#he's the reason it's had to go up on the shelf

[livingformintyoongi]

A Taste of Something Sweet | Kim Taehyung

Summary: The calendar finally marks February 14th with a beautiful, shiny red heart. Love is in the air, and every couple in Korea seems to be showing their love publicly — everyone except you, who had resigned yourself to spending the night alone with a bunch of snacks and cheesy romance movies. Or at least that was your plan before running into Kim Taehyung in the convenience store line. Author’s note: Okay, sooo, while I keep working on Yoongi's request (I swear I'm almost done!), I brought you a little present to make up for my absence in this place ;) Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader Word count:  2.7k Status: Unedited Permanent Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee @angellekookie @madussthougths  @yoonkooks-yn Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

You wrapped your arms around your waist as you felt a strong gust of wind hit your body; the snow covered the ground, lightly touching your shoes with each step you took. Your hands, wrapped in thick wool gloves, protected your hands from the cold winter of Seoul.

You could glance at the people around you warming their hands under their partner’s pockets, holding coffee mugs in matching sets, turning into shy smiles that made their faces flush, completely forgetting that it was the middle of winter.

It’s not that you hated happily in-love couples, you loved love, the idea of feeling so much for someone, trusting a person enough to give them your heart. You were happy for those who had found their other half. But that didn’t stop the slight sting in your chest whenever you thought about the fact that, in your almost 30 years of life, you had never experienced something like that.

You had loved, yes, you had kissed, you had experiences with other men, but you never had a serious relationship. You had never shared a home with someone, never felt your heart race until your chest ached, or had your breath taken away by a simple look.

You only had the luck of experiencing light crushes, but never real love.

That’s why February 14th was such a depressing day for you.

Your emotions felt as gray as the sky resting above you, and your heart felt as cold as the snow under your feet. How much longer would you have to wait to find your special someone? How much longer should you wait before you could give yourself completely to someone?

You were a patient person, but your hopes were running out, and your idea of love was fading with them.

You let out a soft sigh as you entered a convenience store. You decided to ignore the fact that a couple had just shut the door in your face because they were too distracted with each other. The whole store was filled with pastel pinks, and there were hundreds of chocolate sale signs on the shelves.

You walked up to one of the shelves and grabbed as many chocolates as you could. If a man wasn’t going to come give you your favorite chocolate, then you’d buy the whole shelf for yourself. You filled the little basket with chocolates, cookies, marshmallows, and everything that could make for a cheesy and boring romantic movie night, because, well, you loved reminding yourself just how alone you were.

It wasn’t until your basket was on the brink of collapsing that you walked to the checkout line, observing how every customer in front of you seemed wrapped in a romantic bubble, kissing on the nose and gazing at each other with a special sparkle in their eyes.

You just stared at your chocolates in silence, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as discomfort took over every corner of your body and mind. You couldn’t wait to get home.

“Do you have some kind of polyamorous relationship or why are you buying so many chocolates?”

You almost let out a scream when you heard the deep voice whisper from behind you. For some reason, it sounded too close, too hoarse, had he leaned in to whisper in your ear or had you just started imagining things after so many years of being alone watching romance movies and drowning in hundreds of pages of equally cliché books?

The correct answer was probably the last one.

“N-no, I don’t have a polyamorous relationship,” you turned to look at the man who had just asked you the rude -or so you thought- question. But it was hard to speak, or think, after seeing his face.

Never, in your whole life, had you met a man as attractive as the one standing in front of you right now. He was tall, with caramel-colored skin, dark, big eyes beautifully framed by uneven eyelids; his blonde hair gracefully fell over his forehead, and his heart-shaped lips could melt any girl with just a glance.

Oh, had you been staring at him all this time?

You closed your eyes for a second, your cheeks turning a deep crimson. You had just been staring at him with your mouth open for longer than you should have, and now you didn’t have the nerve to face him without dying of embarrassment.

“You’ve got enough to feed an army,” the handsome man shoved his hands under the pockets of his jacket, staring at your face as if he had nothing better to do with his life - though, if we’re honest, he had nothing else to do, at least not while he was waiting in line to pay.

“They’re for me,” you muttered quietly, completely avoiding looking into his eyes. You didn’t want him to see the reddish tint on your cheeks, didn’t want him to think you were crushing on him. “Today is my… my RMMN.”

You turned to look at him after he didn’t respond for a few seconds, only to find him staring at you with a furrowed brow and his head tilted.

“RMMN? What’s that?”

“It’s short for romantic movie marathon night,” you glanced at the snacks in your basket, feeling a bit sorry for yourself. You had just taken half of the chocolate shelf only to watch movies about a romance you would never have, and now you had indirectly confessed this to the most attractive stranger you’d ever seen.

“Oh, I get it,” he nodded slowly, looking around the store in a silence that, for you, was very awkward. “Does your boyfriend usually leave you to pay for the snacks alone or was he just too busy to come?”

You blinked in confusion, taking a moment to process his question. Did you seem like someone who would have a boyfriend? I mean, you doubt a woman with a partner would come alone to a convenience store at almost seven on Valentine’s Day.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you took a few steps as the person in front of you started talking to the cashier to pay, “RMMN are precisely because I don’t have a partner.”

You felt your heart leap as you heard a rough chuckle escape his throat. At first, you thought his deep voice was because he had been silent for so long, or something like that, but now you couldn’t help but think that, in reality, his voice was naturally deep.

Whoever this guy’s partner was, they were really lucky. The very idea of waking up next to a man this handsome, who would whisper a “good morning” to you when you woke up… it was like a dream.

You mentally slapped yourself when you realized you were starting to imagine things you shouldn’t. He was a random guy you just met in the store line, and he was talking to you because he was being kind. He wasn’t interested in you, you shouldn’t be imagining scenarios that didn’t belong to you - especially when he was probably taken.

“I guess I’ll need some advice for my own RMMNs,” he shrugged lightly, observing your face so intently that you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

Had he just indirectly told you he was single? Could you count that as a sign to test the waters? God, you didn’t even know how to flirt, when was the last time you did? You couldn’t even remember.

“The first step is filling my pantry with chocolates, I guess,” he gave you a soft smile, one that, if it was even possible, made him look even more beautiful than he already was. He reached out next to your face, pulling out three chocolate bars and adding them to his basket.

You couldn’t help but take a look at what he was buying. A toothbrush, some ramen, drinks, and a bottle of wine. Oh, and now the chocolates he had grabbed from the shelf next to yours.

“What’s next?”

You stared at him silently, almost smiling despite yourself at the friendly tone he was using to speak with you. You deeply appreciated that he hadn’t mocked your Valentine’s plans.

“I guess you should pick the movies you’re going to watch,” you stepped forward as the person in front of you finished paying, placing all your items on the counter to check out. The smile on your lips seemed impossible to remove, and you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or excitement.

“Any recommendations? You’re the expert here.”

You tried to ignore how he stepped out of his place in line to stand next to you, grinning to the side, as if he knew exactly what he was doing, as if each comment was perfectly calculated to get a reaction from you.

He was succeeding.

“M-my favorites are… uh… 10 Things I Hate About You, He’s Just Not That Into You… I also love Pretty Woman. You know, classics,” you pulled your wallet from your bag with slightly trembling hands, and you couldn’t contain the awkward laugh that came from your lips. Why did you have to act so uncomfortable? “Though there are also modern romance movies that are pretty good, like everyone but with-.”

You froze in place as you felt Taehyung’s hand on your wrist. He made a gesture toward your things, pulling out his card to hand it to the cashier.

“I’ll pay for this,” he placed his things next to yours, smiling at the cashier with tight lips, “Could you add this too? Please.”

It took you a moment to shake off the shock, shaking your head before looking at him with pure horror. You had a lot of candy and snacks, you didn’t want someone you just met to pay that much for your little indulgence.

“Hey, there’s no need, I can pay for it,” you murmured quietly, not wanting to draw attention from anyone else but him. All you got from him was a smug smile and a raised eyebrow. It was more than enough to leave you silent and not question him again.

