsqhd. When I was 10, I bought the books at a flea market but ended up never reading them because the covers were ugly in my opinion. I know that’s the pettiest reason ever but ten years old me was something else! It’s funny you mentioned HP, as one of my siblings is watching HP at the moment. I think he’s watching the 6th one, though. My favourite one is probably the 3rd one and least favourite one the 4th. Once again, it’s not linked to the quality of the movie but more to the fact that the sibling aforementioned would watch the Goblet of fire every day at some point. Kinda traumatized me. Plus, the only girl sucks at being a witch and the movie makes it seem like the girls of her school are only good at being pretty.

My uni is about 45 minutes away door to door–I have a 10/15 minute walk to the station then a 25 minute ride with the tube and another 5 minute walk to get to uni. Compared to most people in my area, that’s very reasonable. Around here, I think the average time is 45 minutes to an hour so anything around that is considered normal. I’d also say that despite a lot of people complaining about the deficiencies of the public transportations, it works quite well–I’m once again only speaking about my area, as experiences vary from suburbs to suburbs. I think there are enough underground trains too that I usually don’t have to worry about missing one. I just go to the station and if I miss one by a minute then there’ll be another one. I’m always early anyways kdslkqdlsm I think taking the tube is not quite the same as taking a plane! I am 4548646456% more stressed for a long journey than I am when I take the tube. Where have you flown to before?

I can’t believe I’ve given you another clue. At the same time, I thought you already KNEW English wasn’t my first language as I’ve mentioned l live in Europe and in Europe, very few countries have English as their official language (besides the UK and Ireland, I mean). And I also felt like I already had implied I didn’t live there when we discussed the English countryside. BUT anyways I feel like I’m speaking too much and shouldn’t remind you everything I’ve said. And I’ve listened to a video to learn how to speal easy malay and can only say nama saya secret santa <3 saya dari a secret country <3

That’s interesting! Are you planning to get married, someday? I think I’m quite lucky because I don’t feel pressure to marry–not that I don’t want to, I’m just not quite set on that. And it’s not entirely linked to the question before but to you, what’s the ultimate proof of love? And I can definitely relate! I’m always scared I’ll accidentally like one of your posts.

I do celebrate Christmas, though it’s pretty lowkey and entirely unreligious. We exchange gifts, have a nice but not too long meal, and then we’re done before midnight dskqdjsq it’s nice, though as I don’t really like huge gatherings. Too many people makes it a little bit too impersonal for me. Do you? If not, what do you celebrate and if so, what’s your favourite thing about Christmas?

You’re such an older daughter! Trying to live up to expectations and all that jazz. And when I say I sing in the car, it’s just not me putting up a show it’s more like, everyone’s singing together to tunes we listen to as a family dslkdjsq I wouldn’t have the confidence to try and belt otherwise lol. I’m sure you sing really well!!

Maybe I’ll hate US promo a little less for the mere fact it brings you happiness dskdjs I usually don’t love it because it’s very… US like? I don’t know, it’s probably more of a feeling than a real thing. AND I KNOW!!! He’s just there, his face facing the crowd, and hands stroke and pet him gently :( he’s not even fazed! You mentioned how comfy he makes us feel but I feel like it is also true the other way around and that’s super cute :( I’m so deeply sorry you couldn’t see him. I was in a similar predicament for my own show and it took me a while to get used to the idea. Fingers crossed for FITF tour! I have a ticket for the show so I really hope everything goes according to plan for you and me both.

You want me to reveal myself by asking me my star sign, don’t you? I’m not giving it to you but to make it better, I’m gonna tell you I’m a daughter to a cancer father and a taurus mum. I don’t know what you can do with this info, but it’s out. By the way, do you get along with your parents? If it is an uncomfy matter to you, please feel free not to answer!

Sending you kisses and love <3<3<3<3 I still hope it won’t get you sick. It was once again a pleasure reading you :) love you babe and take care! xx

hello hello my santa ♡ hope you had an easier day compared to the previous! i have missed you! forgiving you with a sorry from me for being a day late. i was actually planning to write you back yesterday but then i was so caught up in finishing the gift for my santa baby too and eventually fell asleep while working on it :( i am both blushing and feeling guilty for basically being the reason to your stressful situation, i appreciate how you are trying your hardest and best to gift me when you didn’t even have to! talking to you have felt rewarding to me, you made my days more meaningful for the past few weeks and i cannot ever thank you enough for that. not to be sentimental but with you i feel… listened ♡ regardless of feeling guilty, i am stilll eager to find out what you’re giving me, i KNOW that i will love it and definitely will store it in my core memory!

i am partially happy that you’re feeling better but not entirely recovered! do you have any special coping mechanism to ease your painful state when you’re under the weather? i personally have to eat something spicy just to feel something when i get sick. speaking about nostrils, are you having a flu too? my nostrils get blocked almost every night, i haven’t been able to completely get rid of sinus since my preteen years :/ by the way, how long will it snow there, where you live? and do you often get sick during the cold december? oh no, what movie were you supposed to be seeing :o i completely agree with you about the popcorn part, honestly the first time i went to see a movie at the cinema i found that popcorns during movie was an overrated concept, but sometimes i still bought them because my friends always insisted us to. but most of the times i’d sneak in pretzels or chips from my favourite vendors outside of the cinema. more affordable and fits to my taste. and certainly never a homemade snack for cinema sdfgfj i’m not louis enough for that </3 just like how you were shamed to admit you’ve never watched legally blonde, i am also shameful to admit that i didn’t know it had a book. i think it’s safe to tell you that hp 4 is also my least favourite, it just feels less magical compared to the rest. and let’s not talk about harry’s characterisation being watered down :|

hearing about your routine is fascinating although i don’t how to feel about the 45 minutes journey to class everyday :o and you mentioning that you’re always early… wow. i complain for the stupid 7 minutes walk to my faculty/ or on some days i’d carpool with my friends, if my lecturers cancel the class last minute after i’m already in the class sdgfhd and i even stay in the campus. you are really a dedicate student! how long are your lectures daily on average? i’ve flown to the neighbouring countries before for holidays, have yet to escape asia </3 what about you?

