#well not 12 total hours it was very . interrupted

[boycritter]

i got like 12 hours of sleep that was so baller

[thriftedtchotchkes]

you're a mean one, mr. miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and ellie decide the solution to joel's grinch-like approach to the holidays lies in finding him the perfect gift

warnings: jackson era, grumpy old man!joel, significant other!reader, fluff, mild angst, gift giving, christmas at the miller's, so many polaroids

word count: 3.8k

12 days of pedro masterlist - ty to @hellishjoel for organizing this project <3

The Miller household always gets a little tense around the holidays. When the days shorten and snow begins to fall, Joel throws himself into patrols and plans for winter-proofing Jackson, and it's all he'll talk about for months. It's obvious he does it on purpose. 

Christmas is basically an unspoken no-no under his roof, and there might as well be a swear jar for the word if his reaction is any indication. He refuses to acknowledge it and only tolerates the day itself because he knows it makes you and Ellie happy. 

You just wish it made him happy, too. You know it used to. Every year, Tommy regales stories about their Christmases in Austin as kids, and later with Sarah. Joel loved Christmas. 

They used to visit the tree farm, pick the tallest, fullest tree they could fit in their living room, and decorate it the very same day. Their attic and even parts of their garage were home to lights and tinsel in every color you could think of, and ornaments Sarah brought home from art classes and the yearly holiday fair at school.

All of that changed after the outbreak. It wasn't just her passing that did it. It wasn't even the threat of death or worse lurking around every corner. It was time. 

Joel just got used to life without it. After 22 years of missed holidays, he decided he didn't actually miss them at all. He couldn't afford to spare precious resources or energy on anything that wasn't necessary for survival. But that isn't the point of Christmas, is it? 

You celebrate your loved ones and their joy. You celebrate life. Here in Jackson, he finally has all of that, but if Joel is anything, he's a stubborn man set in his ways. You can tell he's still resistant to the idea because he genuinely believes there are better uses for his time.

You can also tell he's afraid to let his guard down. You just haven't figured out a way to show him he doesn't have to be. No one's safety is guaranteed in the world you live in, but you're protected now. And that responsibility isn't solely on him anymore.

If you could give him anything for Christmas this year, it would be peace. One day, even just a few hours of tensionless shoulders and a wrinkle-free brow would be a gift for all of you. He deserves to enjoy something merry and cheerful again, just for the sake of it.  

So, you ask the person who knows him best in the world for help.

"What do we think about getting Joel a Christmas gift this year?"

Ellie glances up from her guitar with the most incredulous look you've ever seen on her face. 

"Depends. Do you have a death wish?" she jokes, draping her arm over her instrument so she's sitting more comfortably. She's settling in—you both know this is about to be a painful conversation.

"No, but—," you sigh, leaning against the door behind you. It's still chilled, even through your coat, from when you barged into the shed and interrupted her practice. "I don't know. He wouldn't make that big of a deal, would he? It doesn't have to be anything flashy, just something small. Something nice."

"So, you wanna get Joel something nice for a holiday he hates? That makes total sense," she says, rolling her eyes.

You don't appreciate the sarcasm, but you expected it. She knows as well as you do that Joel won't be thrilled by the gesture, if he even accepts it.

"El, come on. I could really use your help here," you try to appeal to the part of her that usually can't say no to you, and thankfully she's starting to cave. "If there's anyone who can come up with a present Joel will actually like, it's you."

She sighs. Her fingers drum an arrhythmic beat on the wood grain while she thinks, a habit she must've picked up from Joel.

"Look, Joel's not really a 'thing' kinda guy," she replies, and she's probably right. He's never been the kind of guy who has physical attachments. "When's the last time he actually gave a shit when something broke or got lost? Even his watch is broken."

"Yeah, but that's different. You know it's different," you counter softly. But you can see the point she's trying to make. "Okay, so we don't get him a 'thing'."

She nods, waiting for you to offer another idea, but you're even more stumped than you were when you got here. 

"Maybe you can draw him something?" you grimace, grasping at straws now.

"His house is full of shit I've drawn," she deadpans. "Plus, I thought this was an us gift. That sounds like a 'me doing all the work' gift."

You let out a frustrated groan, and your head thunks dully against the door. You knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but you thought it would at least be possible. Joel's a complicated man—it's one of the things you love most about him—but his wants and needs are surprisingly simple. 

He loves a home-cooked meal, especially meat and potatoes. He enjoys cold beers with Tommy on the porch during the summer and walking Ellie through complicated picking patterns when she's stuck on a song. He likes relaxing on the couch and watching old Westerns or cheesy action movies, and craves your body, soft and pliant, under his after a frustrating day on patrol.

But you want this to mean more than any of that. A special something that goes beyond the norm to loosen some of the springs that keep him wound up tight and constantly in motion. 

You glance around Ellie's space as your hope begins to dwindle, and the corkboard above her bed catches your eye. It's always been there, covered in doodled-on scrap paper and photos of her family and friends, and you're positive you've seen it hundreds of times since you've been in Jackson. But this time, it gives you an idea. The idea.

"That Polaroid camera you found in Eugene's basement—the one in the library. Does it work?"

Ellie's brows furrow at your sudden question. She clearly didn't expect it, but you're hoping she'll be on board once she finally catches on.

"Uhh, yeah, Cat and I were messing around with it the other day. Worked pretty well for us," she replies hesitantly, pointing at the entertainment console next to you. "It's next to the PlayStation."

Humming in response, you squat in front of the shelf to inspect it. It's in great condition, even better than you expected. Even the flash button lights up and whirs just like you remember. 

Before she can protest, you whip around and snap an extremely candid, brightly lit photo of her. If the look on her face is the same one you just caught on film, then you're already off to a great start.

"Dude, what the fuck? What was that for?" she groans in annoyance, blinking the bright spots out of her vision.  

"A scrapbook," you grin. "For Joel."

She's still glaring at you as she rubs her eyes, but she bites back whatever retort she was about to say. You watch her expectantly as she chews on the idea, relief blooming in your chest when she finally nods.

"I guess that could work," she says slowly, still thinking over the logistics in her head. But then she frowns. "When exactly did you plan on taking all those photos? Not to be a downer, but Christmas is in like, a week."

Damn, she's right again. It'll be hell in a handbasket to fill an entire scrapbook in that amount of time, and even if you manage it, it'll be a half-assed attempt at best.

No, if you're going to do this, then you're going to do it right. No rushed or slapstick presents for the man who already hates Christmas—Joel deserves better than that.

"What if we let Joel do his bah-humbug thing one last time? That's probably his idea of a perfect gift, anyway. Then next year, it'll be this," you hand her the fully-developed Polaroid.

It shows Ellie hugging the guitar Joel made for her, but there's no sign of the shocked annoyance that followed the camera flash. Instead, she's smiling. She has that rare, unguarded expression on her face, the one reserved only for people she trusts. It's a tender moment of peace, forever frozen in time.

She looks up at you, and you can see it in her eyes. She gets it, now.

"You do realize it's still a 'thing' present though, right?" she interjects playfully, and you have to resist the urge to grab the wood polishing cloth on the table next to you and swat her with it.

"Yeah, but it's a sappy thing. Admit it, Joel's a huge sap and you know it. You said it yourself, his house is basically a glorified fridge with your art magnetized to the walls."

She rolls her eyes again, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips. She knows it's true.

"So, you'll help me?" you ask, daring to hope that she'll agree.

"As long as you don't pull this shit again, I'll do whatever you want," she lifts the Polaroid, shooting you a dirty, but affectionate look before handing it back to you.

A grin breaks out across your face, and you bolt across the room to hug her awkwardly around the instrument still sitting in her lap. She places it down so she can wrap her arms around you properly. 

Physical affection has never really been Ellie's thing but if you catch her at the right moment on the right day, you might get lucky. Today, you do.

"So, when do we get started?" she asks, pulling away.

"Right now," you reply, unable to contain your excitement. For the first time in over two decades, Joel Miller might actually have a merry Christmas, and that's something to celebrate. 

"Now?" she gapes at you, looking over her shoulder longingly at her guitar as you drag her out of the shed. She barely has enough time to grab a coat before you're out in the cold with nothing but each other, a camera, and a plan.

"Now." 

ONE YEAR LATER

Jackson in the spring is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen, even among your memories of the world pre-outbreak. Snow remains on the mountain peaks in the distance, but the foliage below blooms with the promise of warmer weather. Somehow, you managed to capture it all—fresh flowers in the shop windows, friends and neighbors shedding their coats and congregating in the streets, and the post-winter excitement that spreads more and more with each sunny day. 

You hid the stack of photographs in an empty jumbo box of tampons in the hall closet, positive they’d be safe from Joel’s prying eyes while you and Ellie continued your mission.

In the summer, two new foals were born, and Ellie and Maria spent almost every day at the stables to help out where they could. They even named them—Shimmer was Maria’s choice, and Ellie named the other Callus just to piss off Joel. Not only did it work, but it resulted in some of the cutest pictures of the season. 

Joel and Tommy built a porch swing for Maria and their rambunctious toddler and spent countless balmy nights drinking Tommy's extra-strength whiskey and shooting the shit. They even broke out their guitars every so often and managed to bully Ellie into playing with them once or twice. You caught that on camera, too. 

Slowly but surely, the memory box filled up, and the photos were transferred to a scrapbook you and Ellie made yourselves—with a little local help. One of the school teachers happened to be a former librarian with a bookbinding hobby, and graciously gave you a treasure trove of old, tattered books that were perfect for your project. 