“I believe it’s a gentleman's duty to pay for the purchases of such a beautiful young lady,” he placed his hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you away from the counter. The cashier had already scanned all the items, though you could tell her attention was fully on the two of you.

She had heard it too, right? She heard him just call you a beautiful young lady.

“Here,” he said softly, extending his card to the machine’s sensor. You didn’t even manage to stop him, not when you couldn’t process everything that was happening.

You had gone to a store to buy food for your movie night, the most attractive guy you had ever seen in your life approaches to talk to you, and then starts flirting with you? Because that’s what he was doing, right? What other reason would he be paying for your things? What other reason would he call you that? It made no sense!

“Did you come by car?”

It took you a few seconds to respond, shaking your head sharply, “N-no, I live in the buildings across the street.”

He nodded silently before taking the bags with your purchases in his hands and starting to walk toward the exit. It wasn’t until he noticed you weren’t following him that he turned to look at you.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go,” he gestured with his head, pointing to the glass door with a big sign at the top that said “Exit.” Was he really going to carry your bags now? Seriously?

“You don’t have to do this, I don’t want to be a bother,” you quickly approached him, saying a soft “thank you” as he opened the door for you to pass through. You felt a chill run down your body as you returned to the cold winter air. You had completely forgotten what time of year it was.

You had forgotten many things talking to this guy.

“It’s no trouble, believe me,” he hid the lower part of his face under his green and red striped scarf, somehow highlighting his large, curious eyes, which quickly scanned the place with expectation, “Where do you live? I’ll drop you off at your door.”

You opened and closed your mouth more times than you could count. You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to let him help you or not; wasn’t it too soon? Was it really okay to invite a complete stranger to your home? You had done it before but… for some reason, this time it felt different.

“Oh, if it bothers you for me to drop you off at your apartment door, I can accompany you to the lobby,” he gave you a soft smile, as if he knew that would be enough to calm the panic in your mind, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head.

For some reason, that made you feel even more embarrassed than before. Was it that easy to read you?

“Alright,” you nodded slowly, looking down at your wool-gloved hands. You lived less than five minutes away, it wasn’t even the right time to have a conversation or do anything other than walk and completely avoid any kind of eye contact because he wasn’t taking his eyes off you, and it was starting to make your nerves tingle.

This last part was a bit more personal, but it perfectly applied to the situation.

You did exactly what you had planned; you stayed silent, walked with your gaze fixed on your boots, and avoided any interaction with him. Although you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep talking to him about anything.

The walk, though short, was enough to make your heart race and your mind run wild with a million different scenarios. It was hard not to when his shoulder brushed against yours with every step he took, how you could feel his gaze on your profile, how you could catch a glimpse of that smile he had given you in the store.

You wanted to control your mind, you wanted to convince yourself that he was just being nice, but he made it so complicated.

“This is it,” you said quickly as you reached the lobby of your building. The security guard was standing to the side, watching your interaction out of the corner of his eye in case something suspicious happened – basically, doing his job – and your companion was just looking around the place with curiosity, as if it was interesting to see mailboxes full of debts, bills to pay, and wilted plants in the corners. Maybe, besides being handsome, he was lucky enough to live in a better-kept place. “Thanks for helping me with the bags... uh…”

“Oh, right, sorry,” he let out a short laugh, shrugging slightly when he realized you hadn’t exchanged names yet, “I’m Taehyung, Kim Taehyung.”

Damn. Even his name was attractive.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you returned the smile, carefully taking the bags from his hands, making sure not to bump into him too much. You didn’t want your heart to race more than it already was.

“Aren’t you going to tell me yours?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. You couldn’t help but swallow when you saw him. It was incredible how easily he could make you nervous.

“Y/N,” you answered softly, adjusting the weight of the bags between your fingers.

You noticed his feet seemed ready to turn around and head to the door, and you could swear he said something before turning his back, but your mind was too distracted to pay attention to whatever he wanted to say.

You were too busy debating with yourself to understand.

“Wouldn’t...?” you swallowed, feeling your throat dry up in an instant, causing your voice to come out rougher and shakier than before, “Wouldn’t you like a cup of coffee?”

You felt your heart stop when you saw him turn back toward you. You could see how his eyes widened, how his steps came to a sudden halt, as if you had caught him by surprise, as if he hadn’t been able to predict the offer you were making.

But that expression was quickly replaced by a bright smile and a look full of that playful glimmer you had seen so much during this time.

He looked... cute.

“I’m not a fan of coffee,” he replied teasingly, turning his whole body to face you. He took a few steps closer, just enough for you to hear him whisper, just enough for you to feel the soft scent of his perfume. “But I might accept a cup if it means spending a few more hours with you.”

Masterlist.

[zolass]

Detectives Attraction Ch. 08 Top Male Reader x Male Yandere Harem

It took a while to finally continue writing as my mood literally hit the ground, with all the stress and drama so it took some time to write again and finish the chapter. It's also not long but yeah at least something.

cw: none 1.4k words

The wooden door was pushed open harshly, making it slam against the shelf right beside the entrance, and a man stepped into the dark decorated office space. “So now we’re allowing cops into our clubs? Letting them snoop around?” the man clenched his hands into fists in anger. “What about that pathetic excuse of a commissioner? What was his name– Hayes?” a bitter scoff left the brown haired man, as he let himself fall into the leather chair across the mahogany desk.

Across from the man sat a platinum blonde man– his shoulder length hair neatly styled, while his grey eyes stared at the papers spread across the desk, “We’ll see how far Ana will lead him and– where. It might benefit us, Rhys– so let’s simply wait and see,” the blonde’s voice was deep and smooth while his words were laced with a hint of amusement, instead of anger.

The other man was fuming in anger as he glared at the wall, while his hands were clenched into fists. “Why don’t you go over and share– a quick talk?” 

It wasn't even twenty four hours later as M/n stared at his phone screen with the messenger open. He didn't even have to ask her how she got his number– if Adrian could simply get his address, how hard would it be to get his number– possibly not that difficult. 

On the screen were the details for the meeting listed, first M/n simply thought about just not going– how desperate does he have to be to simply meet up with a criminal to get information? 

Yet as the time from the meet up edged closer, M/n couldn’t help but still be conflicted, was it really the best decision he could make? Well he’ll simply find out the hard way– if every lead he has was destroyed up until now? What else could he do until another case which might not even bring any new or old leads?

M/n simply had to see if this woman had anything useful for him.

The sun was already setting as the detective got into his car, started the engine and drove off towards the spot where he would meet the red haired woman. The window was down, letting the cool air blow into the car and through his hair while his e/c eyes were focused on the road.

M/N’s finger tapped the steering wheel in the rhythm of the music coming from the radio, while he jotted down in his mind all the possibilities on how this could turn out. Most of them were bad– as he couldn’t really see a possibility of not getting stabbed in the back, especially by a criminal, who seemed to know how she had to play her cards to land in her favor— and her favor only.

Trust is something that’s either strong or a mere fragile thing that’s only a one way street. And M/n was someone who hardly puts his trust on another person that easily, it was a harsh environment where you can’t put your trust on just anyone– might be a reason why the detective was rather working by himself than with someone else hanging by his side. 

So when he slowly hit the brakes and came to a stop in front of a simple apartment complex– he was surprised to say the least. M/n couldn’t lie and would've expected more of a cliche in the sense of a warehouse. 

When he stepped out of the car, the door to the apartment complex opened and out came not only the red haired woman but a blonde woman was close behind. “Knew you would show up,” the red head leaned against the frame of the door, while the blonde leaned lazily against her side, as if she wanted to melt into the other. M/n only shrugged as he slowly stepped closer, “Might as well risk it,” was the only verbal response he gave, as he stopped at the steps leading up towards the door. 