shdjdf i know, i wasn’t meant to say that english is your first language as in you don’t speak another language beside it like the british! because there are some malay friends of mine who have been using full english from the day they were born and only use the malay language when it is necessary. and they claim that english is their first language! that’s what i meant to ask, if you’re one of those people, sorry that it was unclear </3 now I am speaking too much. waa that’s cute! and when you say that again but the ‘secret santa’ and ‘secret country’ are replaced with the actual names >:) i wonder what you first language is, i’ve reached duolingo’s level 3 in french before and maybe that’s the most i’ve learned in one of the many third languages i’ve attempted to learn before lmfao. anyway 3 more days and maybe i’ll find out if it’s french or something else that you speak :3

oh tbh we are the same! i don’t find marriage is something that should be my priority, not now and i don’t think that’s gonna change in the future too, but who knows :) when i talk about possible partner i always envision the idea of me being in a non serious relationship where me and the other person just do, discover and learn new stuff together as we grow. i’ve always liked the idea! though it might also has something to do with me living in a place where i’d be expected to marry only the men if i ever wanted to. and newsflash hanis prefers something else mwah <3 btw, i find your question is kinda hard to answer since i’ve never been in a situation where i love someone too hard (louis look away for awhile) or i am loved romantically. but i think time is quite the mastermind of everything, so i get pretty fond when i see old couples showing their affection towards each other. like imagine all the things you’ve gone though together, physical changed, too many ups and downs and you’re still tied together like the first day you confessed your love to each other?! like what more could you ask in order to believe that you are absolutely loved by your lover? sdgdh am i answering your question by the way?

enlighten me, as i don’t know much about the deeper meaning of christmas apart from what’s been shown in the media and public presentations, is christmas a religious celebration for some? i know this is stupid but i used to think that christmas is to celebrate the arrival of the snow, and it’s probably why christmas is not that big here because we don’t have snow… k1ll 10 year old me. i understand you! well as obvious as it is i don’t celebrate christmas, but i do celebrate the eid. and i guess any celebration can’t escape the huge gatherings :/ i’d sometimes lock myself in the room for awhile if the hosting tired me out. by the way despite not celebrating christmas, i do have a lot of things that i like about it, and one of them is the films <3 because all of them have snow scenes and i just love it sgdhdh, i need to roll on the snow someday. what’s your favourite part about christmas, if there’s not many people in your house?

that sounds like a lot of fun, singing together as a family! mine just be putting on our own headphones because we all have different taste in music.

it IS very US like but i think he does more fun things there? don’t get me wrong it will never be enough to me, he needs better better promo i need him to play more games on the real talk shows and not just singing and more youtube segments. but to me a lot of things he does during UK promo is quite UK fans-centered? i mean it’s great he does all that to get closer to the fans but still! tho i’m not complaining about the content we got from his fitf love performance and the album signings <3 as someone who is neither from the US not the UK i’ll take what i can get! yes, he never fails to mention how thankful he is for the fans, he never forgets! it’s like a mantra coming out out from his mouth to call the fans incredible eeee he’s too cute :( “thank you for letting me make the kind of music that i want to make” well thank YOU for making the kind of music that i want you to do and that i want to hear??? one day i’ll eat him i promise. omg you got a ticket? for the europe date i assume? you will meet him you will nothing’s coming in your way i am praying on both of my knees! so happy for you ♡

yah actually :3 but i failed dang! a taurus and a cancer, sounds like a perfect pair! would you say your parents share the same personality or more like a pair of opposite attract? i have a good relationship with my parents but i don’t think we are that affectionate compared to some families. they forgot my birthday this year but since we’re not always that big on birthdays it didn’t affect me that much. i personally get more validation from my dad, and not too often if not never from mum. she is quite strict with us, sometimes i feel like i have a mid mommy issue lol. but thank god my parents actually do co-exist, what i don’t get from my mum i’ll seek from my dad especially when it comes to compliments over something i achieved. but she can be generous on some days! do you get along with both of your parents?

keeping the kisses and hugs deep in my heart! and sending you back, doubled ♡ i saw in your other ask that you’ve been thinking about the reveal day, just want you to know i’m truly excited to find out who you are, whether we’ve talked before this whole secret santa thing or not. are we even mutuals? if yes, how close we were and if not, how could it possible to feel so comfortable talking to you? you don’t have to answer, they’re just my personal monologues. 3 more days! perhaps just 1-2 more letter exchange(s) between us and we’ll meet soon ♡ have a perfect day, love you!

[ichigoromi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 | 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

Aww, my poor baby, it's all a misunderstanding!

Pairing (s): Miya Osamu (timeskip) x fem reader! (she/her)

Genre: Romance, fluff

Warning (s): usage of strong language

Enjoy!

Miya Osamu

Every anniversary, Osamu plans the best dates ever to celebrate the special day together.

But, this year, your boyfriend is busy opening his second store in Osaka and overlooking the operations here in Hyogo and Osaka.

So, you decided to plan this year's anniversary plans.

Since it was your first time doing this, you were super excited and even involved your best friend.

However, this plan got you distant from Osamu, and he was getting suspicious.

When he questioned you why you were getting home late recently, but it's a surprise event, you had to lie.

And Osamu knows when you are lying.

The tips of your ears turned red, and your cheeks redden.

The truth was, you were making some pottery pieces and meetings with a jeweller to make custom rings.

Osamu just had the wildest thought, and he tried to look into your phone, but these days, your phone is always close to you.

And he needs to talk to someone.

Who else better to talk to than his twin?

So, he drove all the way to Osaka to meet with him.

"Tsumu, do ya think y/n is cheating on me?" By now, he was already half-drunk and struggling to stay awake.

Atsumu looks at him with a disbelief look. Why does his twin think that his girlfriend of four years, who is the best and wifey material, is cheating on him?

"Ya know, she's been distant. When I come home, she's not home. Tsumu, am I not good enough?" And he starts crying.

Drunk Osamu is the worst to handle.

"Samu, just trust y/n. She's ain't cheating on ya. Come on, let's put ya to bed." Atsumu drags him to the guest room.

Even though he is no longer a volleyball player, he continues to go to the gym and is still in a good physique.

"What an idiot. Y/n probably have something up her sleeve. Did he forget that his anniversary is coming up?" Atsumu shook his head and went to his bedroom to sleep.

---

Finally, the day has come, and you took the day off to prepare for the event. You knew that your boyfriend had forgotten about the anniversary since he was so busy, but not to worry about it, cause you planned it all.

Atsumu has received instructions from you, and you were excited to see this through.

From outfit of the day to even transport, you have planned it.

If plan A fails, there's always plan B.

"Tsumu, come on. We're gonna be late!" Osamu was still suffering from a hangover and still pouting over that his girlfriend might be cheating on him.

Or worse, is she going to introduce her side guy to him today?

"I'm done." Done? Atsumu sat him down and helped his twin to tidy up.