By autumn, everything was falling into place. Ellie adorned those pages with painted leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow to complement the photos you took at the town’s annual Harvest Festival and Thanksgiving potluck. You hopped around from booth to booth, table to table, and thanked your lucky stars that Eugene was a hoarder and held onto every pack of film he found over the years.

Now, it's the night before Christmas and you have a single shot left. One last photo intended for the final page, but you can’t think of anything you haven’t already documented. Looking around Tommy’s living room, there are plenty of moments you’d love to capture, and yet none of them feel like the moment. 

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays in the background while you sit on their couch, curled into Joel’s side with Ellie’s head on your lap, but you’re barely paying attention, still lost in your thoughts. Joel isn’t paying attention, either—he was unsurprisingly averse to the movie to begin with—so when you don’t laugh along with everyone else at the Grinch’s antics, he immediately knows something’s up. He kisses your temple, careful not to jostle Ellie.

“What’s got you so in your head you’re not even laughin’ at Jim Carrey? I thought you loved this movie,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His familiar Southern twang somehow warms you up more than the fireplace crackling next to the television. 

“I do. I think I’m just getting a little sleepy, is all,” you reply softly, sagging into him. “Winter dance prep sucked this week. It’s like everyone conveniently forgot they volunteered to help.”

He nods, mumbling an apology into your hair.

“Guess that makes sense. All that runnin’ around you’ve been doing with that camera of yours probably ain’t helpin’ either,” he says offhandedly, and your brows furrow in response.

It’s not the first time he’s mentioned your sudden interest in photography, but with his gift sitting less than 10 feet away under Tommy and Maria’s Christmas tree, it seems more than a little suspicious. You catch Ellie glancing up at you in your peripheral, and you meet her gaze as discreetly as you can.

“Yeah, maybe,” you laugh it off, hoping it doesn’t sound as tense to Joel’s ears as it does to yours.

“What are you doin’ with all of those photos anyway? I swear, you take ‘em and then they disappear into thin air,” he presses on, none the wiser.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you joke, shaking your head as if that’ll shake off all of his incoming questions. But it doesn’t work nearly as well as you hoped.

“Y’know, I was wonderin’ that myself,” Tommy interjects from the recliner to your right. “You’ve been takin’ photo after photo for almost a year, and I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”

Maria scoffs next to him, coming to the rescue before you’re forced to come up with a believable explanation. 

“Mind your own damn business,” she smacks him in the chest, then shoots you a sympathetic look. 

You asked for her help not long after you and Ellie started planning Joel’s gift, so she knows how important this is. The last thing she’s going to do is let her husband’s need to stir the pot ruin it. But Tommy’s not the type of guy to give in that easily.

“I’m just sayin’, might be nice take a look at ‘em. You probably got some good ones of the kids in there, ‘specially from birthdays and holidays—,” he manages to get out before Ellie cuts him off.

“Can you guys have this conversation somewhere else? Some of us are actually trying to watch the movie,” she sits up from her spot on your lap to glare in his direction. 

Then, Tommy abruptly stands like something just occurred to him and strides across the room to the mantle above the fireplace—right where you set the camera down earlier. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

“Hold up. This thing’s still got one shot left, don’t it?” he asks excitedly, and you’re not sure how to shut him down without drawing too much attention to yourself or sounding mildly hysterical.

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Oh shit, s’got a timer and everythin’,” he continues, fiddling with its limited settings. He turns back towards the rest of the group and holds up the camera with a grin. “C’mon, everybody get together. We’re takin’ our first official Christmas card photo.”

“But, Tommy—,” you try again, but you’re drowned out by Joel’s sad attempt to leave the room.

“Look, I said I’d watch the movie, but I sure as hell didn’t agree to take a damn Christmas photo,” he grumbles, moving to stand, but you latch onto his flannel before he gets too far. He softens at your downtrodden expression and settles back in.

“Just to be clear, m’doin this for her, not for you,” he amends his previous statement gruffly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You kiss his cheek gratefully, and Ellie pretends to gag as she shuffles to sit between your legs.

“Whatever you say, big brother. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. Think you can handle that?” Tommy teases him, making one final adjustment to the camera's placement. “Alright y’all, here we go.”

He sets the timer, then runs to the couch, squishing into the only available spot between Maria and an armrest. Everyone huddles together with varying levels of smiles and grimaces on their faces while you wait for the camera to go off. Except, it doesn't.

“Wait, how long did you set the timer for?” you peer around Maria to see Tommy looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“…Does it not just go 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, shoot?” he asks sheepishly.

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Ellie groans, leaning back against you, and the entire couch bursts out laughing. 

And in that moment, the flash goes off.

Yeah, this is the one.

The photo in your hands feels like the culmination of every memory you made and preserved in the past year. Five faces—and one tiny sleeping one—look up at you, fully developed and as happy as you've ever seen them.

Tommy and Maria sit side by side with their son in her lap, their heads thrown back in laughter. Next to them, Ellie sits between your legs, mid-knee slap, as you cackle with your chin resting on top of her head.

And then there's Joel, grinning from ear to ear as he looks on at the family he's fought so hard to protect. The family that's safe and sound, and enjoying an ordinarily special day, just for the sake of it. You can only hope that a book full of photos and everything it represents will be enough to convince him once and for all that it's the truth.

As you slide the final Polaroid into place, Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"What's all this?" he watches curiously as you close the book and swipe your hand lovingly across the cover. Then, you pick it up and turn in his embrace, leaning back against the kitchen counter. 

"A gift," you reply carefully, hugging it to your chest. 

You glance over to where Ellie's still sitting in the living room, but she shakes her head and offers you a small smile, her delicate way of telling you that you're on your own. You take a deep breath before continuing.

"It's a Christmas present from me and Ellie," you explain, hoping to convey even a fraction of what this means to you. "Look, we know this isn’t necessarily your favorite day, but...we still wanted to do something nice for you."

He nods, his expression frustratingly unreadable. But then he does something unexpected.

"Y'gonna keep huggin' it or are you gonna show it to me?" he drawls jokingly, and your brows shoot up in shock.

"You wanna see it?" 

His face falls, and you immediately feel terrible at the brief wave of hurt that crosses his features. You didn't mean to sound so surprised, but you didn't anticipate this easy acceptance.

"'Course I do. The two of you spent a whole year workin' on this thing, why wouldn't I?"

That grin you know he loves lights up your entire face, and you turn to place his gift back on the counter. Flipping to the first page, you step aside and let him explore it for himself.

He takes in each moment of each season slowly, running his fingers across Ellie's doodles between photos and in the margins. Spring is framed by butterflies that you're somehow just realizing are painted in all of Sarah's favorite colors. 

Ellie added so many painstaking details you'd never talked about. You're not even sure how she knew something like that, but you're grateful it's there. Joel notices it too, and reaches down to take your hand, gripping it tightly for the rest of the book. 

He's silent as flips through summer and fall, and when he finally reaches winter, you feel him begin to tremble beside you. 

The last page sits open in front of you, the photo from earlier flanked on either side by notes from you and Ellie. As he reads, then rereads them, you can see the cogs turning. He's starting to understand why you did this—and how something as simple as a photograph isn't just a look back on a life well-lived. It's a reminder to keep living.

“This is…,” his brows furrow as he tries to find the words to express the conflicting thoughts racing through his head.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything," is what he ultimately settles on, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are wet. You immediately drop his hand to cup his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I have everything I've ever wanted right here," you tell him gently, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. 

You glance over at the familiar faces in the living room, the same ones looking up at you from the page below, and he follows your gaze. The tension in his body begins to bleed away the longer he watches them, and you learn the wrinkle in his brow isn't actually the permanent fixture it always seemed to be.

He reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, and you can feel his heart racing through his fingertips. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is the moment it happens. If his heart grew three sizes bigger today, and if he's finally ready to give himself the gift of peace.

“Merry Christmas, Joel Miller," you whisper, kissing him deeply as the sweet voice of Cindy Lou Who brings the movie credits rolling in the distance to a close.

thanks for reading and happy holidays!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[clarissesspear]

Stupid Water Boy - Clarisse La Rue

just some cute fluffy angst stuff

“Can you fucking believe it.” Clarisse scowled. “That stupid water boy! First he claims he killed the Minotaur, so I try and force- I mean confess he’s lying and now he freaking soaked me in toilet water! And embarrassed me. I am going to kill that stupid kid!” Clarisse says the anger picking up in her tone.

“Clar, I know you hate him but you can’t just kill him- I mean you did attack him multiple times, baby.” I told her while helping her dry her hair with a towel.

“Tomorrow during capture the flag I am going to kill that stupid water boy, I promise that.” Clarisse said muttering under her breath.

“Clar, baby, no you will not being murdering a 12 year old boy! Here have your towel back I finished drying you hair off.” I said with a smile. “Now I need to get back to my cabin before anyone notices I’m not back before curfew. Bye I love you clear.” I say giving her a kiss as she kisses back.

“No promises.” Clarisse says, a big smirk forming on her face.

It was the next day, every campers favorite day. Especially Clarisse. I walked over to Clarisse as I was getting my red team armor on. “Excited?” I asked her as I was putting my helmet on. “Of course I am.” She says with her usual smirk. “Well I’ll see you after the match! Love you!” I say giving her a quick kiss then running off to guard the flag.

I was guarding the flag until I heard a scream, not just any scream. It was Clarisse I told the other person on watch to guard the flag as I ran off in the direction of the scream. Once I finally got there I saw clarisse on the ground, I then saw her spear that she got from her father Ares broken in half. I then looked up to see Percy standing there looking scared as ever.