“I’m Ana, I forgot to mention that yesterday,” the woman noted, before she gestured with her hand towards the blonde, “My girlfriend, Fiona. She’ll be there too,” Ana informed M/n before the couple walked in– followed by the detective who had put some distance between them, while being close enough to keep them in his view. 

Reaching the second floor, M/n saw the couple stop in front of a door– while Ana simply unlocked the door and walked in, the blonde woman Fiona simply threw him an all-over glance before she rolled her eyes and  simply walked in behind her partner. The detective was the last one to enter– ignoring the nasty glare he got from the woman. He was already expecting with maybe a gun pointed in his face, but instead he was met with an open living space. 

The space was decorated in a mix of dark and light colors– like cream, beige and a darker gray. The typical he would say, but there were a lot of green and red decorations which added a pop of color. On a dark grey couch was Ana seated, while the blonde woman was sitting on her lap, not sparing another glance at the man while she seemed more interested in her nails. 

Ana simply gestured towards the plush armchair, in which M/n sat down while keeping his eyes and mind focused, “What do you have for me– which would make this meeting worth its while?” he simply asked, making the woman across from him raise her eyebrows in surprise, “Jumping straight to the point, interesting,” the red haired woman grinned, while a small scoff left the other female, which M/n simply ignored.

“Yes, so what do you have for me?” he leaned back in the armchair, “You’re looking for the ones that are responsible for your murder cases right?” a short nod from the detective, “Well I do have some informations that could be useful for you– but what’s there for me to gain?” Now it was time for Ana to lean back, her eyes focused on M/n while her hands were focused on Fiona. 

M/n couldn’t help but chuckle, “We both know all I can do is not going after anything that might have to do with you–” he let his pointer finger circled near his head, “After all you’re living in the undercity and yet you’re able to afford a rather nice interior and far more security than others in this part of Noxhaven. You have money and it didn’t just drop from the sky into your lap, you’re a criminal after all so you probably have your little ways of living comfortably,” M/n pointed out. 

Ana only shrugged, “Is that really everything? If so– I might keep that request open to anything I might need your help with in the future,” the red head mused, before she let out a sigh and then a smile formed on her lips, “Do we have a deal? You owe me a favor in the future– whenever I see fit, and I give you a little help which might give you a lead on your cases again.”

Yeah, he was indeed desperate to get information.

Sitting in his car, in front of a – new to him – building, M/n had to think if it really was such a good idea after all. A sign hung at the front ‘Fight Club’ were the bold letters making M/n only raise an eyebrow as he was told the fighting clubs for the undercity were in tight wraps – didn’t look like it. M/n stepped out of his car, his hand moved to his pocket that held his cigarettes, contemplating if he should have a small smoke break before stepping foot into the building.

But he decided against it, wandering through the doors into the rather silent warehouse. It was a large open space with a fighting ring in the middle, the stands were empty but the lights were on and shining brightly down onto the middle. E/c eyes took in the new environment, a slight unsettling feeling formed in his gut – he was definitely not alone. Which proved to be right, as a deep voice reverberated in the large open space, “Well, well, well– seems like one club wasn’t enough for you to snoop around, detective.” 

A man with short dark brown hair slowly stepped closer to the light, from the far left corner. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that framed his muscular body, dark pants and shoes, while a silver necklace and earrings glinted in the low light, giving the clothes a small additional touch. When the man halted in front of the ring, all M/n could see was the smirk that slowly formed on the others lips.

“Looks like it's finally time to put an end to this.”

[ronearoundblindly]

hey! fic title: we want what we can’t have

Hmmmm, this makes me think of like a parasocial online relationship, and you know, if it's online, I'm going with our boi, Jakey... From this ask game.

Jake Jensen x influencer!single mom!reader

Not really any warnings except Jake is a liarliarpantsonfire.

It started over at his sister's house. His niece loves to watch DIY videos on Youtube, and you're pretty big with kid-friendly projects that you and your daughter do on camera.

At first, Jake is so focused on not spilling a full jar of glitter across the table and carpet that he didn't notice you were very easy on the eyes, he didn't pick up on the slightly adult, double-entendres you laced in, and he didn't appreciate the stare-at-the-lens moments reminiscent of Jim from The Office.

By the third video though, he absolutely sees the appeal...even if it's not for the same reasons as his family. He's crushing hard, fast, and that was before he found your Twitch stream!

Jake could not care less if you're good at the games because he loves to hear your unhinged laugh when something goes awry. Pretty quickly he finds himself playing your videos while gaming himself and responding to questions you throw out into the void of the internet. No, you can't listen or answer, but IRL social interaction is not his specialty. He's enjoying living vicariously through this stuff.

He actually comments sometimes, not often though since he can see how inappropriate some guys (and girls) get with you in the stream. He knows he's too awkward to make a great impression in the midst of all that, so he keeps it light.

Jake is, however, in complete denial of how bad his crush on you is getting over the many, many months he dives deeper into your 'fandom.'

Once, when he found himself yet again watching a craft video with his niece, he responded without thinking. They were on the porch, squinting at a propped up tablet in the sun, and he quickly typed "me and my girl are loving this!"

Harmless enough, right? Sure, but then he got a ping back.

Be sure to send me a pic of the finished product.

So he did. He laid the two papers beside each other on the glass tabletop and snapped a shot.

😍 Whose is whose, I wonder...

So Jake had his niece hold up hers as he posed with his, ballcap, glasses, graphic-T, and all.

Someone else answered--oh man, is dad single???? --but you liked that comment and responded with a simple "my thoughts exactly 🤭."

He's in too deep now; he wants to talk to you. Jake types those fateful two words.

He is.

It's not strictly a lie, but he in no way corrects the mistaken interpretation. He cannot give up the opportunity.

So he takes some more goofy pictures in front of the wall of art in his niece's room, and you gush about how cute it (and he) is, noting the soccer trophies on one shelf.

Jake proudly tells you all about her many successes in private messages on Twitch [idk how twitch works just go with it if that's wrong], and you mention recognizing his username. There isn't a chance in hell he's letting go now. Guess he's a dad. Cool. He will literally do whatever you vaguely insinuate you want him to do, be whoever you seem to want him to be, anything.

It's still a lie though, and Jake even goes so far as to refer to his niece specifically as 'his daughter.' He's outright lying now, and he doesn't care. He keeps lying, and it spreads to lying to his sister once you announce a summer series of videos--you're taking your daughter to all the largest play grounds in the nearby states, one of which is 30 miles from his sister's place.

Jake floats the idea of taking his niece on this very specific day, says it can't be any other day, and fibs that it's because he'll be gone for work before and after. He messages you the good news that you can meet...if you're okay with that, and he's thrilled when you excitedly announce the girls can meet. Everyone will have so much fun; he's counting on it. Only thing Jake doesn't do is lie to his niece because he knows if he does she will immediately call bullshit and blurt out the truth.

So she's allowed to say 'Jake' or 'Jakey' but he asks her not to call him 'uncle.'

The whole day goes flawlessly, and only like 35% of what he says is effected by dishonesty. He is away a lot for work. He does wish he got more time with, uh, the girl over there playing with your daughter. That girl's mom is absolutely wonderful and they used to live together, technically, a long time ago.

When his niece calls him 'Jakey' in front of you, it's pretty easy to brush off. He's right, there is that age where kids rebel that way, and you remember when your daughter threw her first "no, mother" at you in defiance.

He leaves with your cell number and a long, lingering hug.

Jake's on cloud nine, as is his niece, so he thinks he's gotten away with it, texting with you frequently until days later when he's already deployed with Clay and the team to the other side of the Earth.

Why would my kid be saying that you aren't Cheeky's dad??? She said you STOLE HER FOR THE DAY. Jake, that is your real daughter, right? This is a joke, yeah? Answer me! Did you lie to us?!

No matter what he says, it's over though. He doesn't know how it came up, and his niece did not call him her uncle. Instead, he finds out she mentioned "Jake's not my real father but my mom loves him" which is doubly terrible. You're convinced she's his step kid, and Jake was somehow cheating by talking to you. Admitting he lied but not that bad doesn't help.