Was he really that upset that his girlfriend might be cheating on him?

"Samu, get your head together! God dang it!"

Dang, a pouty and upset, Osamu is such a brat to please.

Finally, after half an hour of Atsumu doing his magic, he was looking good, and Atsumu was ready to deliver his twin back to you.

You two need to clear some misunderstandings.

When you see the familiar car of Atsumu, your heart starts to skip a little.

It is time.

You can see the little pout on Osamu as he exited the car, and you can probably guess why. Over the weeks that you were planning this event, you did not give him much attention, and he probably jumped to some wild conclusion that he has.

"Samu! Over here!" He can't lie that his own heart skipped a beat when he saw you waving, with a bouquet of flowers in your hand.

But, he was still a little upset.

"Happy Anniversary, Samu! Here, flowers for ya!" You handed him the bouquet, and he was taken back.

Did he forget the anniversary?

"Look! We are wearing a couple outfit! And we are going on a trip to Kyoto!" Without saying anything, he wraps his arms around you tightly.

"I thought ya were cheating on me...Turns out ya was busy with planning." Hearing that, you just burst out laughing. It was just so absurd that you could not help but laugh.

This guy and his imaginations.

"Aww, I'm sorry! You were so busy with the opening in Osaka, and you always planned our dates, so I thought I should do it this time. Okay, we have to go now, or else we're gonna miss our train!" You tip-toed and kissed his lips, pulling him to the entrance of the train station.

---

Although Osamu has been to Kyoto multiple times, this trip is the best. Mainly because you planned it and you have been giving him the attention that he missed.

You booked a private suite at one of the best hot spring resorts, and after a long soak, you ordered some of the best that Kyoto could offer.

"Ah, Samu, wait. I got something to give you."

You went out and left him alone in the dining room.

What were you preparing after planning this fantastic trip?

"Samu, happy anniversary!" You passed him a bag, and you motioned for him to open it.

It was a set of teacups and a pair of swans that you painstakingly made.

And there was a small navy velvet box in there.

"Well, ya know, we have been talking about how we gonna have babies and stuff..So do ya wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Of course!" He literally jumped into your arms, pushing you down to the tatami mat.

"Gosh, aren't ya excited? Let's put the rings on." Osamu almost teared up at the sight of the handmade rings. He slips the ring onto your finger, and you help him with his.

"Now, we are officially engaged! How about we head to the bedroom to celebrate?" He swoops you into his arms.

"Ah! You horny bastard! Always-" He shuts you up with a kiss.

"I have been waiting for weeks! Let's go!"

Needless to say, your whole body ached the following day.

I forgot to mention something! A pair of swans symbolises soulmates for life. Hence I thought it would be lovely as an anniversary gift. Hope y'all enjoyed reading this!

Stay safe and healthy!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

[thrndlngs]

three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character.  also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties.  ♡ 

i.

     "'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters  ──  which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship. 

  “shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department. 

  “we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning. 

  “──stop talking, it’s distracting me.” 

  your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter. 

  “they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

  “three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

  “──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

  “we haven’t played that since── “

  “yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.” 

  you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

  “let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same. 

  it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

  you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight  ──  but there wasn’t really much you could do.

  “two minutes.” 

   this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

   “i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

  “i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

  “──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

  “says the one whose sweating to death.” 

  “and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

  “yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.” 

  he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.” 

�� in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.” 

 “are you serious?” 

  “oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

  “it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder. 

 “okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

  “mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart. 

  “now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

     “good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

  “──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

  “no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

  “is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”  

  he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

  “and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

   this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours  ──  regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him. 

  as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight? 

  “d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

  “only because you have food.” 

  he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different. 

  so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

     “i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well  ──  these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often. 

  “you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating. 

  “──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

  “because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him  ──  he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

  “if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

  “a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.” 

  “don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you  ──  

  you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

  if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you  ──  stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him. 

  yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it? 

  but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it  ── despite the ache in his chest.

  iv.

     "we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

  “pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different. 

  “try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

  “make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should. 

  he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.” 

  “it better stay that way ‘toshi.” 

  he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none. 

 he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

  “──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

  he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you. 

  you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

  “you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.” 

  you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

[sitp-recs]

Hello! I've been suffering from the worst case of January blues. Do you happen to have any recs for light and fun and feel-good fics? Bonus points if they're smutty too. Thanks ❤️

Hello darling! I feel you on those January blues, it’s been a slow start for me too. I hope these will help, they never fail to make me smile and always leave me warm and fuzzy afterwards :)

Sun Stroke by @peachpety (2020, E, 3.8k)

Draco, Harry, and a handful of friends take a summer holiday at the beach. With the help of a sultry sea setting, encouraging friends, and a fisherman’s jumper, Harry and Draco's mutual attraction swells and things get hot on a salty summer night.

(Un)Calculated Risk by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (2017, E, 7k)

He thought about the way Harry looked at him, smiled at him; about the way Draco’s head was nearly always full of him, all day every day, and about the way Draco sometimes deliberately went to bed still smelling of him, refusing to acknowledge what it meant – because he already fucking knew what it meant. What all of it meant. And then Draco decided, fuck it, he was going to risk it. They were going to risk it together, Harry and Draco.

Play Dates by @bixgirl1 (2017, E, 7.7k)

Harry never thought seeing Malfoy as a dad would affect him this way.

Born Slippy by @dracoladon (2020, E, 8k)

Harry finds that it's less 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor' and more 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, decide Malfoy's quite fit, actually, and decent company after your friends traitorous abandonment, floor.' With Malfoy lying next to you.

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (2014, E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (2010, M, 8.7k)

Some things, you need to learn on the job.

The Full Monty by @magpiefngrl (2017, E, 9.8k)

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Aural Gratification by birdsofshore (2014, E, 10k)

Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot. Career choices: Harry: Ministry of Magic desk job; Draco: m/m romance narrator

Sweet Indulgence by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 10k)

It doesn't matter that Marcy from Accounting is dancing on the tables, Shacklebolt is wearing antlers, and Elliot from Transportation is on his third round of Mariah Carey on karaoke because all the free champagne in the world won't salvage the Ministry Christmas party for Draco if Potter doesn't show up soon.

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken (2020, T, 12k)

What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn. This story isn't about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Kill, Fuck, Marry by @lettersbyelise (2018, E, 12.6k)

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.”

Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (2014, E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

Reparatio by astolat (2016, E, 17k)

Draco snorted. “I’m not reduced to penury. I want something considerably beyond money, and I rather think you’re the only one can give it to me.”