“Clarisse what happened?” I asked, walking towards her putting my hand on her shoulder. “That stupid boy broke my spear!” She yelled, glaring at him with anger in her eyes.

“Look I didn’t mean to-“ Percy started until I interrupted him.

“just leave Percy, you’ve done enough.” I tell him until the horns go off meaning the blue team won and stole our flag. “Clarisse, baby, I’m sure it can be fixed-“ I started until Clarisse started talking.

“Leave me alone Y/N!” She said as she stood up grabbed her broken spear and ran off.

“Clarisse! Wait!” I yelled hoping she’d stop, but she didn’t. She kept running towards the forest till I couldn’t see her anymore. I guess the only thing I could do is go to my cabin and wait till Clarisse would talk to me again.

It had been a few hours since everything had Happened apparently Percy got claimed by Poseidon god of the sea after I had left, I tried looking for Clarisse but I couldn’t find her. I didn’t know what to do until there was a knock on the cabin door. I got up and cracked it open to see Clarisse with tears in her eyes.

“Clarisse? Are you okay?” I asked her, opening the door father inviting her inside.

“I’m sorry for being a total asshole to you earlier I was just so mad that, that, stupid Percy did this. He broke the only connection I have to my father, Y/N.” She said tears falling down her face even more.

“Come here Clar.” I pull her into a hug and to my surprise she squeezes me back. “Do you want to talk about it anymore?” I ask her while rubbing circles into her back.

“No. I just want to be here with you.” She said, letting go of the hug and slowly walking over towards my bed, grabbing my blanket that she loved very much and cuddled up in it. I walked over to my bed and layed down next to her.

“it’ll be okay baby, you can kick his ass tomorrow in sparring.” I told her with a smile.

“I love you baby and yes, I’ll kick his ass.” She said with a soft smile back.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, Epilogue

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Flirting, baby talk, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus being utterly Marcus. Summary: Ten years after getting married, the inn is seeing a slightly different kind of celebration for an even bigger extended family. Notes: While not indicative in any way of reader's appearance or ethnicity or anything else -- it's worth noting that Alex and David were heavily inspired by Alex and Henry from Red, White, and Royal Blue. So I've used a gif of them for this chapter in tribute.

I am particularly sad to say goodbye to these two, but I will hold their family close to my heart and revisit them frequently 🥰🥰 Next week we're taking a short rest, and Javi's soulmate story Bones Full of Words will start on July 14!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17 ~ Ch 18

Getting out of the office was a priority today. Rushing to collect his briefcase, Marcus runs through the list of instructions for his assistant, even though he knows she is well aware. “If you need anything, call me. It will probably be loud, but I’ll keep an eye on things.” He promises, ignoring the little eye roll Tara gives him when he glances up.

She sighs slightly. “Like I’m interrupting tonight.” She scoffs, making him grin.

“We’ll be up late, so I’m not coming in until lunch tomorrow.” He reminds her, having blocked out the morning in his calendar months ago.

“No meetings, got it.” She bites her lip. “How did the lunch with the Director go?” She asks, making him hum as he closes the soft leather tooled briefcase bag that Junie had made for eight Christmases ago.

“Tell you tomorrow.” He promises, knowing that will have her fuming at being out of the loop for even twenty-four hours. She huffs and he’s sailing around the desk to grab his suit jacket. “Have a good night!” He calls over his shoulder playfully. “And don’t forget to go vote!”

It didn’t make sense to have the election night party anywhere but the inn. It’s well within Virginia’s 8th Congressional district and a very recognizable landmark across the country — Americans all remember their two term first woman President, and the stories about her children that played out in the media for the eight years she ran the country.

Tonight, the buzz of another election night has the inn — and the family — on high alert.

“Hey sweetheart!” Marcus rushes into the inn, aware that you will be here rather than at the house. “What do I need to help with?”

“Hi honey!” You’re four feet deep in party preparations, while Juan is out back setting up tents in the garden and Sydney is cooking her heart out. Thankfully the inn is totally sold out to people who will be attending tonight’s party, so there aren’t really extra guests to attend to and the restaurant is closed for one night for the occasion. “Junie has all the kids in the front room if you want to go say hi before I put you to work.”

“Of course I do.” His jacket is already coming off, but he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and his hand finds your stomach. “You aren’t working too hard, are you? I tried to get out as soon as I could.”

“I’m working as hard as little Pike will let me.” A soft moment to enjoy a kiss from your husband without all three of your children swarming him when he comes home from work is a blessing, but this third pregnancy is more tumultuous than the last one. “Constance, Holly and Sabrina insisted on construction papers banners to hang at the party and the boys made sugar cookies with red, white, and blue sprinkles earlier in the day” The generation of kids that are growing up together have bonded quickly — with Sydney and Juan’s oldest taking to your and Marcus’s twins, and the younger brothers of both families coming together just as easily. This time it is you and your sister who are pregnant together, and Junie has been unexpectedly enjoying the majority of her pregnancy. Her first has been mild and she has that fantastic glow about her at six months along.

“Good.” Marcus beams as he caresses the barest bump under your breasts. You had insisted you were just gaining a little weight this time but he knew better. “Everyone is excited for tonight. They’ve asked if they can stay up until the speeches.” He warns you with a chuckle. “I’ve already taken the morning off tomorrow.”

“They can stay up a little, but they have school tomorrow.” Which you’ve already told them, of course, but the twins are already learning that giving their Daddy big eyes will get them a whole lot of leeway. “After my mother’s second election, I genuinely thought we were done with this.” It sounds like a complaint, but you laugh softly and shake your head, leaning into your husband’s side in your office. “I guess one of us was bound to end up following in her footsteps.”

“It’s very fitting that it’s Alex.” He slides his hand down to rub the spot on your back that has been giving you the most grief with this last pregnancy. “I cast my vote for him today before lunch.”

“I love that he’s running in our district,” you admit, glowing with that sisterly pride that you’ve been known to show all along your brother’s campaign trail. “That we can actually vote for him. I gave the staff long meal breaks today to go vote. Everybody has their stickers on.”

“I know. But it’s convenient since he and David live one neighborhood over.” He teases, kissing your cheek and winking at you playfully. “Now, how can I help?”

"Go say hi to your kids and then I'll enlist you to help me set up the main sitting room for tonight." Stealing one more kiss before you step away is a challenge only in that you have to limit yourself to one more kiss.

“You got it, sweetheart.” Despite the time and the additional responsibilities, Marcus still feels that fluttering in his stomach every time he kisses you. Stepping away, he opens the door to your office. “Pike posse! Where are you?” He calls out.

"Daddy!" The scream goes up nearly immediately, and three sets of little feet hit the ground running to scramble around the corner into the hallway.

His kids are the most important people in his world, besides you. He immediately drops down, expecting to be tackled and grunts as he absorbs the impact of the three’s enthusiastic greeting.

The twins start talking at him immediately about their day at school, as nine-year-old Holly and Sabrina both aced their geography quizzes and are currently facing the very serious dilemma of picking out books for their next book reports. Six-year-old Matthew is quiet while his sisters command their father's attention, but snuggles into Marcus's side as tightly as possible in the meantime.

His arm winds around Matthew, hugging him close, and he kisses the top of his curly brown head. Giving his full attention to the reasons that he is proud to drink out of the #1 Dad mug that sits on his desk at work every day. “We will find the perfect books this weekend at the bookstore. How does that sound?” Marcus suggests, knowing they will love that.

"YESSSS!" Both girls chant over and over, wiggling out happy dance moves on the spot. This was clearly the outcome they were hoping for.

“And what about you, Matt?” Marcus turns his attention on the quiet little boy that is still clinging to him. “Does that sound like fun?“

The little boy thinks for a second, lips twisted up in concentrated consideration, until he finally nods a little. "Could I...get a crayon book?" The most artistic of your children asks, always favoring coloring books and puzzle books — collectively called crayon books by the first grader — over other activities.

“Absolutely.” The promise is easily made, making sure that he doesn’t feel judged by wanting to color or draw over reading. “We will find a great crayon book, just for you.”

"Do you want to see the banners we made, Daddy?" Sabrina asks eagerly, already about to pull their father into the next room to show him before she can even finish the sentence. "Matty drew stars on them, and I did stripes!"

“Come on bud.” Marcus hoists Matthew up into his arms as he lets the twins lead him into the main sitting room of the inn. “Oh, it’s great!” He proclaims when he sees the banner on the ground.

"Auntie June said we could put it up over the window!" Holly announces with a toothy grin. One of her top front teeth fell out a few days ago and a bottom tooth has become especially wiggly since then.

“Of course we will.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll hang it up as soon as you show me exactly where.” June will go nowhere near a step ladder, considering her condition and he knows Dylan will be thankful for that. You and June are too much alike, trying to climb on things and give your soulmates heart attacks while carrying the babies.

"I thought it would be best to wait until their helpfully tall father got home," June admits, coming back into the room from the other side — a direction that means she definitely ducked into the kitchen for a snack while the kids were saying hello. "Hi Marcus."

“Hey, June.” Marcus smiles at your younger sister and moves over to give her a quick hug. “I know your husband will be happy.”

"Yeah, yeah," she huffs and rolls her eyes like she hadn't tried to get up on a ladder with a hammer in her own house just three days ago and Dylan had had a fit after walking into the room. "How was your meeting?" She asks more quietly, tilting her head at her brother-in-law when her niblings aren't paying attention.

“It was…enlightening.” Marcus grins and shrugs, not willing to say too much right now. Today isn’t about him. “How was Charlie the horse, today?”