All conversation ends when you tell him to lose your number.

How could he possibly fix this?

⬆️⬆️⬆️ how i imagine y'all are about to come at me ⬆️⬆️⬆️

[hello-my-name-is-aves]

Thursday Sanegiyu AU Meet-Cute writing exercise? I think so.

In another life, they met the way that people usually do. Simply by happenstance. Two paths that had no reason to cross, but somehow did. 

“Would you fucking watch where you’re going?” 

It wasn’t the smoothest of first meetings. 

Giyu blinked in surprise, looking up at the man he had run into when rounding the blind corner of a shelf in the bookshop. He was glaring at Giyu, more fiercely than the situation warranted, surely. After all, the man wasn’t the one that had been knocked flat on his ass. Ouch. His ass that was probably bruised from its crash landing on the floor. Plus his elbow. He frowned and rubbed where it had clipped the corner. 

“Shit,” the man sighed, anger giving way to exasperation. He rolled his eyes (violet-gray eyes, Giyu noted, such a unique color) and reached a hand out to Giyu. 

Giyu looked at the proffered hand. It was a sturdy hand, broad palm, calloused, riddled with scars. Giyu stared at it, oddly fascinated, and hesitated – a moment too long, apparently. The man made a disgusted sound and reached further, snagging Giyu’s arm, grip firm around his bicep. He hauled him to his feet. Which put them standing far too close. Close enough to smell cedar and pine scent coming off his skin, earthy, crisp, a little spicy. His aftershave, or maybe his hair product? Not a bad smell. Really good, actually. Somehow familiar, giving rise to a sense of fondness that made little by way of any sense. Giyu felt a bit of warmth in his cheeks (standing here smelling a total stranger, stop being weird) and stepped back. The man let go of his arm. Strong hands, Giyu thought, feeling the ghost of it lingering on his skin. 

The books, Giyu realized. He looked down at the ground between them. His book – a fantasy novel that was too thick for its own good – was lying amid a litany of bright covers about… Flowers? Giyu bent down and started gathering the books, looking at their titles. An identification field guide for local wildflowers. A guide to gardening and horticulture. A botanical history book. And even a cookbook that seemed to focus on using edible flowers and herbs you could grow right in your own yard. 

Hm. Not a selection of books he would have guessed would interest someone like…like… Well, he didn't know why he thought that. It just didn't seem like a good fit. 

“They're a gift,” the man said gruffly, as though he’d seen the skepticism in Giyu’s expression, though Giyu was sure he hadn’t made a face. The man crouched down to pick up the last two books Giyu hadn’t gathered yet, then they stood. “I've got a friend, her birthday is next week,” he lifted the books, “She's into flowers and plants, all that green thumb bullshit.” 

Ah. That made sense. A friend. Giyu felt a bit of satisfaction knowing his unfounded instinct for the man’s interests had been correct. Could he guess what the man’s interests were with as much accuracy? Probably not, but maybe if they had a chance to talk for a few minutes. Over coffee, or dinner, or–

“Are you a damn mute or something?” 

Abrasive. Impatient. A rough voice that matched his scarred skin. Very scarred. Hands. Arms. Face. More? And all of it somehow…endearing. His expression was sliding back into glare territory, now, though. Giyu supposed he ought to try to diffuse the tension growing in the line of the man's shoulders before he started yelling. 

“Of course not,” Giyu said, “Here are your books.” 

The man made a sound like a scoff, then gathered the books out of Giyu's arms, skin brushing skin where their hands briefly collided in the exchange and Giyu’s heart rate, usually very slow, very steady, skipped.  

“Be more careful,” the man grunted. He half turned, hesitated, looked like he had something more to say, considered, then shook his head once, chaotically styled silver hair falling in his face and he stepped around the corner. 

Disappointment. 

Illogical. Insensible. Undeniable. 

Giyu’s feet were moving before he even really knew why. He scanned the shelf that the man had been looking at before Giyu had run into him, finally finding what he was looking for. He quickly went around the next corner in the direction the man had gone. 

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find him. With his silver hair and solid build, he had a presence about him that stood out. Not at all like Giyu, who felt that he melted into the backdrop of any scene he found himself in. 

He’d stopped in front of a selection of books on lepidopterology – butterflies. 

Giyu cleared his throat as he approached the man, and he looked over his shoulder. 

“You again?” He asked. But Giyu didn’t think he sounded upset. 

“This is the one you should give to your friend,” Giyu suggested. He extended the book he had taken from the shelf. A memoir, threaded with personal stories, the journey of a woman who dedicated her life to her passion for and study of flowers. “My brother’s girlfriend loved this book. She’s also into all the green thumb bullshit.”  

The man looked at the book, then back up to Giyu. He really was very striking, Giyu decided. The kind of man that made an impression. Giyu had known him for all of five minutes – he didn’t even know his name – but he felt…fascinated. He wanted to introduce himself. He wanted to ask questions. He wanted to read the man like he was a book off one of these shelves, flip through his pages, memorize his lines, reread him again and again until he knew him by heart. 

“Thanks,” the man finally said, accepting the book. And looked away. 

Okay. Giyu sighed. That was it. He didn’t want to be an annoyance. There was nothing more to be said. Time to walk away. He turned, ignoring that his feet felt like lead, ignoring the tugging pull that urged him to turn back, ignoring the impulse to be brave, to put himself out there, to listen to whatever foundationless gut feeling was telling him that there was something here, some potential, some connection. 

Probably all in his head. 

“Hey–” 

The voice stopped him in his tracks. 

Giyu turned back. Cautious. Hopeful. 

“You come here very often?” the man asked. 

Giyu shrugged. “Often enough,” he said, reining in the fluttering at his pulse, the twist in his stomach.  

“Happen to know if the cafe is any good?” He jerked his head in the direction of the little in-store cafe and coffee shop near the entrance. 

Giyu raised an eyebrow. “It’s good. A little overpriced, maybe–”

“What isn’t these days?” the man snorted. 

Giyu felt the barest hint of a smile threatening his composure, and nodded in agreement. 

“You hungry?” the man asked. 

Giyu considered. Not really. He’d eaten a late breakfast, and it was barely past eleven.  

“Sure,” he said, “I could eat.” 

The man sighed, a deep, disgruntled sound, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was getting himself into or why. “Great,” he said and started walking in the direction of the cafe with his load of books. Giyu followed a step behind. The man threw over his shoulder, “my treat, since I knocked you on your ass – even though it was your own damn fault.” 

Snarky. Guarded. Self-conscious about kindness for kindness’ sake. Fascinating. 

A few steps later the man asked, “You got a name?”

The smile pulled at Giyu’s lips. Names. A good place to start. The title of the book. 

“Giyu,” Giyu said. 

He watched the man process his name, a slight nod like it was what he expected, like it was a good fit for the person it belonged to. Giyu wondered if this man’s name would be the same. 

Please tell me your name…

“Sanemi,” the man introduced himself. 

Sanemi. Giyu rolled the name around his tongue, silently tasting its shape. Sanemi, Sanemi, Sanemi. 

A good name. A fitting name. A name that matched the man it belonged to, most definitely. 

“Nice to meet you, Sanemi,” Giyu said. 

Sanemi just made a somewhat agreeable sound in return. Not overly enthused, not outwardly, but Giyu didn’t think he was imagining the rose dusting the man’s cheeks. 

Nice. Giyu ducked his head, the smile finally breaking through his stoicism. He wasn't sure why. It made no sense whatsoever… But for meeting Sanemi? The word didn't seem to remotely begin to cover it. 

END

😌 I never get tired of AUs. I love them to absolute death.

[ourceliumnetwork]

me, the symptoms experiencer, experiencing symptoms: wow gee i wonder what the fuck is happening right now i have no context for why i could possibly feel bad, surely i'm not experiencing symptoms. me, when i figure out it's the symptoms:

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[smile-files]

today i'm going home so i can get my flu shot and vote with my family... hopefully both go well

[halfgirl-halfdolll]

You always try so hard to hide when something's bothering you. You're so careful not to let your phone unlocked and out in the open, you try not to let your eyes unfocus as you think about whatever's bothering you; you work so hard to keep being productive despite your sorrows.