“You want the Invisibility Cloak,” Harry said, flatly. He’d half expected as much; it was the only thing he had that Draco could want—

“Don’t be stupid, Potter,” Draco said. “I want my reputation back.”

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (2019, E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (2020, E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot. Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by @eidheann and @firethesound (2015, E, 36k)

After transferring to the Apparition Department, Harry's life becomes one big dick joke. And all his friends are arseholes. So is Malfoy, but what else is new? AKA Harry Potter and the eighteen twenty dicks.

Bonus: sometimes art is the easiest way to make us smile and unwind! I can’t rec these beautiful comics enough, they’re among my favorite feel-good Drarry content:

Think about it, alright? by @caroll-in (2020, G)

Fed up with all the pining, Harry's friends decide to do a little "intervention". Meanwhile, Draco's friends have a similar idea.

Advent by dustmouth (2020, T)

It's Harry and Draco's first Christmas together and Draco is determined to live his full yuletide fantasy, come hell or high water.

[puckinghell]

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him.  Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model. 

----

(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

1. 

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

2.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone. 

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

3. 

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs. 

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

4. 

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

+1

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.  

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.  

[babykatsu]

PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

WORDCOUNT: 7k

RATING: nsfw ⛈

GENRE: smut!

WARNINGS: slow burn, swearing, kissing, no intercourse, foreplay, car sex, little bit of degradation, a littleeee rough!

⤷ SYNOPSIS:

as though fate had its worst intentions, bakugous car had broken down on the way to your high school reunion with you in the car as well. GREAT! Not only was it getting dark and chilly, you were also in the middle of nowhere... That really didn’t ease the atmosphere, especially when Bakugou was already hesitant on lending you a drive to the reunion. But with the discomfort, there always comes a way to ease it ;)

AUTHORS NOTE:

a special thanks to @laylahoran for not only helping me proof read and pick out the title for this scenario BUT also for just being there to support me through out this whole thing! Literally the purest friend🥺🥺💕💕 ilysmmm!!!

Also, this is my first detailed smut imagine so sorry if it’s a bit sloppy :(

Life after high school proved to be a lot more different than expected. For starters, after having moved to find better work opportunities in the city, you found yourself deprived of nearly all social interaction with your previous friends. Yes, you still caught up over text and call, but it was safe to say it was not quite the same. Not only did the hectic schedule of working for a hero agency clash with your friends’, when you were on your days off all your friends seemed to be busy with their own goals of becoming high ranking heroes. You sort of started living a more solitary lifestyle, a drastic change from your previous one.

So when you flopped down on your couch, your body sluggish and desperate for sleep after a bustling day of work, you felt suddenly energised. Eyes wide as you could just barely believe what you were reading. An email had illuminated on your phone screen, reading the following:

“Greetings class A! It has been nearly a year since we have all graduated and I’m in complete aw as to how far you have all come :) On a more dejected note, however, we have all seemed to grow more distant due to our work. I have missed you all dearly and believe the connections we all formed are amazing experiences we should not forget about! Though we may have kept in contact here and there, it’s evident that we all have been lacking. This is why I have taken it upon myself to set up a reunion party! More information is soon to be delivered in the next email, and I’m super excited to hear from you all. Arrangements with your agencies will take place as soon as confirmations come through. You’re previous classmate, Tenya Iida”

As though your prayers had been answered, you were greeted with that email. Now, this was an offer you couldn’t pass up! Without hesitation, your fingers started typing away at your phone, the pads of your fingers darting across the glass as though they had a mind of their own. You were determined to go, excitement flooding your sense at just the thought of the whole event! As your eager fingers hit send on the email a sudden thought crossed your mind.

Shit...

You hadn’t thought about it previously, mind racing and occupied with the general idea of a reunion, how were you going to get to the location of the party?

As said previously, life was not as expected after graduating, and though heroes lived a life with above-average pay, bathing in luxuries at times, it all took years of experience. No way could you have reached such a high status having worked for less than a year in this field. With the lack of money to your name, there were no chances of you owning a car at this very moment in time. Maybe public transport was a good option? But the delays, need for time arrangements and the entire coordination of your journey was already giving you a headache. The travel aspect was less than fruitful.

But you were going to get there one way or another.

Taking in a deep breath, you gently pressed the off button on your device, sinking your body further into the couch as you allowed your body to finally relax. Your mind pondered of all the different options, from uber’s and cabs to all the different forms of public transport available. But as your unresting thoughts echoed around in your head, you finally concluded. A conclusion that churned your stomach, a fluttery feeling pricking the goosebumps along your chilled skin.

You could ask Bakugou for a lift.

Though this plan seemed faulty, a high chance he would decline the offer to attend the reunion filled with “extras”, you still had your hopes up high.

Out of all the people who could have moved to the same part of town as you, Bakugou was the one. It was pure coincidence that you both had ended up not too far from each other, a block away in fact. Though throughout all three years that you attended u.a you had barely spoken to him. You had your exchange in words here and there, the occasional insult would be thrown your way, but oddly enough out of all people in the class, you received his harsh treatment the least. You just figured, he barley knew you so acknowledging your existence was a waste of his time. Yet his subtle acts of warmth towards you didn’t go unnoticed by your subconscious, a strange feeling invading your body. You developed feelings for the boy.

Shockingly, you found yourself attracted to him, even with the lack of a solid foundation for a proper friendship. You didn’t know what exactly enticed you so much, maybe it was his toned chiselled frame or perhaps his confident exterior. Whatever it was, it had your heart thumping faster at every glance you two shared, and the thoughts that lingered with these unexplainable emotions were even more hectic. It was as though every second you spent alone, confined by the four white walls of your room, you lay wondering of all you wanted him to do to you. A peak of curiosity soon turned into a full-fledged lust for him. The moment you batted your eyelids shut, you’d picture his muscular body towering yours, his hands pinning you down as he’d shamelessly make you a mess under his touch. A thought of him could make your entire body explode. It was all far too complicated for you to process.

That’s why when you moved to a new part of the city, in hopes to start work as well rid yourself of your weird infatuation, you went pale at the sight of him only a couple streets away from where you newly lived. You tried to convince yourself this was indeed a one-time occurrence, yet you’d see him again and again... and again. He most certainly lived near you, it was undeniably true.

Every time you’d return from work, shoes hitting the concrete sidewalk with an echoing tap, you’d always pass him. At first, you shared no words, not a single exchange between you two until one day he randomly spoke up. You remember that moment like the back of your hand, as though it happened just a few minutes ago. Admittedly, the conversation was nothing spectacular, but it still caused a rapid shock to strike through you as the memory of you exchanging numbers with him lurked your brain. The whole event was so bizarre and it still seems unreal now.