"My star patient is recovering marvelously." June's veterinary practice has unexpectedly become primarily focused on horses and small amounts of domestic livestock along with the usual dogs and cats, and she is thriving being an on-demand vet that makes house calls around their corner of Virginia. "He was trotting around very happily by the time I left today."

“Hopefully you are letting Marcy do all the heavy lifting with the animal?” Her vet tech is a wonderful woman who has aspirations of becoming a veterinarian herself, once she can complete the schooling. It had been a reassurance to Dylan to have her there with Junie as she made house calls.

“It helps that Marcy is also taller and stronger than me,” June admits with a laugh. “I’m behaving, Marcus. I promise.”

“Good.” He gives her a pointed look. “I know how the women in your family operate.” He reminds her. “Your sister nearly made me crazy with the twins.”

“Juan had to wrestle her away from the porch decorations earlier,” June tells him with a knowing smirk. “I think carrying twins makes her feisty.”

Marcus’s eyes widen slightly and his mouth drops open. “Carrying?” He chokes out.

"Oh shoot." June's eyes dart over to the kids, who have already set out at creating a chain of construction paper links in red, white, and blue to go with their banner. When she looks back at Marcus, she shoves him and grins. "Go talk to your wife, but do not tell her I spilled the beans."

“I—” he fumbles for something to say, but he can’t. Just turning around and immediately moving back towards the office. Happy the kids are occupied again so he can talk to you.

"Hey." His familiar shadow in your doorway makes you stand again, and you pick up a stack of papers that you had meant to bring home yesterday to look over before you think better of it and put them down again. Tonight is just election night. Tomorrow you'll deal with personal news and other business. That's what you had decided, even though you're almost vibrating with your own good news tonight. "Did the kids show you their banner? Holly is extremely proud of how straight her stripes are."

“They did.” Marcus nods as he closes the door behind him. Walking over to you and pulling you in for a more prolonged kiss, one that he pours himself into.

It isn't that Marcus never takes the time to kiss you breathless, but you hadn't expected it today and certainly not right now, so you end up both wrapped in his arms and boneless against him as you sink into the kiss until you're both breathless. "What was that for?" You breathe, when he finally pulls away again.

“I’m just…happy.” He nuzzles his nose against yours gently and kisses you again. “So fucking happy, hummingbird.”

"Does this mean your meeting went well?" You ask, arms twining around his waist and beaming at him.

“It was good.” He smiles back at you and sighs softly. “But that’s not important right now.”

"Your meeting...with the Director of the FBI...isn't important right now?" That doesn't make any sense to you at all, and you pull back a little to look Marcus over and frown. "Was it...not about what you thought?"

“It was.” Marcus admits, knowing that the idea of it has changed in the past two minutes. “I think I might turn it down.”

"What? Why?" That definitely isn't the response you were expecting from him. Not when he's been edging his way toward this one last promotion for years now.

“It would be a lot of hours.” He reminds you softly, leaning in and kissing you again. “We are about to have another baby.” He wants you to tell him, not have it come out that he knows. Hating now that he had missed the appointment because of a department meeting. You had assured him it was okay to miss one and now he has missed something important.

"You've worked so hard for this," you remind him gently. "This is your literal life's work. Your entire career. I don't want you to give up the chance to see that through. We always planned on a big family, that shouldn't stop you from accepting a promotion." Once glance down between you at your growing belly makes you sigh softly and you lean up to kiss him again. "I was going to save these until tomorrow...but do you want to see the ultrasound photos from this morning?"

“Not unless you don’t want me to.” Marcus would love nothing more, but he also doesn’t want to pressure you.

“I had a silly idea that tonight was going to be all about Alex, and nothing else.” From behind you, you reach into your desk drawer and pull out an untouched envelope of photos to hand to Marcus. “But this is important. Just like your work is important. Our lives are our family and our careers, and we’ve worked really hard to keep the balance.”

“I know.” Marcus assures you, not taking the photos but he drags his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “The director is retiring next month and wants to appoint me as the acting director as a trial run to being named Director of the FBI.”

“That’s…that’s incredible, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Pride in your partner, of how hard he works and how much he has accomplished, sticks in your throat and make your voice crack a little. If you’re a little teary while you beam at him and pull him in tightly for a hug? Well, that’s pride too but also a dash of pregnancy hormones. His thoughts of retiring early were thrown to the back burner when he got set on the fast-track of promotion after promotion. He’s been the Assistant Director of the FBI for almost four years already. “You deserve it, love. You work so hard and you deserve everything.”

“I don’t know about that.” He knows there have been sacrifices for his job, there always have been. But he’s worked hard to balance life and work. “This, our family is the most important thing in my life.”

“And I love how dedicated you are to us.” Your eyes track away from his just long enough to find the envelope again, and you smile. “You should look at the photos, love.”

He takes the envelope from you and swallows. “I wish I could have been there.” He murmurs, pulling out the sonogram photos and immediately tearing up. “Another set of twins.” He chokes out. “My babies.”

“We both got good news today.” If you’re honest, you had guessed it would be twins even before the doctor confirmed it. It felt the same as the first time you were pregnant. Intense morning sickness and faintness with an equally intense feeling of giddiness. Even the cravings have been similar so far.

He practically giggles and swoops you into another hug and kiss. Elated that you are happy about the news and he will never be unhappy about more kids. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.” Your hands on his cheeks are warm and doting, and your thumbs sweep over his cheekbones as you grin. “Whatever you decide is your path, the kids and I will be here to love you and be so proud of you.”

“I’m going to take it.” The idea of being able to pad the college savings for the kids is important. “But, the second it doesn’t work with having five kids, I’ll retire.”

“It’s your decision to make.” The way you nod — emphatic and beaming with pride — has you in giggles all over again. “Director Pike.”

“It’s our decision.” He reminds you, although he’s also grinning. “Nothing comes before you and the kids.”

“Tonight I’m afraid that can’t be true.” But you steal one more eager, excited kiss from him anyway. “It’s Alex’s night. And we should get out there and help with finishing the decorations before Juan comes and hunts us down.”

“Yes we should.” He can’t help but press a kiss to your lips again. “I love you so much, Hummingbird.”

No one eats quite the way congressional staffers do in the week leading up to elections, and Alex’s electoral team is no exception. The buffet that Sydney and her team put out is refilled a second time before things calm down, and the team is watching votes roll in on laptops, phone screens, and the big TVs all around the inn. Some folks are outside, where a little bit of a party is starting to brew as Alex’s lead in the polls becomes clearer and clearer. You, your siblings, the soulmates, and your parents are all piled into the front sitting room together with the big TV turned on and Alex’s campaign director is hustling back and forth between groups of people.

“They haven’t called it yet.” Alex hums, twisting his hands in his husband’s. He’s nervous and jittery and touching David seems to help him calm down. “The fourth and seventh district polls aren’t in yet.”

"I know, baby." David lets his husband's restless hands move in his as much as they need, standing steady as his rock while Alex gets his nerves out. "But look at what is in. We don't need every single vote for you to win, just a few more percentage points and you can put the finished touches on your acceptance speech."

“Ohhhh don’t jinx me.” Alex huffs, leaning over and closing his eyes as his head rests against David’s shoulder. “I don’t want to count my chickens.”

"Ba-gock." Junie deadpans the sound of a chicken as another district reports their numbers.

"Alex." Your hands are on his shoulders instantly. "Alex, look!" You insist, pointing to the screen. "Two percent more and you've got it!"

“Oh god, oh god, I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, eyes wide and he has to lean forward. “You never told me how bad this part of running is, mom.” He groans to the former President, currently sitting in her husband’s lap on the nearby sofa.

"And scare you off?" She laughs, unbothered and unworried for him. She knows he has this in hand, even if he doesn't. "Never, Al."

“Evil.” He huffs, making everyone else laugh. They’ve always had faith in him, maybe more than he’s had in himself and he knows that he wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you. “Distract me with something. Anything. Good news.” He begs, looking around the group.

You and Marcus exchange glances, and Junie clears her throat loudly. "Birdie went to the doctor today," she says loudly enough that there's no pretending it isn't the thing everyone has zeroed in on right away.

Marcus squeezes your hand and grins, unable to hide his delight. “And?” Alex demands, lifting his head instantly and looking over at you. “My latest niece or nephew?” He asks, thinking that the sex was determined.

"We just confirmed that I'm even pregnant again," you laugh, shaking your head at the question. You and Marcus probably stretched it a little going for your first doctor's appointment this time around, but you weren't really in a hurry when the signs were so clear — and so was the pharmacy test that you took. "But...we can tell you that the Pike genetics are strong." The grin that spreads across your face is broad. "It's twins."

Everyone gasps and starts celebrating. None of them are surprised, Selena just had twins last year, but they are happy. Alex jumps up, diving towards you to hug you. “God, I can’t believe it.” He whispers in your ear. “I’m so happy for you.”

"We'll have you kissing babies on the reelection circuit in no time." Though you hug your brother tightly, your eyes are on the television screen behind him. The announcement had taken your family's focus away from the campaign entirely, and that was apparently the magic touch necessary for more results to come pouring in. "Congressman." You poke his side slightly and nudge him back. "Alex, look."

“What?” His head whips around and his eyes bug out when he sees that they are declaring him the winner. The phones that have all been gathered on the coffee table immediately start ringing. “Oh my god.” He whispers. “Oh my god. I won!”

"You won!" David cries in turn, not that he had doubted his husband for a second, but so startled by the timing that he's thrown up his hands in the process.