But they know you better than yourself, doll.

They see how your shoulders tense up whenever you leave Price's office and how you're always so wary of your surroundings, looking this and that way, waiting behind walls to avoid certain people. You can't hide your fears from them. Not from them. Not from the ones who were placed in this godforsaken world to protect you no matter what.

Figuring things out is easy. There's a reason they're a special task force. Swooping your phone from you is as easy as stealing candy from a little kid, and so is unlocking your phone (you need to be more careful about your passwords, love. Really? Your childhood's dog birthday? That's like basic information for them).

And when you come back to the room, flustered, fretting over your phone, it's there: on Price's desk, as if it was untouched. They hide the anger caused by their discoveries behind clenched jaws and hardened eyes and wait until you leave to begin discussing their plan of action (it's cute how you still look at each one of them to make sure they didn't see a thing).

Love, why didn't you tell them? Why did they have to search through your messages to find the reason behind your sadness? Don't you trust them? They're your guard dogs, doll, why don't you just order them to maul and gnaw and rip to shreds whenever you need?

It took them breaking into your phone to find out about the Sergeant who's been messaging you. They could read the suspicion behind your words as you accused him of pranking you after he asked you out.

Pranking you? Pranking?

They read the following messages, where he admitted to his lies – it was a bet, he said. Some friends had bet a good amount of money that he wouldn't be courageous enough to ask you out and then stand you up. He then had the gall to thank you for believing his words and going to the date. For dressing up "weirdly" and being delusional enough to think someone like him would be interested in you.

"just an advice: putting lipstick on a pig doesn't work lmao thanks for guaranteeing me the money tho" he had said.

Seeing red wasn't enough to describe how they felt.

Soap could barely stay still. He leaned his weight on one foot and then the other, itching to run as fast as he could until he found the bastards that dared to insult his bonnie. He needed to feel their bones giving out as he punched them into a bloody pulp. He needed to scream, to let you know that you were too good for all of those scumbags, that he and his mates were the only ones who could appreciate you, touch you with the reverence and devotion that you deserved.

Gaz felt like he failed you. The sourness of his anger mingled with the bitterness of his sorrow. He swore he could taste his emotions on his tongue. He always makes sure to tell how beautiful he thinks you are, how lovely your uniqueness is to him – his little porcelain doll he wished he could place on a shelf. To think some random man managed to hurt you and disrespect you under his watch... it was unbelievable. He would spend a lifetime spoiling you until you forgot about it. After he sunk his teeth into those men throats and ripped them apart, of course.

Ghost was the other side of Soap's coin. But while the Scotsman wanted to seek and destroy as quickly as they do in action, Ghost wanted cruelty. He wanted to take it slow, deliberate. One fingernail for every tear they made you shed. One bone snapped in half for every second you suffered due to their disrespect. If it depended on him, they would only live up until the clouds that covered your sun cleared up. There would be no surrendering, no mercy. You deserve thorough revenge, lovie. And only the muzzle that Price puts on his rabid snout can hold Ghost back.

Price wondered why you didn't tell them about this... incident. Why? Are you trying to defend those poor excuses for men despite how terribly they disrespected you? No, that can't be it. You're their angel, but he knows you aren't some punching bag. Are you afraid they'd agree with those bastards? At that, Price has to laugh. You're so smart, love, but so so blind. You still can't see how they could sell their soul to you, if you became a devil. You still can't see how they'd kneel down on nails and pray to you if you became a saint. After Price pulls a few strings and manages to get that scum dishonorably discharged, he and his muppets would have to work really hard on making sure you know you're the only thing that matters.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.

The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.

This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.

My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.

He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.

Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.

It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?

But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.

We used too much toilet paper.

We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!

Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.

So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!

When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!

Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”

Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.

[starry-bi-sky]

nobody is safe hahaha! trust me if i had the spoons for it i'd be replying to everyone's tags, i am delighted to reply to them

#I really like your description of a Fully Ghost Danny#I think it fits him

character design is my favorite thing ever. the outfits themselves im not too good at sometimes, but the physical appearances are like. my favorite thing ever. Coming up with Fem Danyal's design was a treat. I put a claw at the end of her braid and turned her hair into a rope dart, it was fantastic.

Danny's ghost being permanently 14 is so tragic to me, but the ide of his ghost form fluctuating between ages only ust hit me as I was writing it and I thought it'd be neat as fuck ldshf. What age he appears at varies by a lot of different things including but not limited to his mood and attention.

#I also love the whole ‘making his first death more tragic by making him younger when it happened’ thing#it always makes reveals that much more tragic and I am HERE for it

FAIR. I'll be frank I did it here just so that I could have Danny meet Bruce when he was 14/13 and give them more family bonding time, but I fr wanna make more aus where his first death happens when he's a little younger. I forgot that it was just a thing I could just do if I wanted, and its reminded me my Mockingbird Au from when I was still active in Maribat.

And its so tragic! and uncomfortable for the people around Phantom! I'm just imagining little 11-12yr old phantom in a hazmat suit that's clearly meant for someone bigger than him, some of it slightly shrunk to fit better. Maybe there's some tragic reasoning behind it like the heat of the portal melted the suit a little bit so it fits danny a little better but is still visibly too big.

(Aw maybe when he's really upset his suit start to get all melty? I've thought a lot about the more horrific aspect of being basically cooked alive in between the doorway of two dimensions. I have this image of the arms become charred and skeletal like when he uses too much of his powers. The sleeves of his suit melting off and onto his skin in plastic chunks to reveal black-charred skeletal arms and hands underneath. I'll spare details on what I think his face looks like, except for the idea that he loses an eye and can roll the remaining one between sockets)

And he's got these long, slightly droopy elf ears that look slightly too big for him, highlighting just how young he is. They move too, pricking up when he hears something, pinning back when he feels a certain emotion. And of course the standard cosmetic changes like the glowing catlike green eyes and fluffy white hair that flicker and moves like an aurora borealis at the tips. And of course, the glowing star freckles.

Overall, him just blatantly looking like a child. It's a constant punch in the gut that this honest to god dead kid is the one protecting the city from harm.

#I also love that even though this is a ‘bad’ ending it still leaves us with a more bittersweet feeling than a depressing one

its about the clossuuurrreee.

#I wonder how the batfam would react to his age fluctuating tho#and how he was already halfway dead long before he fully died

confusion and heartbreak! someone would ask and danny gets all sheepish. he weighs his pros and cons and then reveals his Tragic Backstory™ and the Accident that turned him into a halfa. He explains he used to be a hero in his hometown, and that his godfather -- the one that poisoned him -- was his arch-nemesis.

Which, everyone just listens to with intent horror. It's like listening to a tragedy after its already long passed. A child hero -- first killed by his parents' irresponsibility -- murdered by his arch-nemesis, who happened to also be his godfather. He didn't have anyone to keep him safe; he was completely alone.

What's even worse is when Danny tells them that Vlad didn't even intend for Danny to die -- he poisoned him as a control tactic, but didn't think Danny would actually run away.

the guilt is thick in the air.

#I wonder if there would be a way for him to visit them/for them to visit him after the heroes get back to the living realm#like#maybe after the first incident some of the heroes get thrown back into the Infinite Realms#I’m not saying that it would be often#but it would definitely cause some angst and hijinks

i was thinking about this! I think it'd be kinda sweet. Danny doesn't stick around often, but Gotham has a few areas where the veil between the zone and the living world thins out. Once he learns where these shortcuts are, he occasionally pops by to say hi. Usually its only for a few minutes, and only if patrol is slow.