Snapping from your daydream, you came to a solid answer. This was probably the best time to put his number to good use. Unlike you, he had a car and could most likely drive you to where ever this reunion will take place... That’s if he decides he is going to attend as well. That’s where your plan seems to not be so successful.

Yet, you had no other choice. He was your best shot at finally getting a break from this borderline isolation.

Nervously, you picked your phone up once more, gently scrolling through your contacts until a familiar name was visible: ‘Katsuki Bakugou’. A nervous feeling burnt at the pit of your stomach as you anxiously went to type out a message. Your shaky fingers tapped the keyboard, with every additional letter that was added to your sentence, your heartbeat sped up even faster until you felt it pound against your ears. Who knew you could feel so nervous about a generic message... It was Bakugou you were texting after all. Not only was he known for being an uncontrollable hothead, but he was also the guy you often fantasied about. You were more than flustered by this point.

Finally, after rereading your message frantically over and over again, you hit send. You felt your heart quickly sink before a chill ran through your entire body. Now you play the waiting game...

On the other end of the line sat a pouting Bakugou. Just like you, he had received the same email, his face crinkled into a frown as he read the disgusting email present on his screen. Like he’d show up to watch a bunch of extras overly excited for no reason. The entire thought of a reunion made his blood boil. At the same time, however, he wouldn’t mind seeing a few faces.

Sure he hated the class, but there was no denying he missed the ‘old days’. He rolled his eyes and let out a huff, in complete annoyance at how soft he’d become. Was he really contemplating going to that shitty reunion? Apparently so, as he decided to type up a quick response to Iida's invite.

A thought he had tried awfully hard to suppress soon made its way to the surface. It was you. Out of all the people he’d want to meet at the reunion, it had to be you. Though he didn’t necessarily have to be at the reunion to view you.

Similarly, he found himself drawn to you for some obscure reason. All throughout high school up until now. During school, he would always gawk at the way your skirt swayed side to side as you walked or even the way you leaned against the desk arching your back most perfectly. It had Bakugous eyes adhered to you. He just wanted to run his hands across your entire body, his lips bequeathing marks on every soft sweet spot on your skin. You’d be his, the deep hickeys that scattered your delicious skin marking his territory. Never had he felt so sexually frustrated, desiring a person so bad it was making him lose his mind. He had better things to worry about, like brining the number 1 hero for starters, but no matter how much he tried denying his deepest desires they just wouldn’t leave.

He tried so hard, he even moved just to get away from you. Of course, that didn’t work, when he saw you strutting down the sidewalk, your clothes hugging all your curves in a way that made his mouth water. He wanted you, and he wanted you bad!

And Bakugou gets, what Bakugou wants.

Just as that memory swirled his mind, a ping came from his phone, the gentle vibration of the device in his palm breaking him from his fantasy. His vermillion eyes went wide as he glanced down at the notification that had just gone off. The name he wanted to see most displayed.

‘Hey! It’s [name], hope I’m not being a bother :) I’m sure you also received the email about the reunion party, I hope to see you there. That’s if I can get there... Maybe you could give me a lift? Don’t worry if you don’t want to, I understand!’

Bakugou bit his bottom lip as he squinted down at the information in front of him. As much as he wanted to agree, his pride didn’t permit him an agreement to your proposal so easily. Rather than cooperating the way he wanted to, he typed out a message juxtaposing his real desire.

And there started your exchange in messages, the back and forth and your “convincing” to give you ride. Though we all know Bakugou was going to give in to it either way.

Weeks had passed since then, the texts that followed after between you two was kept to an evident minimum. The only exchange included a catch up on your plans for the reunion and that was about it. You were more anxious by the day, knowing the reunion date was coming closer to existence.

Next thing you knew, the day had arrived.

You were seated in the passenger seat of Bakugous car. Nervously, you shifted in the leather seat, hand resting on the inner door handle as your eyes followed the passing trees that came in and out of view.

The sky was faintly clouded, a ray of golden sun piercing through parted clouds, dripping a soft sunset hue over the ivy leaves of the trees. You sat inside the car, yet you remembered the faint chilly winds that caressed your skin. Overall, the weather was decent, far from perfect but not awful either.

The tranquillity that filled the car was apparent, the most noise that was present was the hushed sound of the radio playing, the music placid. It only intensified the awkward silence that was held between you both.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you spoke up in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “well, aren’t you the conversationalist” you spoke sarcastically, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Though you spoke suddenly, Bakugou didn’t seem to divert his focus from the road. His face stayed in its usual state, not even a smirk dared to spread across his lips. Clearly, your playfulness was not reciprocated. The silence engulfed you both for a while longer before he finally responded. His reply was less than adequate, a simple hum.

You shifted your attention back onto the view outside, watching as the car drives deeper and deeper into some sort of forest. The trees grew larger, the suns light being swallowed by the towering greenery above. Cars began passing more infrequently until you had not seen one in ages on the road that had become more narrow.

It felt like you had been in this car for an unbearably long amount of time. You couldn’t tell if time was just moving slower than usual at how bored you were at this very moment in time or if your destination was farther than you expected.

Pulling your phone from your bag that rested atop your lap, you checked the time.

‘6:23 pm’

It was confirmed that time was just moving awfully slower than usual. You had only been in the car for a little under 15 minutes. There was still a fair amount of time left until the party started, so there were no worries on being late though you still had quite a few kilometres to cover. Relieved, you placed your phone back into your bag. You slowly let your eyes rest shut, hoping a quick nap would pass time more sufficiently.

And as you had just calmed your nerves enough to sleep, your body suddenly jolted forward. Your seatbelt immediately binding around your chest, pressing your body flush against the seat as you braced the impact of the sudden stop of the car.

“For fuck sake” Bakugou finally spoke up as he kissed his teeth, gripping the steering wheel remarkably tight that his knuckles were becoming white.

“what just happened?”. Out of curiosity, you questioned the man, his face now looking more annoyed than ever. His hand fiddled with the car keys, the engine roaring repeatedly as he tried turning the car on. “What does it fucking look like, dumbass?” he barked at you, still frantically trying to turn the car on. It didn’t help that he had now started slamming the steering wheel between each attempt.

“Are you out of gas?” You spoke up innocently. There was no denying you were now, in fact, feeling less hopeful that you had enough time to make it to the reunion.