“I won!” Alex lets you go, nearly jumping on David to kiss him. “I won!”

The room erupts in cheers, chatters, and rising voices that verge on shouting as more and more of Alex's campaign staff barrel in from the back garden. "Other direction!" You call, laughing when the room has filled but there are still more people who want to come in. "Back outside! Party goes back outside!"

It takes a moment, but the room clears and the garden is filled with the sounds of cheering and claps, whistles and exuberant celebrations. It’s been a long campaign season and they deserve to be happy for what they helped accomplish.

"I just want to say." Standing on the porch with a whole garden full of people, Alex stands with David at his side and glows. The pride of a well-run campaign and the excitement of a victory give him the same glow that you remember seeing your mother have over and over again, each election night of your childhood.

"I just want to say..." he repeats, laughing a little when it takes a few moments for everyone to quiet down. "My absolute most heartfelt 'thank you's." Everyone roars to life again with cheers and applause but only for a second. "We ran a campaign with integrity, transparency, and a whole lot of promises. Now the real work begins. Now we have to keep those promises, and build the good will with our constituents that will keep us moving forward. But tonight?" He takes David's hand, grateful to have his husband and soulmate there as his anchor. "Tonight we celebrate!"

Marcus holds you close, his hands on your shoulders as he watches his brother-in-law hug all the staff that have tirelessly worked to make tonight reality. “We are all damn lucky.” He murmurs in your ear.

"Hell yes we are." Turning around in his arms, you wrap your arms around your husband's waist and look up at him with a bright smile. "In every way, baby."

The sounds of celebration are loud enough to wake the dead, but the kids are zonked out in the third-floor apartment where they had finally given up trying to stay awake. Everyone’s kids are piled into the bed and having a sleepover even though it’s a school night. Your brother just won his election and will go on to become a beloved representative for his district. Marcus is slotted to become the Director of the FBI, a very important role that he had never originally let himself dream of.

Your inn is one of the best in the D.C. area and constantly packed, and most importantly, your pregnancy is proceeding nicely. It’ll be the last one, Marcus has already scheduled having a vasectomy done after the babies are born. He just hasn’t told you yet.

“Give it another ten years and he’ll be the first gay president.” Marcus predicts with a smile. “Despite what comes, I do know one thing.” The love he carries for you every day is shining through his eyes. “Our lives are amazing and I am so thankful to be here with you.” He promises. “Hummingbird has landed.” He tells you, using the code that had been used when you first met to signify that everything is just as it should be.

______

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[bloody-bee-tea]

Beetober 2024 Day 12 - Peach

Hitoshi stares off into the distance. He lets the chatter of his friends wash over him, the gentle cadence interrupted only by Mina's bright laugh, by Denki's cheerful exclamations and of course by Bakugo's yelled death threats.

All in all it’s not very peaceful but it's disgustingly familiar and Hitoshi feels himself sink further into his chair.

"Oi, shitty extra, you got nothing to add?" Bakugo snaps out some undetermined time later and Hitoshi blinks his eyes open, unaware of when they slipped close.

"Add to what?" he rasps out and he tries to remember what they've been talking about before he maybe, possibly, drifted off to sleep.

There had been talk about a case, maybe? But that could also just be a figment of his imagination, Hitoshi wouldn't put it past his brain because it's not as if he can expect anything from it after almost three days awake.

"You doing okay, buddy?" Denki carefully asks and Hitoshi lolls his head around to look at him, decidedly not thinking deeper on how hard it is to drag his eyes away from Bakugo's piercing glare.

It's always hard to look away from him, he commands attention in every room he steps into, and it doesn't help that Hitoshi has a stupid pathetic crush on the other hero. Still, he somehow manages to fix his attention on Denki, though he can feel Bakugo's gaze still on him.

"Came off a—" Hitoshi trails off, because he doesn't actually remember if he had a double or maybe quadruple shift after he got out of his last mission so he weakly ends with "—long shift at work."

He mentally congratulates himself on actually finishing the sentence but it seems as if his friends are only more worried now.

"When was the last time you slept?" Mina asks, leaning in slightly, her big eyes narrowed at him.

"What day is today?" Hitoshi shoots back when he can't quite get his days in order.

"Thursday, you dementic asshole," Bakugo hisses out and Hitoshi gives him a lazy thumbs up.

"Maybe Tuesday then, but definitely Monday," he says, because he remembers waking up from a nightmare on Monday morning. That means he must have slept at least long enough to dream so it counts.

He can't quite remember if he slept since but—well. That's not totally unusual for him after coming back from a monthlong mission and soon enough his body will forcefully shut him down, which is the only thing he’s hoping for at this point.

Hitoshi does hate it so when his therapist is on her time off.

"You're insane," Denki whispers out, clearly horrified by what Hitoshi has said but he simply shrugs.

There's nothing he can do about it, he tried all the things already. It just doesn't work, and especially not after an undercover mission that almost went to shit. He learned to live with it and usually he doesn't mind it much.

He has his dads he can talk to and his therapist normally, and in a day or two his sleep schedule will go back to its regular four to five hours a night and Hitoshi will be fine.

He always is.

"Why are you even here, if you haven't slept?" Bakugo wants to know and Hitoshi forces himself to focus on him.

"Excuse me for wanting to spend time with my friends, who I rarely see because of shitty missions," he tells him and immediately Denki coos.

"Aww, Toshi, you called us your friends." He clasps his hands in front of his chest, his eyes big and watery and Hitoshi regrets ever opening his mouth.

"Gonna take it back if you're being weird about it," he grumbles and does not perk up when Bakugo snorts out a soft laugh.

"Shouldn't have ever mentioned it in the first place, Pikachu is going to latch on to that and never let it go," he lazily drawls out and it almost sounds like a threat, especially when Denki nods enthusiastically.

"I'll just make him forget. As soon as I get enough brainpower to actually hold on to him," Hitoshi mutters, his eyes closed again and he only blinks them open when he's met with silence.

"Dude, you're like, dead on your feet. Go home. You have some time off now, right?"

"Entire next week," Hitoshi nods.

"We could have met literally any other time than today," Mina sighs out and pats Hitoshi's head. "Please go home and sleep."

"I'm gonna crash for three days straight when my body shuts down and I wanted to see you before."

"Alright, that's it, up you go, zombie face, this is just pathetic and sad and you need to sleep. The extras will still be here when you join the land of the living in three days."

The extras maybe, but Bakugo won't because he's scheduled to go on an oversea mission for the next two weeks and Hitoshi really wanted to see him, too.

He'd rather die than admit that, though, so he simply flips Bakugo the finger but he does get up, swaying on his feet once he manages to stand upright.

"Did you bike here?" Denki warily asks him and Hitoshi shakes his head.

He's not quite that stupid.

"Train," is all he says and when he almost topples over because everything keeps shifting with how tired he is, Bakugo shoots up and catches him.

"Fucking hell, eggplant, you really are so goddamn stupid," he mutters as he slings Hitoshi's arm over his shoulder and hitches him up, one of his stupidly muscled arms wrapped around Hitoshi's middle.

"What are you doing?" Hitoshi mutters out, even though he can't quite stop himself from leaning into Bakugo and his enticing heat.

It's okay if he can brush it off as being too tired to stand, right?

"Getting you home, what does it fucking look like?" is the harsh reply he gets and Hitoshi frowns.

"I can get there by myself."

"Right, because you look real able at the moment," Bakugo sneers out and Hitoshi can imagine his eyeroll. "You're going to take one step outside and then fall into oncoming traffic, because you'll keel over any moment now and then you'll have traumatised some poor, unsuspecting citizens. Plus, someone’s gotta protect your mug, lest it get any uglier, so I'm only doing my job as a hero. It's a service to the public, really."

Hitoshi blinks several times, trying to digest all of that, but he gives up when his head starts to hurt.

There is one thing he takes away from all of this, though.

"Aww, I didn't know you cared," he says around a smile and he hears someone snort, probably Denki.

"I fucking don't, you idiot," Bakugo snaps and then hefts Hitoshi higher, before he starts to drag him off.

"Bye, Toshi!" Denki calls after him and Mina adds "Get some sleep!" before their voices fade in the background.

"Is this a kidnapping?" Hitoshi wants to know when Bakugo deposits him into a car seat and he thinks he might catch on fire from the intensity with which Bakugo glares at him.

"Do kidnappers usually take you home to sleep?" Bakugo inquires once he slid behind the wheel and Hitoshi hums in thought.

"Not typically, no. Is this—are you gonna crash the car then?"

"I would rather kill you with my bare hands than mess up the paint job on my car," Bakugo shoots back with a side glance and Hitoshi lolls his heard around until he can look at him.

He does make a very striking picture behind the wheel, but then again, Bakugo always does. That's kind of his entire thing.

"Hate how competent you are at everything," Hitoshi mutters under his breath. "Even bulling me into going home."

Bakugo outright laughs at that.

"If it makes you feel better, I work hard to be that competent."

"Even at taking me home?"

"I doubt it's going to be the last time, you're a fucking idiot like that, so there’ll be lots of opportunity for me to practice," Bakugo gives back, but his voice is softer than Hitoshi is used to and it's enough to almost put him to sleep.

He feels so cared for.

They don't speak for the rest of the ride home and Hitoshi only realises they have arrived when Bakugo punches his shoulder. He must have dozed off at some point.

"Oi, up you go, fucker," he cheerfully declares and Hitoshi barely manages to get his eyes open.