Occasionally he'll start showing up to specific world-ending threats, or if somehow a ghost slips through to the living realm he'll follow right after to curbstomp their ass back to it. Very specific mental image of this teeny 12 year old with stars in his hair cheerfully German Supplexing some Ares-wannabe ghost into the fucking pavement, before turning to the Justice League and saying "Hey guys! Don't worry, I've got this!"

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[tsukiflwr]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 .ᐟ THINGS ENHA DO THAT MAKES YOU SECOUND-GUESS YOUR 'FRIENDSHIP'

𝓅airing ∿ hyung line! enha x f!reader ᰔ 𝒽eadcanons ; fluff, friends to lovers, 𝓌: none that I know of 𐙚 𝓌c 1682 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. i did not intend for these to be so long ﹒ ꒰ 𝓁ibrary ꒱ + 𝓂aknae ver

LEE HEESEUNG ∿ being touchy

you were used to heeseung’s touch. the way he would rest his hand on your lower back to alert you of his presence, the lingering hugs where his hands would hold your waist, how he would wrap his arm around your shoulders whenever the two of you stood or sat next to each other, his fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes on your shoulder as he talked and laughed with your friends. 

and the little things like reaching over to put on your seatbelt for you, holding your hand while crossing the road or following the sidewalk rule, pressing his chest back up against your chest as he helped you reach for things on a higher shelf . . . they didn't seem so little to you anymore. 

the lingering hugs lasted longer, his arm that used to rest on your shoulders moved to your waist to hold you closer instead. He would play with your fingers when you guys would binge watch shows in the living room, he would rest his hand on your thigh whenever he sat next to you, playing with the hem of your top. His fingers would linger on your face to softly caress your skin whenever he would tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

he didn’t touch his other friends like how he touched you, he certainly didn't pull them to sit on his lap when he played video games like he did with you. Or how he would cuddle you on the couch as you watched movies, his fingers absentmindedly caressing your sides while he placed soft kisses on your cheek, forehead or temple. Yeah, he definitely didn't do that with his other friends . . . 

you knew that he was aware of how it was affecting you, and you also knew that he enjoyed every minute of it. giving you that innocent teasing smile when he felt your heartbeat faster against his chest, or when he notices that flustered smile on your lips. deep down you knew the reason why he touched and looked at you like that – and he knew it too. 

PARK JAY ∿ spoiling you

you noticed jay’s habit of buying things for you very early in your friendship. whenever the two of you went out to get food he always made sure to pay the bill, quickly grabbing it before you could even see the amount, waving off your protests with a sweet smile. even when you were the one to make the plans he always found a way to pay first. when you had brought it up to him he just gave you that smirk as he said “Is it so bad that I want to treat you?” 

when the two of you went shopping together, he always paid attention to the things your eyes would linger on but decided not to get it because it cost too much, sneaking the items in his basket to buy them for you, along with things he just wanted to get for you. he didn't even bother to ever look at the price tag, knowing that it was going to be worth it seeing that smile on your face. 

he would bring you home items from when he went on trips with his friends/family, he would come up with excuses like ‘i thought of you when i saw it’ or ‘it's just a little gift‘ and one that never failed to make you a flustered mess was ‘I saw it and knew you would look pretty in it’ he had to know he was making you feel things when he said things like that . . . 

you noticed how jay would always playfully complain about buying things for his other friends, saying that they could get it themselves, but with you he did it without a second thought. you weren't the only one to notice that. your fellow shared friends had noticed it too, and of course they had to tease jay about it. but he wouldn't let it bother him, he’d continue to spoil you, buying you anything that reminded him of you. 

you’d wake up to a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers outside your door every week, and almost every time you went to collect your packages there were always extra one’s, always with a sweet little note from jay ‘thinking on you’ ‘wear this tonight, i'm taking you out’ the gifts soon turned more romantic, domestic if you really think about it. but your relationship with him really changed once he gifted you that beautiful silver necklace with the letter ‘J’. 

he loved watching you absentmindedly fidget with the necklace as you happily talked with your friends, or how you would always admire how pretty it looked decorating your neck. he loved to softly tug on the chain to gain your attention, or to use it to pull you closer to him. he didn't care who the two of you were with, he’d stop in the middle of a conversation to reach towards your neck and gently pull the necklace that slipped under your top, adjusting it so the ‘J’ could be seen by everyone . . . you both knew he was irrevocably claiming you as his. 

SIM JAKE ∿ never corrects it when people assume your his girlfriend

you and jake have always been close, ever since the two of you met as young children – both of you were ‘forced’ to come along with your moms to a nice lunch between old friends. the two of you sat at the table, talking quietly and giggling as you raced each other to finish the mazes on the children's menus that were given. your mothers both smiling at the friendship blooming between the two of you. jake would refuse to admit it now, but his young self-did shed a few tears when he had to leave, not wanting to be away from his ‘pwetty friend’ 

as the years went on you only got closer with jake, he was your person . . . and you were his. but not only did he get closer to you emotionally, but also physically. and it was something that everyone noticed, the two of you grew up together hearing the hushed whispers of your moms giggling about how they would be in-laws in the future. So the topic of you two being together was something you were used to. 

it was a popular misconception – that the two of you were together. anyone would think you were – with how close, touchy, and the way you guys looked at each other. And jake ever the polite, would say “oh – no we're just friends”. . .  but jake found it unnecessary to correct the misconception as his feelings for you grew stronger. 

he liked to see the flustered smile decorate your lips whenever someone mistakenly called you, his girlfriend. he found it adorable how shy and awkward you would get, stumbling over your words. he also really loved that moment of bliss where he could fantasize that the two of you were together – that you were actually his girlfriend. that him taking you to that cafe you loved wasn't just a friendly outing but instead a date. 

you didn't know how to bring it up to him, that you noticed how he stopped correcting people, that he would always pull you closer to him when it happened. or how you noticed that big grin would always form on his lips after. that bliss you felt in that moment would quickly turn into confusion as your mind raced with thoughts on why he didn't correct them. 

was it because he was just polite, that he didn't want to make the person uncomfortable by correcting them? – you really hoped that it wasn't just because he was polite. You wanted it to be because he wanted you too – that you weren't the only one to have those silly little fantasies of the two of you together . . . 

PARK SUNGHOON ∿ being protective and possessive

one thing you admired about Sunghoon was how protective he was, to his family, to his friends, to you . . . with years of being best friends with him you didn't know why suddenly started to get so flustered whenever he got protective of you. maybe it was because his protectiveness was almost always accompanied with his possessiveness, and God was it hot . . . 

he always follows the sidewalk rule with you and walks you back safely to your car / apartment etc., he never sits with his back to the door when you are out at a restaurant, all he wants is you to be safe. at parties he always had his arm around your waist, giving his best intimidating look to any guy who tried to come up to you, and if you were at the party without him, he always made sure to check on you through the night, staying up despite the tiredness just in case you called for a ride home. 

he wasn't just protective of your physical but also your mental, he knew you better than anyone else so he could easily see whenever you were overwhelmed or going through something. he’d pull you somewhere quiet, he was there to listen to you talk about what's bothering you and giving you the best advice he could, and if you weren't in the mood to talk, he would do his best to distract you from your negative thoughts.

he sees your ex at a party? he's making sure he doesn’t come and bother you and get your mind all messed up after months of you getting better . . . he was very sensitive with you, especially if someone brought you up, he's always quick to shut down anything that's not appropriate. 

everyone always assumed that the two of you were together, he was always so touchy with you in public, he had a habit of scaring off guys who had taken a liking to you, he never shot down the rumors of you together, only making them stronger . . . at this point the only two who didn't know you were dating where the two of you 

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. HEHE ITS FINALLY DONE !! it honestly felt like I’ve been working on this for weeks (i have oops) the maknae version will be released tomorrow !! I now have a taglist, so please comment or send an ask in my inbox if you would like to be added (please specify what taglist you would like to be added too !!) @leehansdoll is the account I will tagging you with <3 ꒰ nav ꒱

which member was your favorite?

likes, reblogs, comments and feedback are heavily encouraged !