For the first time, he finally made eye contact with you. His rose eyes staring at you in frustration, in complete disbelief at how oblivious you were.

“Of course not! You fucking moron, the shitty car just broke down” He barked at you before flinging the car door wide open, slamming it with a harsh bang as he made his dramatic exit.

You watched him pace up and down with distinct stomps, muttering something under his breath while typing away at his phone. Taking the hint, you exit the vehicle as well. “So, what now?” you irritate him further with your persistent queries.

“How the fuck is there no service? HOW AM I MEANT TO GET THIS SHIT FIXED?” his yells echoed through the vast scenery that surrounded you.

With him stressing, you couldn’t help but taste your mouth go dry as panic began settling in as well. It was no use having the two of you in a frenzy. Rationally, you walked over to Bakugou, your phone gripped in your hand as you formed the only logical suggestion. “Try my phone”

He didn’t even question or ridicule your suggestion like he probably desired to, instead yanking the phone out of your hand and attempting to dial-up a number. It didn’t take long until his eyes rolled back in failure and his jaw flexed with gritted teeth. No luck there either clearly.

“Guess we aren’t going to the shitty reunion. You're fucking welcome!” He yells once more, slapping the phone back into your palm. The worst somehow ended up playing out, complete defeat washing over your body.

Resting against the car, you dropped your bottom lip into a slight pout, the chilly air growing cooler.

You were in the middle of nowhere, the only form of transport for miles was now down and to top it off you were getting cold. Your body rapidly began to shiver, goosebumps pricking along your exposed skin.

“Aren’t you fucking smart” Bakugou scoffed as he stared at you, arms crossed over his broad chest. “didn’t even bring a jacket while wearing some stupid dress”

Rather than yelling like he had been doing for the last couple minutes, he was calming his nerves by teasing you. It may have been the adrenaline that made him feel so open to being more playful, or maybe he attempted to distract himself from how much of a loser he currently felt with a broken car. Whatever it was, he was now smirking at the girl in front of him, tantalising her about the cold.

“I didn’t know I’d be stuck outside, did I?” You teased back, rolling your eyes at him. The fact he was being so calm on the outside was making you feel less worried, yet more nervous at his sudden change in mood than anything.

His eyes stared you up and down, analysing your shivering state as the wind began picking up. Another sigh left his parted lips before resuming to speak. "Go sit inside the car. No use shivering like a dumbass if you can't handle a bit of wind" he chuckled slightly as he spoke, as though to assure you his comment was in fact not as rude as he intended it to come out.

Though you obeyed, taking careful steps around the car to sit back in it, you decided to throw your own snarky remark his way. "Not one to talk when you're wearing a jacket". You give him a 'look', before fully submerging yourself in the cars shielded warmth. It may have broken down not too long ago, but it was still well heated. An instant chill rolled down your spine as your body quickly adjusted to the sudden change in temperature.

"Sorry, princess. Didn't realise I had royalty as company". That devious smirk sprawled itself across his tanned face as he followed your move, getting in the car himself. Something about the way he addressed you made you quiver, the innocent word was also oh so seductive. That sudden feeling of arousal pent up inside you, fogging your thinking.

"I- don't get too cocky now". Your reply came out as a jittery stutter, senses overwhelmed by his playful tone that had you heated. Senses scattered, too flustered by his seemingly unintentional words. It's not like he knew about your fantasies of him or how your sinful thoughts begged for him to call you such names. And now as you were in the midst of it all, you couldn't help but lose yourself.

He let out another husky laugh. The way you broke apart at the simplest words only stroked his ego. No denying he purposely chose those specific words to see how you'd react, and to his surprise, it went far better than expected. "Here, have my jacket then if you wanna keep yapping about it"

Speechless, your vision was once again fixated on him. Gawking at the leather jacket that slipped of his physique, revealing his toned, muscular arms. You swallowed the nervous lump in your thought down, butterflies invading your system as you watched.

You expected him to carelessly throw the jacket your way, alternatively he leaned over. His significantly larger body mounted over yours as he placed his jacket over your exposed legs, instant warmth tickling your chilled skin.  His hands felt so smooth as they lightly brushed against your thigh, the accidental touch shooting straight to your core. It was humiliating at how quickly you discomposed around him, cheeks red and breath hitched. You just couldn't help it, a presence like his was way too intense. Especially, at this moment.

"U-um, so what are we going to do now?" you try to change topics as you felt your current heated state become far too overwhelming, whole-body hot as your thoughts began drifting to all the wrong places.

He peeped his eyes, as though deep in thought."Wait until someone hopefully passes, I guess?". The uncertainty in his tone had you feeling concerned again. The worry bombarding you, diverting your inner emotions elsewhere. You've wanted to meet your classmates so vigorously for ages, all fired up for weeks as you obsessively counting down the days, only for this to happen. Not a single car had been in view for ages, god knows until the next one would come. That's also assuming that the car would even stop for you two. This was so disappointing, a hollow feeling in your chest as you sulked.

"I guess? For god sake, we aren't even going get to the reunion in time!"

Bakugou had noticed your sudden change in mood. In all honesty, he didn't quite understand why you wanted to see those annoying dickheads anyway, but he felt strangely sympathetic towards you. "Oi, I'm fucking sorry. I'll drive you to see your friends another time".

"What if there isn't another time?" you mope at him, facing your body towards him. He doesn't reply right away, mirroring your actions instead to examine your current behaviour. There was no way he could make this situation better unless the car magically fixed itself. Which to be fair, would never happen. As his eyes scanned you, he noticed the way you were still shivering, the once heated car losing its warmth. It was his best shot at diverting the conversation.

"You're still shivering, dumbass". His red orbs were fixed on you as he reached out his arms towards you. They felt considerably warmer than you as they rested on your shoulders. You followed his gaze that watched his own hands as they rubbed you up and down carefully. The slight friction between his hands and your skin bringing you some heat. It only sunk in then that his large hands were tracing your arms, his warmth transferring to you. Flusters took over your sense again. As much as you wanted to speak up right now, you knew you'd only choke up on your words, far worse than your stutters. As your stomach swirled, you felt ardour rush to your face. A rose haze coated your skin, eyeing the way Bakugou rubbed his hands against you.

"Looks like you've warmed up, that's for sure" he grinned at you, noticing the way your chest began rising and falling, heartbeat thumping rapidly. The way your face flushed scarlet as your eyes danced around your atmosphere, all at his touch. He noticed it all. And boy was it rubbing his ego.