They burn and Hitoshi feels like crying because he's so damn tired and he knows it still won't be enough. The last mission is still hanging over him and he has been in this line of work for long enough to know that the nightmares won't let him sleep if he isn't unconscious.

Now, Yamada has argued often enough that unconsciousness doesn't equal rest, but Hitoshi just needs to reset his system once. He's not relying on unconsciousness forever, he just needs it this one time, and then his stupid brain will know that it's okay to fall asleep and then, maybe, he can get some real rest going forward.

"Are you deaf or just stupid?" Bakugo's cutting voice interrupts his musings and Hitoshi somehow manages to drag his eyes up to him.

"Tired," he slurs out and then falls forward, until his head rests on Bakugo's stomach.

"So let's get you upstairs so you can sleep in your bed and not propped up against me," Bakugo sighs out and Hitoshi must already be asleep, because there is no other explanation for the hand in his hair.

"'s not safe," Hitoshi mutters and feels how Bakugo sighs.

"I'm here, aren't I? It doesn't get safer than that," he gives back and maybe he's right.

Yeah, he has to be right, Hitoshi thinks, because Bakugo is one of the top three heroes and if he says it's safe then it must be.

"'kay," Hitoshi agrees and finally manages to get himself upright again, though he still has to lean very heavily against Bakugo.

"Last mission really fucked you over, huh?" Bakugo muses as they make their way up the stairs, slowly but surely, and Hitoshi nods.

"Was bad, nearly went completely off the rails."

It's barely an explanation, but Hitoshi doesn't have it in him to find more words and he's still not entirely convinced Bakugo even cares, despite the way he lugs his mostly uncooperative body up the stairs.

Bakugo probably treats this as training and then calls it a day. He won't ever think about this again and Hitoshi already knows that he'll never think of anything but this again. Bakugo is warm against him and for all that he pretends he doesn't care and couldn't be bothered to, he's still gentle and careful with Hitoshi and it's not something he would have expected.

"But it didn't and no one died," Bakugo says as he makes Hitoshi unlock the door to his apartment and he's too concentrated on getting the key into the hole to think about why the hell Bakugo would know that there hadn't been any casualties.

"Doesn't stop the—" he points at his temple once the door is open. "You know how it is."

"I do," Bakugo agrees and immediately moves towards the bedroom when Hitoshi points towards it.

He unceremoniously dumps him into the sheets as soon as it's in reach and Hitoshi doesn't have it in him to complain.

The bed is soft and he's finally in a horizontal position and Hitoshi's eyes slip shut without his permission.

"Thought so," Bakugo snorts out but Hitoshi still feels how the blankets are being pulled over him, and he'd almost call it sweet with how Bakugo tucks him in. He's just about to when Bakugo pushes his hand through Hitoshi's hair again and the last thing he hears before darkness finally claims him is "Sleep, I'm here. You're safe."

Hitoshi sleeps without nightmares that night.

~*~*~

Hitoshi wakes up completely disoriented. For long moments he doesn't know who he is, or where and least of all why and it takes him a good five minutes to remember his name and that he's currently at home.

He feels good; better than he has in ages and he has no clue how that comes to be. Hitoshi vows to figure that out, but first he needs something to drink. He rolls around in his bed, wondering if he's ready to leave it yet but when his gaze falls onto his side table, he realises that he doesn't have to.

There's a sports drink right there, waiting for him, sweetly calling his name, and Hitoshi downs the first half of it without tasting anything. It's only after that he realises it's peach flavoured, which happens to be his favourite.

"What the fuck," Hitoshi mutters, staring at the bottle in confusion.

He knows himself well enough to know that he certainly did not have the foresight to put it within reach and he's reasonably sure that he has never even brought one of these back home.

Hitoshi shrugs the mystery off and finally untangles himself enough to get up and stretch. He really feels good and he grabs for his phone to check just how long he's been asleep for and then he nearly drops it when the time hits him. It's Friday morning. And not even early morning, but like. Brunch time.

Hitoshi slept for well over fourteen hours and yeah, he definitely feels like it.

It's surprising to say the least, because he was prepared to wake up several times, maybe even be unable to fall back asleep should that happen, but for once in his life he slept through the night.

Well, nothing to do about it now, he decides and makes his way to the kitchen, his grumbling stomach reminding him that he needs to eat and fast only to let out the most unmanly shriek he can manage when a mop of ash-blonde hair turns into his direction and red eyes pierce him with their gaze.

"What the fuck!" Hitoshi yells out, hand clutching his chest and he fears his heart might just jump straight out and run away.

"Good morning to you, too," Bakugo says in the most condescending way he can manage and Hitoshi takes a moment to get his breathing back under control.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks once he's sure his voice will hold and Bakugo turns enough to sling an arm over the back of the couch.

"Listen, if you had died and the last person you were seen with were me, Sparky would murder me in cold blood," Bakugo says as if that makes any sense, as if he couldn't explode Denki before he even gets close.

"So what? You spent the entire night here?" Hitoshi asks and his eyes fall to the shirt Bakugo is wearing.

That is most definitely not what he was wearing yesterday afternoon.

"Don't be daft now, I went home."

"And then came back?"

"Yeah?"

"And broke my lock?"

"I took your keys, dumbass."

"Oh, because that's so much better," Hitoshi mutters and he doesn't understand what's going on.

He's craving coffee.

"There's a pot ready," Bakugo says with a nod towards the kitchen as if he can somehow read Hitoshi's thoughts and Hitoshi decides that this is a problem for after-coffee-Hitoshi.

After-coffee-Hitoshi has to face past-Hitoshi's problem way too soon, though, because there's indeed a pot of coffee ready and so it barely takes two minutes for him to be caffeinated.

Which reminds him of the sports drink that had been waiting for him.

"Hey," Hitoshi awkwardly says as he goes back into the living-room, cup of coffee clutched to his chest as if Bakugo might take it from him at any moment. "Why peach flavoured?"

"Cause it's your favourite, moron."

"How—how the hell do you know that?" Hitoshi demands to know because this entire interaction is completely catching him off guard and he has no clue what's going on, except that Bakugo is in his home, and he seems relaxed, and he made coffee for Hitoshi and he's not exploding his head off.

Hitoshi might still be asleep actually.

"What's my favourite flavour?" Bakugo shoots back instead of answering and Hitoshi answers without thinking much about it.

"You don't care about the flavour because you chug them like they are oxygen. I don't think you've ever tasted even one of them. You would never touch a cherry-flavoured one, because you hate that flavour in general," he answers and then goes slightly red in the face because he and Bakugo are nowhere near close enough for him to know that.

He just knows that because he's a creep with a crush and he has maybe been looking a little much.

"Yeah. That's how I know your favourite, too," Bakugo says, suddenly strangely guarded and it takes Hitoshi a moment to parse through his meaning but when he finally does he nearly drops his coffee.

Holy fuck, Bakugo Katsuki has been paying attention to Hitoshi.

This has to be a dream.

"You're leaving for overseas in two days," Hitoshi blurts out and he's going to blame all his blunders on the unusual feeling of being rested.

He's not used to that; clearly his body doesn't know how to handle it. It’s a good excuse.

"And that's why we're doing this fucking now," Bakugo snaps, and Hitoshi is delighted to see that he's embarrassed about something.

"You—what? Honestly thought I'd mind this,” Hitoshi awkwardly gestures between them, “and you could use those two weeks to pretend nothing happened? Bakugo, seriously, I've had the hots for you since our third year," Hitoshi admits and it's almost not mortifying at all to admit that, especially when Bakugo goes delightfully red in the face.

"You're so embarrassing," Bakugo snaps out and Hitoshi can only laugh in delight. "And besides. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and all that crap."

"Oh, the heart is not the only thing that's going to grow with the distance," Hitoshi immediately shoots back, wiggling his eyebrows for good measure too and it takes Bakugo a moment but then he cracks up, laughing so hard he leans forward and Hitoshi thinks he might have never seen a more beautiful sight.

It takes Bakugo a while to compose himself again but Hitoshi is not complaining. He enjoys seeing Bakugo like this, relaxed and happy and in his home and so Hitoshi is going to stare as much as he pleases, thank you very much.

But Bakugo does grow serious eventually and he nods towards the kitchen.

"I also made food. Go get some, before you starve or whatever."

"You're being so mean to me, you shouldn't order me around when we only have like two days left," Hitoshi pouts, absolutely prepared to see how far Bakugo will let him push and he only pouts some more when Bakugo stares him down.

"So go get your goddamn food and then come the fuck here," he says, each word distinctly pronounced and it still takes a meaningful glance from Bakugo to the space next to him on the couch for Hitoshi to catch up.

"Oh. Oh! You want me to come cuddle up to you, yep, I'm on that, gimme a moment!" Hitoshi rushes out and hurries back into the kitchen, not listening to Bakugo's cries of outrage.

He stayed in Hitoshi's apartment, and he knows his favourite flavour of sport drinks and he made food so really, there is nothing Bakugo gets to complain about right now.

Hitoshi shoves his food into the microwave for approximately five seconds before he decides that he can eat it cold, too, and then he's back in the living-room, almost throwing himself on the couch and therefore right into Bakugo's space.

He grumbles some more but he does lean back and lift his arm to let Hitoshi cuddle real close and really, in this moment, it wouldn’t matter if Hitoshi was about to keel over dead.

It would be worth it for just this moment.

"Gods, would it kill you to not be a fucking caveman for a second and actually heat your goddamn food up like a normal person?" Bakugo wearily asks as he eyes the cold plate in Hitoshi's hands.

"Yes," Hitoshi says with his mouth full and grins when Bakugo pulls a face. "May I remind you that you wanted this?"