[applecidersturniolo]

forgot.

warnings: unprotected p and v

in which, fwb! matt “forgets” a condom.

“matt, you’re fucking kidding right?” you whimpered as you stared at the ceiling of your bedroom. matt groaned and patted around your bed, looking for something, anything, basically hoping that the latex would appear out of thin air.

“don’t you have some in your nightstand?” matt spoke putting his fitted hat backwards on his head, “we used the last one yesterday” you spoke softly. matt huffed, remembering that-that’s the whole reason he bought a whole new box after he left your place last night and where was it? sitting on his shelf, untouched.

“fuck.” matt cursed as he ran a hand over his face, though, he couldn’t help but smirk to himself, “y’know..you could jus’ let me hit it raw” matt spoke biting his bottom lip.

god, he was tempting. the knot in your stomach grew, usually at times like these you guys would just agree to get off on giving each other head but..you guys already did that, and both of your needs were still unsatisfied.

“ c’mon, sweetheart, jus’ lemme put it in, if you really don’t like it i’ll stop” matt spoke putting his hands up, as if to promise he will do whatever it takes to make you comfortable.

you sighed and slowly nod, “yeah?” matt smirked, “yeah.”

“fu-fuck! matt!” you moaned out, your back arched as matt’s big hands gripped your hips, the wet sounds of your pussy filled your quiet bedroom, “yeah? takin’ me so well, y/n.” matt praised.

your fingers gripped the white sheets, nose scrunching as you felt your climax teeter closer to the edge.

“gonna cum? i can tell.” matt moaned out as his pace became quicker. the overwhelming feeling of your slick walls sucking his bare member in was all too overwhelming. matt’s head fell back as he moaned out your name, you could feel his cock twitch inside you, signaling he was close as well.

“c-cum with me” you managed to choke out as your hands met matt’s shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

“where do y-“ “inside. cum inside me.” you intrupped, your mind was hazy, teeth clamped against your bottom lip. “you sure? you want me to fill you up? make you leak me out all night” matt’s mind filled with images of your pretty panties being stained with his cum, the fabric being soaked with your mixed arousals. “yes..yes matty please!” you pleaded. your eyebrows knitting together, legs straightening as you felt your limit up and coming, “go-gonna, fuck matt, i’m gonna-“

“do it. fuck! you’re so wet- let go f’me. cum, right now, baby” matt babbled, “best pussy i’ve ever had”

that’s all you needed to hear, your walls tightened around matt’s member as you both released.

heavy breaths filled the bedroom, you could feel matt’s cum leaking out of you, damping your thighs. matt ran his finger down your skin and shoved the liquid back in your aching cunt.

“such a good girl f’me” matt praised before kissing your forehead and laying next to you on the bed.

you glanced over at him and softly smiled, matt returned it and sighed, “should probably go..” matt mumbled. you simply nodded, matt got up and retrieved his boxers from the cold floor, slipping them on before his baggy jeans. as he buttoned up the denim and flatted out his pockets he couldn’t help but chuckle, he glanced at you, who was looking at your phone mindlessly, not thinking twice. “hey, y/n..” matt mumbled. you turned to matt, raising an eyebrow, “yeah?” you spoke softly. matt smirked and tussled with something in his pocket, pulling out the gold, unopened condom, that had been placed in his pocket the entire time. “found it.”

your eyes widened, “you knew?” you spoke putting your tounge in your cheek, blush creeping up on your cheeks. “maybe..maybe not..” matt spoke with the biggest grin on his face.

oh, you were gonna kill him.

A/N: ahhh!! first post about these two ‼️ hope you enjoy! if you have any requests or asks PLEASE FEEL FREE TO INBOX ME!!! i love you guys so bad 😛🫵🏼

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[tojbnuy]

cupcake (1)

mechanic!toji x baker!reader

art by @_jtvll

there was a child grabbing your pant leg. your hands were full to the brim with trays of cupcakes, all freshly iced and ready to be placed into neat rows to serve. you usually hate this part of your job and the small hand stopping you from walking was not helping.

‘hey uhm could you maybe let go?’

you still were unable to look down at the person/thing(?) grabbing a hold of you as the trays in your arms were stacked far too high.

‘right well okay’ and you had to resort to placing the cupcakes on a nearby shelf. upon looking down you saw.. a baby? well a toddler? you didn’t know many kids, with only one niece you would assume this kid was around about her age. 3 maybe 4? he still had a firm grip on the leg of your trouser and was smearing left over icing onto your pants from his sticky fingers.

‘cake.’ he said with pink icing stuck to his lips and chin. the boy was adorable. big sparkly eyes and black hair sticking out in every direction. he was wearing a shirt that said ‘dad’s best friend’ and tiny blue sneakers.

‘you want more cake?’ you replied and he was quick to nod his head vigorously, his hand Still gripped tightly onto you.

‘alright buddy i can give you a cake. but you really shouldn’t be behind here this is staff only. where’s your mum?’

you bent down to his eye level after retrieving a cupcake from your fresh batch and waited for any sort of answer. either he had no clue what anything you said meant or he was too entranced by the cupcake you were wielding in his direction but the boy said nothing, just stared at you with his massive eyes.

‘god now what do i do?’

you were fairly new to this bakery, it was a busy branch with a computer cafe joint on so there was always a large amount of people in store. and now you had to match one of them to this baby.

‘well you eat while i think.’

and the kid watched with a great level of focus as you peeled the wrapper of the cake off and handed him the little treat.

‘what’s your name baby?’

‘megumi’

‘wow that’s a cute name’

he clearly didn’t speak much and resorted to simply staring at you with his cheeks full of cake and even more icing decorating his lips.

you opened your hands to him in a way of saying ‘i’m going to pick you up now’ and when he didn’t seem to object you picked up the tiny boy and placed him on your hip.

‘don’t worry i’ll make sure you get back to your parents.’ again met with radio silence.

‘dada’

‘oh you came with your dada?’

‘dada.’

and only then did you realise the boy was staring out the window at a black haired, clearly frazzled man.

‘megumi? megs buddy please come back now, fucks sake.’ the back door was shoved open and by instinct you clutched the small boy to your chest.

‘megumi oh my fucking- thank god’ and as the man reached for the boy you gently tucked him into your neck. the man immediately frowned and looked you up and down as you did the same. well clearly the boy must be his judging off megumi recognizing him and there was also the fact that they looked exactly the same. except this man was tall and handsome and built like a marble statue. but you still wanted to make sure.

you watched as said man eyed you up and down and for some unknown reason you were incredibly thankful you had worn makeup and washed your hair this morning. your work uniform was bland, a pink half apron and the same baggy jeans and white top you usually wore when you knew you’d be icing cakes instead of serving customers.

‘listen kid, thanks for finding him but i am his dad, look i’ve even got pictures.’

and sure enough he was whipping out his phone and showing you his lockscreen of the boy you were holding in the same shirt with a black puppy in his lap. he then proceeded to open his photos app and show you a few more, some dating a few years back to when megumi was only a newborn.

‘dada’

‘yeah look see i’m his dad’

you believed the man the second you saw his face.

‘right okay i believe you, i don’t even know how he got back here i just turned around and he was grabbing me asking for cake. oh and also im not a kid im 22.’ you felt the need to clarify.

he smiled at that and took his child out of your hands.

‘sorry about that, but i’m glad it was you he bumped into not some creep. i was holding his hand and then i look down and he wasn’t there. the things this boy does when he sees cake’

you laughed and went to pick up your trays again when a large hand grabbed your arm and turned you back.

‘ah wait doll i’ve got to you pay you for the damage this little brats done, and to say thank you.’ he stuffed a few notes into the pocket of your apron.

‘it was just a cupcake it’s no big deal’ you said as you tried to hand them back to him without looking incredibly flustered at the use of a nickname.

‘no i insist, you really saved my ass. you work here often?’

‘yeah i’m usually at the counter but sometimes i just bake and ice the cakes.’