"I-uh, yeah. I mean- no?". Your words came out jumbled, unable to form proper sentences when his ruby eyes finally gazed up at you. The mysterious glint in them made you feel overwhelmed, unaware of what move he would make next.

"So you need to be warmed up a bit more, huh?". His hands swiftly grazed your arms, just about hovering over your soft skin. Careful touches traced it, your words departing from your brain. The entirety of your focus was on the way Bakugou's fingertips tickled you delicately, the electric feeling flowing throw you. "Speak up for me. Do you still need to be warmed?". He snapped you back into reality without warning, only to put you in a trance again. The way he spoke with such dominance, demanding for you to speak, only stirred your imagination further. You had pictured moments like these so many times, him ordering you to do as he says. And as these thoughts rushed to the surface, you started to feel heat build between your thighs.

"Yeah, sorry!". Frantically, you attempt to respond, a nervous giggle followed your sentence as it came out of your mouth. "If that's what you want, princess". He emphasised the nickname, his lips curling into a sneer as his hands began to wander. The soothing touch travelled upwards, his hands gliding over your skin, one resting on your warmed rosy cheek. His sudden action had your breath hitching. You'd portray such touches numerous times yet nothing could have appointed you for this moment as your nerves fell apart.

As you tried to ration the situation out in your mind, his eyes finally locked with yours. The intimate stare had you holding your breath. Gently, he massaged his thumb against your cheek as he slowly moved his hand to the back of your neck, chills dripping down your spine. His eyes flickered between your eyes and mouth, hinting at a kiss. Was he going to kiss you? You must have been dreaming or something. But it was all happening, right now. There was no time to contemplate the event at hand. His face was edging closer to yours only inches apart, his proximity to you titillating. As you waited for his lips to finally come in contact with yours, you began losing patience. It's like he purposely was a millimetre away from your lip just to taunt you. You took in one more breath, easing your nerves before crashing your lips against his.

Your initial cold shivers were a way for Bakugou to change the subject from his broken car, and it all had worked out in his favour. Admittedly, this was not the outcome he was intending for, but he was not complaining either. He was finally able to seel a kiss with a girl that had invaded his thoughts for years. A dream come true if you will.

His tender lips felt so soft against yours, the sweet caramel taste engulfing your senses as they oozed from his lips. The once overwhelming anxiousness that had you falling apart beneath his touch was now easing as you melted into the passionate exchange between the two of you. Bakugou's lips moved in sync with yours, sucking and tugging at your bottom lip hungrily, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His pearly whites sunk into your bottom lip, giving them a smooth tug before sliding his warm tongue in. As he did so, his hand explored your body, slowly descending down the side of your torso, gripping you tightly. His other hand, that had itself placed at the back of your neck, suddenly wrapped around your throat. A rough squeeze was given, encouraging a gasp to erupt from your voicebox. His unforeseen move made you feel sensitive, clenching your thighs together to relieve the desperate ache between your legs. The warm wet muscle that had slipped inside your mouth earlier adventured in your mouth, swirling around your tongue and trailing every inch. It all felt so unreal.

Suddenly, Bakugou pulled away with a string of saliva connecting you both. His hands were still firm on wherever they were on your body. Through parted lips, he panted as his gaze darted. "Fuck, looks like you got me warm as well now". His signature smirk was back, his hand that held you by the neck pulling your face closer to his. Vermillion eyes analysed you, watching the way your face was flushed, lips were wet and lipstick was smudged. Realising he probably had some red on his lips as well from your makeup, he brought one hand to his face, wiping his plump lips with the back of his hand. The image before you only made you wetter, thighs already tightly clutched. And as though he could read your mind, he brought that same hand down to your thigh with a slap. The impact of his hands against you instantly shot to your soaking core, though the actions didn't hurt you much. You felt a tingling sensation to dance across your skin. Rubbing the impacted area, Bakugou continued to look at you, his eyes occasionally diverting to were he was soothing your thigh. His hands began needing your thigh higher and higher until his fingers dipped into the gap where your two thighs made contact. Teasingly, he drove one thigh from another to part them. "And you're definitely warmed up now, baby". His words insinuating how flustered you were.

He brought his lips back to yours as he worked his fingertips up your leg. His touch was so close and you felt so sensitive, you couldn't help but let out a shaky moan into the kiss. You wanted him so bad, craving to feel every inch of him against you. Your hands eager, you brought them up to his shirt. Clenching your hands around the piece of fabric, you tugged him closer to you, the distance between you two unbearable as you sat in separate seats. Your actions brought him to a sudden pause, causing him to pull away. "Are you that desperate for me?". His seductive tone made your face heat up and even more aroused. By now, you sure as hell knew your cunt was drenched. "You want me so fucking bad, don't you?". His hand was back in motion, fingertips almost touching you through your underwear. All you could do was moan in response as you craved his touch. "I can't fucking hear you". He taunted you once again, before his fingertips finally stroked your wet panties, massaging your folds through the cotton. You felt your breath tremble as he applied gentle pressure.

"Y-yes, I've wanted you so bad for a long time". Voice unsteady, you could just barely articulate. You felt the way his fingers caressed you through your underwear, index finger circling your clit so that the fabric would trigger your sensitive bud. Another moan emerged out your lips as you took in a profound breath. "I can tell. Your fucking soaking and it's all for me, babygirl". His cool breath trickled down your ear as he murmured against it.

You couldn't bear it anymore, the distance practically eating away at your patience as sexual frustration overflowed your senses. His fingers continued to shower you in affection but it was no longer enough. You needed more. "Please, Bakugou. I-I want you so bad right now". Hitched breaths and shallow moans rolled off of your tongue as you spoke, Bakugou's eyes sinful as he observed you.

"You'll have to be more specific than that". The same mockeries filled your ears, craving to see you flush as you spoke of all your desires, embarrassed by their explicit nature. As he awaited your response, he slowed his movements down, only teasing you further as it stript you off the pleasure you so desperately yearned for. "Shit, I want to feel you. I want to be closer- please".

The words dripped from your mouth as though it was second nature, the thirst for him more than unambiguous by your needy state. With that, his hands left your core, the cool air surrounding you as his warmth departed. You watched him carefully with longing eyes. The way his cherry centres locked on you as his grip came to your waist. His firm hands grabbed hold of you as he granted your wishes, placing you on his lap.