"May I remind you that you had an embarrassing crush on me for years?"

"It's you, there's nothing embarrassing about it," Hitoshi immediately gives back and he never thought Bakugo's face could go that soft, but he wants to see it more.

"Just eat, dumbass."

"Will you make me warm food eventually?" Hitoshi asks after a moment and Bakugo rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I'll cook for you when I come back from my mission."

Hitoshi doesn't waste a second.

"Great, it's a date."

[kimpossibly]

@kolsmikaelson : headcanons for peeta mellark comforting the reader after a bad day (300 followers celebration)

hiiiii........so this took me twenty-eight million years to write.....pls ignore that.

i'm so sorry, after spring break i had to hit the ground RUNNING with directing my one act and finals, so thank you to all my followers for being so incredibly patient with me. i really am doing my best but just...bleh. i have gotten through 12 hours of graduation practice this week and i have three more tomorrow!!!!!! as well as starting a new job!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

but i DO feel that i am doing this at a good time with the fnaf teaser dropping and the josh hutchinson renaissance being upon us :)

i love you caitee. and i deeply apologize for the fact that this took me millenia to write. i hope you still enjoy it ♥

peeta comforting the reader after a long day

We all know Peeta...he is the Softest Boy literally ever

He's also such an empath. Suuuuuuuuch an empath.

And thus I believe firmly that when you've had a bad day, he knows immediately. The second you walk through the door, he can sense that something is wrong.

He will stop whatever he is doing (he's actually accidentally let things burn in the oven before) to come over to you and ask what's going on

And if you're not really in the talking mood, he's good with that too

He won't prod, he won't press for details, he'll only ask what he can do to help

If you want time to yourself he'll 100% respect that. He'll leave you be and go back to whatever he was doing before you got home, probably making dinner or doing some other odd chore here and there. When it's time for dinner he'll bring it to you and you'll eat together in bed if you're up for it

If you want company he's totally up for that. Even if you don't want to talk, he'll sit with you, hold your hand, run fingers through your hair, let you cry if you need to. Every once in a while he'll check-in and ask if you feel up to talking.

If you want to talk, Peeta is a great listener. He will let you rant and vent as looooooong as you need to. He won't interrupt until you're done and he'll hold your hand the entire time.

If you want advice, I have a feeling that he's not the greatest at that sometimes? I feel like sometimes he mentally lives in a world that's very optimistic and sunshine-y, so sometimes he thinks problems can be solved wayyyy easier than they actually can be. But his overall message is that he is there for you 100% and he will be there to support you through whatever.

At the end of the day, he just wants to do whatever he can do to make your awful day a little bit better :)

[lu-sn]

Pete watches on in amusement as Macau totally fails to shimmy himself into the skintight layer of his pilot suit.

“Hey, it’s because I’m swole now, okay, I lift,” Macau says petulantly as he finally manages to roll the suit past his hips. 

Pete finishes zipping up his own suit. “Mhmm.”

“This is a super old suit,” Macau complains, “they took my new suit for repairs, and let’s be honest, I was basically a stick back then–”

“Until you became hot,” Pete says, having heard this spiel only about twenty times before. He moves to help Macau squeeze his arms through the suit.

“Until I became hot!” Macau grins at Pete. “See, you get it. Hey, I bet my biceps look real good in this–”

“The kaiju will definitely be blown away by your biceps.”

“They sure fucking will.” Macau looks inordinately pleased with himself. “The final, secret weapon that will save humanity.”

Pete rolls his eyes. “Okay,” he says, “hold your breath – good,” as he yanks Macau’s zipper all the way up. He pats Macau on the back. “Let’s go.”

–

Once they’ve made their way to the jaeger cockpit, the technicians start encasing Pete and Macau in their protective armor, along with all of the hook-ups that give them control over the various limbs and weapon attachments on the jaeger. 

“Helmets,” one technician says, and Pete swiftly pulls on his head sock, making sure his bangs are securely tucked under the cloth before slipping on his helmet as well. He hears the familiar hiss of the hydraulics as the technician locks in a large attachment to the back of his helmet – the critical cabling that enables the pilots’ neural link.

“Step back,” the technician says, and Pete does. The exoskeleton clicks into place around him. “Preparations complete.”

“Testing comms,” a voice says, directly into Pete’s ear.

“Menace-L, copy,” Pete responds.

“Menace-R, copy,” Macau follows. “‘Sup, Hia.”

“Brat,” Vegas says placidly. “Operations confirmed that the kaiju is a Cat-3, and it’s headed for the Philippines. You’ll be in-flight for a little over 2 hours before the drop.”

“Yeah, right,” Macau mutters.

Pete snorts. After that one time they were stuck waiting to drop for over 12 hours, Pete doesn’t blame him for his skepticism.

“Tell yourself 4 hours, and then maybe you won’t be so cranky when the estimate isn’t spot on.” Vegas says. “The shelf on that side of the island falls off pretty quickly. Luckily, we don’t think you’ll have to wait until the kaiju makes it to the shallows. He doesn’t look like a swimmer.”

“A runner?” Macau says, a hint of glee in his tone.

“Yep. Four-legged. You should be able to fight him along the sea bed.”

“Phi,” Macau says. “Phi. Can we wrestle him, please–”

“Absolutely not,” Vegas starts.

“Sure,” Pete says.

Macau whoops. “Fuck yeah! Underwater wrestling, baby, let’s fucking go–”

Vegas sighs. “If HQ asks for Menace’s damages bill again, I’ll make sure you’re the one taking that call. You can be the one to explain exactly how critical it is to account for underwater wrestling in the budget–”

“We’ve, like, improved,” Macau says. “We’re good at it now. Tell you what – I’ll make you a bet. External damage only. No dents in the framework this time.”

“Deal,” Vegas says immediately. 

“Here we go again,” Pete says under his breath.

“We’re ready for the neural link, sir,” another voice interrupts. “Are we cleared?”

“One moment,” Vegas says. “Yes, you’re cleared.”

“Neural link for Apocalyptic Menace going live in sixty,” the voice says.

“Copy.”

Pete exhales, leans back into the exoskeleton. The jolt of the neural link is always nauseating, but thankfully it’s short-lived. Pete is very used to it, though. And the drift itself is wonderful.

He hears a faint click, and an indicator pops up on his helmet’s interface that he’s been switched over to a private line.

There is a long silence.

“Wish I could come with you,” Vegas says quietly.

Pete smiles, fond. “You’ll just have to wish harder for a Cat-4. For next time.”

Vegas’s injury means that he’s not allowed to be on a standard pilot rotation, not like the rest of them. But he’s so damn good that HQ can’t bring themselves to bench him, either. So he gets sent out with Pete on the really tough drops, the category 4 and 5 kaijus, and Macau subs in on all the rest.

They’re lucky that all three of them are drift compatible with each other. Otherwise, HQ would force Vegas into the cockpit far more frequently. And then Vegas would re-injure himself, probably, and Pete would have to go kill someone over it.

“Next time,” Vegas says. Then, firm, “You’ll come back.”

“I always do,” Pete says, voice soft.

Vegas hums. “And bring my idiot brother back intact, please. Keep the wrestling to a minimum.”

“Can’t believe you’d throw a bet like that,” Pete says, amused.

Vegas scoffs. “It’s a win-win for me. Less repairs, and HQ doesn’t come for my head... or, Macau does laundry for a month.”

Pete shudders. “Maybe not laundry this time? He’s not very, um. Good at it.”

“How else is he going to learn, Pete,” Vegas says pleasantly, “if we don’t give him the opportunity to improve himself.”

“Uh-huh. And it’s a total coincidence that you hate laundry.”

“Like I said,” Vegas says, “win-win. Oh, wait. Macau is speaking.” And Pete hears another click.

“Phi,” Macau says, very seriously.

“Nong.”

“Friendly reminder,” Macau says, “to not think about Hia.”

Pete laughs.

“No thoughts!” Macau screeches. “None! Not a single one, or I swear to god, I’ll break the neural link and jump into the ocean.”

“That was one time,” Pete says. Plus, it wasn’t like it had been Pete’s fault. Vegas shouldn’t have given him horny thoughts from 2000 kilometers away.

“Once,” Macau says, “was plenty.”

“Link in three,” the technician’s voice counts down, “two, one–”

And as the neural link kicks in, Pete’s vision whites out, and the pain is sharp and bright right behind his eyes – until, suddenly, it settles.

Hey, bro, he hears. Ready to rumble?

Pete grins. Macau’s emotions are infectious, all excitement and anticipation and dogged determination. And in the far corner of his mind, a tiny hint of nervousness. 

It’s good for Macau to have that. Keeps him from being reckless.

Let’s do this, Pete thinks. And then, just for a brief moment, he pulls up a memory from this morning – Vegas standing in the bathroom doorway while brushing his teeth, shirtless, ratty sweatpants riding low on his hips–

Oh my fucking god. Why would you do this to me. Why would you make me suffer like this.

Pete laughs, harder this time.

“Drift is stable,” the technician says. “Cleared for lift-off.”

“Copy,” Vegas says. There’s some murmuring from his end of the line. “Operations says you’re good to go. Good luck. Remember to cut down on the snarking this time. Maybe it’ll improve your kill time average.”

“Maybe I’ll stop snarking,” Macau says pointedly, “once Phi is done inflicting mind crimes on me–”

Describe to me, Pete thinks, in great detail, exactly how you picture this wrestling going. Just so we’re on the same page.

The distraction works. Pete feels a huge wave of glee hit him. Phi. I have so many ideas.