‘well clearly this brat thinks you do a good job’

‘so that means you’ll be back again i’m assuming?’

he smirked at that and your eyes were immediately drawn to the scar decorating his lip. his presence was intimidating, you could feel your cheeks flushing at his intense gaze.

‘yes definitely, i actually own the mechanics down the road so if you ever have any trouble make sure you let me know i’ll do you a nice deal’

‘i’ll keep that in mind uh?’

‘toji’

‘i’ll keep that in mind toji. i’m y/n’

he swapped his son to his other hand and stuck his right hand out for you to shake. you palm felt small in his large veiny one, his skin warm to the touch.

‘pretty name.’ he was checking you out again and you felt so small under his gaze. this was wrong, he was older than you and most likely had a wife or a girlfriend or a long term ex. this was definitely not going to become anything. but that didn’t stop you from giving him a few cupcakes for the road.

[lxvvie]

Y'all know that whole trend that was going around social media with women calling their significant other by their full name? Yeah, that one. Yet another conversation was had, this time it was about the reactions your favorite babygurls would have if you called them by their full government name because of reasons. Maybe.

Capt. John Price - He's, uh, startled but not enough to drop his cigar this time. Does take a puff of it, though, before addressing you like it's the calm before the storm. Isn't too fazed because he heard it enough from his own mom growing up and he figures he's suave and diplomatic enough to placate you.

Gaz - Pointedly ignores you while giving you side glances here and there which is a major indicator that he's gotten into some shit. Probably. More than likely. Yeah... it was Soap's fault.

Alex Keller - Actually did get into some shit. Does not answer the call of duty.

Soap - You hear 'ah, shit', heavy footsteps, probably a crash, and Soap's peeking his head out from the other room. Has a deer-in-headlights look about him. It was Gaz's fault, goddamnit. He's so adorable. It's enough to make you giggle.

Ghost - You get a grunt. And then it hits him. He stops doing whatever it is he's doing. Fuck, he knows that tone. Simon turns to look at you and he stares into your soul or something like that. What in the hell kind of made-up middle name is that? You spend the better part of a good minute staring each other down before you're all, "I love you ♥️," and Ghost groans and rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. But not before he grunts out a "Love ya, too." in return.

Alejandro - This is one of the few things that'll actually faze the man. Will damn near break his neck turning to face you to see what's wrong and his eyes will be wide. Oh, the last time he heard his full name called like that was from his beloved grandmother and he'd gotten into some shit then, okay?

Rudy - Ducks his head. Doesn't show his face; he can't bear the sternness of your voice, your gaze. It wasn't him this time, he swears; it remains, though, the way you say his name, an echo in his mind: Ro-DOL-fo. Why'd you have the emphasize THAT part of his name, huh?

König - König.exe stops working. Actually does break something trying to get to you. His eyes are fucking saucers, okay? Oh shit, what did he do this time, Schatz? Are you getting him back after that one time he snuck up on you to surprise you and you dropped dinner? Did you find out about the time he accidentally messed up the laundry and the white clothes came out pink? WHAT DOES HE HAVE TO DO FIX THIS?! Oh, you... just needed him to grab something off the top shelf for you.

Horangi - Also did some shit. Is unapologetic about it. Hits you with a nonchalant, "Yeah?"

Graves - STAYS IN SOME SHIT, OKAY? Saunters in like the smug bastard he is. Smirks and winks at you. "Haven't heard that name in a while, darlin'. What's your fancy?"

Valeria - Pulls a Uno Reverse and calls you by your full government name. Wait―

[gloomwitchwrites]

thinking about the 141 when you get nipple piercings and they can’t touch your nipples for four months

For clarity, I do not have my nipples pierced. Don't ever plan on it, but we can imagine that we did and what the guys think. I did do a little research, and I saw a wide variety of healing times, so instead of four months, I kept any mention of the healing process vague. The concept is the same though. I had a lot of fun with this one y'all. Enjoy it. :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in four double drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, brief dirty talk, suggestive themes, swearing, fade to black

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"You're not putting a shirt on."

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re at home. And I want to see them.”

“I’m putting a shirt on,”

John is quick, snatching the shirt out of your grasp. You start to protest, but John tosses it onto the highest shelf in the closet.

“You’re childish.” You gesture at the rest of the shirts on hangers. “And I have other shirts!”

John shrugs. “I’ll hide them all.”

"I fucking swear, John."

"Or tear them all up."

You smack his chest but John only chuckles. He’s having a go at you. A laugh.

"If I can't touch them, then I bloody well better be able to see them."

"You're ridiculous."

John carefully caresses a nearby path of skin near the piercing. "You got them for me," he purrs. "And I want to see them on display at all times." His hand settles on your waist, drawing you in. He leans in, lips lightly pressed to your ear. “Especially when my head is between your legs.”

Heat rapidly warms your neck, heading for your cheeks. John notices your sudden flustered demeanor.

“That sound good to you, love?”

You nod, and John guides you to the bed.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"I can't touch them?" asks Kyle, sounding disappointed.

"Nope."

"Not at all?”

“Eventually. But not right now.”

Kyle frowns at your chest, his gaze on the shiny metal. "Do they hurt?"

You wince slightly. "Mostly sore. The pain killers help."

Kyle nods and then glances up at your face. "How do you care for them?"

You rattle off a list of things and then hand him the paper the piercer gave you. Kyle takes it, looking it over as you go over everything, repeating it verbatim.

The small frown on his face turns into an upward smirk. "I can help with this,” he says, voice almost sultry.

"You can," you say slowly, taking the paper and placing it on the counter.

"So I can touch them. If I help.”

"Not in the way you're thinking, Kyle," you scold, knowing exactly where his mind is drifting off to.

"But I still get to touch them?"

"Only to help me,” you correct. “Not for any other reason.”

He sighs, voice a little breathy as he speaks to himself. “I can wait to suck on those gorgeous nipples.”

“Kyle Garrick! I heard that!”

He snags the paper off the counter, hiding his grin.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Am I?”

"I can't touch them?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No, Johnny. Not even a little bit."

Johnny lays on his side facing you with one elbow propped under him. He rests his head in his hand. Johnny’s gaze is locked on to your bare chest and the new metal there. The piercings are only a few days old, and they’re fucking sore.

"They're sensitive right now," you continue, wincing slightly when you move, adjusting the way you recline on the bed.

"Aye. I see," he murmurs, leaning closer, gaze narrowing as he focuses on your new piercings. The middle of his brow creases as if he's intensely considering something.

"What is it?" you ask. "You look very serious."

Johnny's gaze doesn't leave your chest. "I'm thinking about all the ways I'm going to play with those beauties."

Heat rushes to your face. “Be fucking for real right now.”

His mouth morphs into a sly smile. Johnny’s gaze shifts from your chest to your face. “Need a distraction?”

“What are you on about?”

Johnny shifts, forcing your legs open as he slots between them. “A distraction,” he purrs. “From your soreness. And my thoughts.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands behind you, watching you in the bathroom mirror from over your shoulder.

"Do you need help?" he asks, gaze unmoving.

"I'm fine, Simon."

He is quiet a moment before he speaks again. "I can’t touch them?"

"Not for a month. Possibly more. Healing is different for everyone."

You hear his annoyed grunt but his gaze doesn't leave you. It remains firmly planted on your newly pierced nipples.

"How sensitive are you?" he asks, taking a tiny step closer. Simon’s hand rests on your waist as you gently clean around the piercing.

"I’m sore. Nothing terrible."

Simon's head dips, lips pressing to your neck as his arms drape around you. "I can't touch them." It’s not a question, more like he’s speaking to himself.

"Nope,” you murmur.

Simon’s sigh has a hint of a growl in it. "Just means I'll have to give extra attention to everything else." His hands descend, and you bite back a groan as he touches you.

Simon's lips press to your ear. "I'll give you attention everywhere.” One hand comes up to trace a line near the piercing. “Except here.” His hand drops away, returns to between your legs. “You’ll be begging for me.”

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