You sat on top of him, his toned legs holding you up and his hands pursued your body. The way your thighs rested atop his, your sensitive core throbbing against his hardening cock and the way his palms massaged your curves felt all so surreal. Subconsciously grinding against him, you felt his cock brush up against your folds, and with every stroke of your hips, the friction was shooting an electric buzz through you. "Didn't know you were such a needy slut for me". He purred at you with that deriding look in his eyes, smirking smugly. All you did was hum in return to his taunts.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you lingered your fingertips along his neckline, gradually pulling his face in for another kiss. Devouring each other's lips once again, Bakugous hands slipped beneath your dress, lifting it to loosely drape around your waist. Your legs fully displayed, the frigid air hurried to leave goosebumps along your skin. Resuming his excursion, his fingers wandered back to where they seized you previously. As he leaned into the makeout, he rested your back against the steering wheel before tearing away from your mouth. Keen set of eyes watching you."Tell me exactly where you want my hands to go, baby. Your lucky I'm willing to take directions". For a moment you realised the exception he was making.

Bakugou was known for listening to no one but himself. So the fact he considered something like this, even if it was during an odd time, spoke volumes. It only stabilised, if not boosted, the feeling that you harboured for Bakugou. Yet there was no time to ponder over his actions. You hesitated to respond at first, slightly embarrassed to provide him with an answer.

"I want you to touch me". You deeply flushed at your reply but Bakugou only squinted at you. "Babygirl, your such a needy bitch but won't even get into specifics. Come on, you can be open with me". His words only strengthened the blush that overlaid your skin to deepen, if that was even possible. Even in your profoundly flustered disposition, you needed him and retaining your mouth shut was not an option.

"Bakugou, you know what I mean. Here". You childishly whine before grabbing hold of his hand, guiding it to your heat. His firm hand was resting on your bound cunt, not making a single move but rather looking at you intently. "Good enough" was his only response.

Swiftly, his slender fingers submerged under the fabric of your underwear, coming in contact with your wetness. The suddenness of his actions provoked a gasp to emit from your mouth, his fingers already exploring you. The feeling of his warmth travelling tenderly up and down your folds, with the occasional attentiveness to your clit made you squirm as you sucked deep breaths in. Your chest came up and down as air raced to pervade you, your moans getting gradually louder as you rubbed and arched against his touch. His attentive touch began centring more on your delicate bud, picking up his pace as he soaked in the sight of you falling apart atop him. Your heavy breaths and moans that filled the air and the way you desperately moved against every circular motion of his finger. Fuck was the sight something he had dreamt of for so long, and it was far better than he imagined. "You fucking like that huh?" he uttered through gritted teeth as his face crept closer to yours, observing the way you tightly squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropped open.

"Shit, yes. Just like that" your breathy response came out as just above a whisper, too caught up in the pleasure of his touch. And just when you thought it couldn't feel any better, you felt his two fingers slip inside you. Your warm pink walls instantly sucking his fingers in, frantically tightening against them. A lusty moan shot out of your mouth, the overwhelming feeling of him fully submerged within you, pumping in and out. His fingers curled to hit just the right spot before you could fully adjust. The sensation was all too much and you felt the desire consume you. Panting and moaning, you could barely make sense of your surroundings as he didn't hesitate to advance his movements by pumping harder and faster, your wetness trickling down his bronzed palm.

His pace only intensified, his fingers gliding in and out of you, rubbing against your contracting walls that made your stomach burn. Burn in a way that made you almost lose control as it tied knots in your abdomen. Every spot that made your body arch against its will, legs jutting and twitching, he hit it all. And just as you edged nearer to your orgasm, moans building up at the back of your throat, ready for release as your nails dug into Bakugou's forearms. He came to a sudden pause, retreating his fingers, now soaked in your juices. You felt the dissatisfaction of his lack of attention, yearning to be touched again. Thick pants filled the car as Bakugou smirked at you and at the way you couldn't help but grind against him to supply for his loss of attention towards you.

"Princess, you didn't really think you'd get it that easy" he spoke tauntingly, rubbing your thighs as he trailed kisses on your collar bone. He'd wanted to mark up your delicate skin so many times, his presence forever embedded on you. Sinking his teeth on your flesh, he sucked and licked it, earning a soft moan from you against his ear. The tickling sensation of your breath against him accompanied by your lewd noises only hardened his growing erection. The restricting tightness of his trousers becoming infuriating for the boy.

He left mark after mark, immersing in the way you rubbed and groaned into him. "Bakugou... I need you. All of you.". Your words were like music to his ears, a combination of sounds he'd wanted to hear for so long. You begging for him to please you, make you his. It didn't even take him a second thought to know what he wanted to do to you, almost agreeing instantly. "Show me how bad you need me then". The challenging statement made you feel more heated, already in complete aw at the way his lips marked your skin.

You gently pushed him off you, pressing his back into the black leather seat, planting a delicate kiss on his lips before ducking between his legs. The position was cramped, the compact space of being under the steering wheel, legs crossed as you shifted your body further back until you could feel the disengaged pedal of the vehicle.

Bakugou sat with eager eyes on you, waiting for what you'd do next. To be honest, he felt uncomfortable at his lack of control at this very moment, already plotting how he'd regain it once more once he caught onto what your plan was. "Is this your way of proving yourself" he snickered at you, your hands on his belt, the clinking of the metal drowning out his voice. Through the material of his trousers, you could see the outline of his bulge, tight around the fabric restraints.

And just as you went to undo the restraints, unravelling the package that was contained, your head had hit the soft padding of the steering wheel. The sudden beep of the car horn went off, alarming the two of you. "What the fuck," Bakugou spoke up first in confusion. The car had obviously broken down only a few minutes ago yet it had finally decided to cooperate and disturb your guys' self-indulgence.

"Perfect timing" You giggled as you let your hands fall from his belt, slightly disappointed by the interruption. You wanted to continue this fantasy, see where it would take you both but you had other priorities on your mind as well. Like getting to the reunion for starters."Don't look so distressed, baby" Bakugou spoke softly as he lifted your chin, admiring you and the marks he left all over. "We will finish what we started, after all, I've been wanting this for so fucking long" He admitted and you couldn't help but redden at his remark.

You delicately slipped from under the wheel, dragging your dress down to cover your flashed skin. "I'll be looking forward to that then" You fire your own flirt his way, tipping over to leave a gentle peck against his lips before cleaning your lipstick from his face. He responded with a scoff and a rolling of his eyes, diverting his attention to the road to start driving again.

"I would say cover up the hickeys, but I want all those damn extra's to know who you belong to now" He smirked giving you the side-eye. Only then did you notice your wrecked state, desperately trying to fix your appearance in the small overhead mirror.

Bakugou steadily drove to your destination as his large hand rested on your thigh, you both wondering where you'd finish this excursion...

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