–

(thank you to @suzteel and @kissporsche for all of the ideas ❤️ and especially to suz for saying that every combination of mvp would be drift-compatible, because i swear i wasn't going to write anything until she baited me with that)

[crescentblossom66]

Bond of the Beasts Chapter 12

“School sucks! It was the one thing I totally didn't miss when I was all on my own.” Mu lamented as she entered the school after Hattie and Bow, the latter turned around to make sure her friend was following. The day after Mu was introduced to the remaining two adults, the DJ had insisted to buy her new clothes, an offer that the werewolf girl couldn't really turn down, given that her old clothes had been pretty beat up. She now had a red hoodie which was perfect for covering up her wolf ears and black jeans which were...not too great in making sure it wasn't a pain to hide her tail. The only thing that she couldn't hide was her mustache, but that didn't matter, she was proud of it, no matter what anyone else said.

Bow opened the door to the classroom for her. “Learning things is hard for me too, and I struggle a bit with talking to others, but I enjoy it a lot, it beats what we've been through before.” She said that in a more quiet tone to make sure that the kids that were already in the room didn't hear. Mu just sighed..

“At least tell me that you're sitting next to me.” Bow nodded. When Mu was accepted into class as a new transfer student, Cookie had requested that she could sit next to Bow, thinking that it would help Muriel adjust better if a friend sat next to her. Feeling indeed a bit better about this whole situation now, the red-clothed girl sat down with a huff, thinking that maybe she should act up in class...but that might make it worse for Bow and Cookie, both had been very nice to her. The last few days, the young girl had made due on her promise, keeping her company and helping her settle into the new household. Cookie had been maybe the nicest adult, other than her parents, she had ever met. She was always around if she had a question and had listened to her vent about the Hunters. The DJ had been nice enough to to help her buy clothes, it apparently was surprising him that the Conductor decided to pitch in with paying for them, Bow had informed her that these two didn't really see eye to eye. By a long shot the weirdest and most enigmatic guy in the household had been this Snatcher character, not only did his appearance make her feel on edge, but his whole demeanor. Only Hattie and Cookie seemed to be interacting with him, Bow had been right to warn her.

Mu leaned back in her chair and started to rock back and forth by leaning far back and then moving forward just a bit so the chair was teetering constantly. Bow gave her a concerned look and was about to open her mouth, but Mu interrupted her. “I know what you're going to say 'It's dangerous, Mu, you shouldn't do this, you'll fall!' I don't care, I'm bored and I need some fun in this place.” Bow looked down at her desk, feeling a bit called out. Hattie on the other hand only sighed, she had been reading the same book for what felt like hours. “Hey, nerd, what are you reading there, some kind of ancient history book or something equally as lame?” Mu smirked, wanting to poke fun at the young sorceress, who only shook her head.

“No, it's a magi-” Bow stopped her by putting her hand in front of Hattie's mouth. The other girl recoiled, but understood the issue a moment later, she had forgotten that they were in the middle of school. “Sorry...”

“It doesn't matter what book it is, reading is lame! So is learning...it's sooo boring.” The blonde girl sat back down normally once English class started and they had to read. It was a book about a small fox that got separated from his mother and was trying to find her.

Thanks to having been in school for a few years before her family got found out and hunted down, Muriel was mostly able to read the paragraph she was supposed to read quite easily, only stumbling a little bit when she had to read a more complicated word. Mu didn't seem to care too much anyway about how well she'd do, as long as she would pass the class with a C or at worst a D. It was amazing to Bow just how quickly Hattie had improved in reading compared to her. It wasn't like she wasn't trying to read or get better in school to get rid of the disadvantage the isolation and lack of education given to them in their lives up until this point had created, it was just that Hattie seemed to pick up things a lot better than her. It caused her to feel a bit dumb and inferior to her sister. When Bow's turn came around, the young changeling struggle to read the words, even easy words still felt rather hard to her. Her embarrassment only increased when the other kids in the class started snickering at her subpar reading skills. Her face turned bright red and she sunk into her chair more and more, her paragraph didn't seem to have an end at all, her tears that blurred her eyes half way through, didn't make it any easier on the girl.

Hattie was too busy to notice having opened her magic book behind the book they were actually reading, now that her turned to read had been over. Mu on the other hand noticed, she felt a bit of rage build up in her and she slammed her fist on her desk, she would have loved to call the other children out for their awful behavior, but she couldn't act up, she'd cause problems for Cookie and so she had to just endure it. She placed a hand on the back of the changeling who would have turned a mix of blue and purple if she hadn't taken her potion this morning. The rest of the day, Bow felt down, even playing hide and seek with Hattie and Mu later during recess didn't cheer her up at all. “What's wrong, sis? Why are you so down?” Hat Kid asked after finding her sister way too quickly, normally Bow was excellent at hiding.

“It's noting...You don't need to worry.” Bow forced a smile through which the other girl saw easily.

Hattie's expression softened a bit and she knelt down to the girl that was only halfway hidden behind a bush. “You can't lie to me, Bow, I know that response, something is bothering you a lot.”

Bow just sighed, a bit frustrated that she had to explain the situation now. “You know how everything comes fairly easy to you? You picked up reading really quickly and even in math, you're doing much better...-” She lowered her head in shame, “-I feel a bit stupid.” Like she expected, Hattie didn't laugh at her confession.

Hattie looked at her sister with understanding and concern. “It's just really easy for me, I can't explain it, but I don't think you're stupid. I just have more of a reason to learn quickly.” The other girl tried to reassure, her efforts unfortunately didn't have the expected result, as instead of Bow's happy, cheerful smile, all the young changeling managed was slight raise of her lip that attempted to be a smile, but failed miserably.

Loud footsteps and even louder yelling startled both kids who's heads snapped over to the annoyed girl in the red hood. “Were you trying to make me wait until I turned old and gray?! If I wanted to bore myself to sleep, I'd go back to class and read!” The previously rather depressing atmosphere switched instantly, neither Bow nor Hattie wanted to be subjected to Muriel's anger.

When school finally ended, Mu charged out of school like she die if she spend another second in the old building. “If tomorrow is going to be as boooring as today, I swear, I might just have to nuke the place.” She more or less screamed at no one in particular as both Bow and Hattie exited a few seconds later. “You two are so slow, I've seen snails move faster.” Mu crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the other two to catch up.”

“This isn't a race, Mu.” Hattie said rather monotonously which only annoyed the hot-headed girl, who scoffed. If Bow hadn't been to caught up in her own rather detrimental thoughts, she would have easily picked up on the tension between the other two girls. Instead, her thoughts ran rampant with her own insecurity. She really felt like she wasn't contributing much compared to Hattie. While Hattie had her strong magic that could be used in all kinds of ways, she had nothing. She couldn't move objects with an unseen force, she couldn't summon a rain cloud to make water appear out of thin air, and she couldn't conjure up a shield like what Hattie was trying to learn and had moderately succeeded in already. Even Mu, who no one had any expectations for, was very agile and strong, with her being a werewolf. A changeling like her had only the ability to change her color...that was all...all she could do anyway. It wasn't useful and posed more of a problem as she couldn't control it at all.

“...Bow!” The purple-eyed girl gasped and nearly jumped out of her skin when Mu waved her hand in front of her face. “You were miiiles away there. I was asking if you wanted to come with me into the forest later.”

“Sorry, I was just...thinking about something.-” Bow explained while Mu gave her a rather annoyed look. “-I'll come with you, maybe we can find some mushrooms.” She forced a small smile which Mu couldn't see through as easily as Hattie could, the blonde haired girl rose her fist up in the air in triumph instead.

“Great idea! I know aaalll the edible ones out there! It will give me an opportunity to do something nice for Cookie.” Mu grabbed Bow's arm quite forcefully and dragged her with her. “We'll go right after lunch.” Bow had trouble keeping up with Mu as she hurried home, passing by Hattie who had been ahead a little, looking equally as spaced out as Bow had been earlier. “Wanna come with us, nerd?”

Hattie nearly tripped after being snapped out of her thoughts. “N-No, I can't, I have more important things to do.”

Mu only rolled her eyes at that answer. “Fine, have fun reading or what other lame thing you had planned.” Mu continued to drag Bow with her, the changeling nearly stumbled several times on the way home, especially now that autumn was near and the trees were losing their leaves, coupled with the rain, the forest ground was quite slippy. When they arrived home, Cookie had left a note, saying that she had gone to work and had left them a stew on the stove that they only needed to heat up. While Bow was preparing the stew according to the instructions left behind, Muriel had gone up to change into something that allowed her tail to be more free, the red-clothed girl wondered if she could just cut a hole in the back of her trousers to put her wolf tail through, it was quite uncomfortable, and she could at least be comfortable at home, right?

Hattie returned home around 5 minutes after the other two, she sat down on the corner bench with a sigh. Bow started to place down three plates of stew, surprisingly, the smell hadn't attracted the werewolf girl yet. Thinking that Hat Kid was upset because Mu and her had rushed ahead, she decided to speak up. “Uh...are you upset?”

Hattie shook her head, not really focusing on Bow's words at all, she didn't even look at her. Contradictory to what that action made Bow believe, Hattie wasn't upset with her, the young sorceress was thinking over how to make that shield spell work. Maybe Snatcher could give her some pointers on how to do it, the instructions in the book were insufficient. “Think of something protective”, was a rather vague description.

Bow mistook Hattie's silence as her being mad at her, causing her to fumble with the hem of her white shirt and looking away. The changeling's sad expression was replaced by one of shock when Mu came barreling down the stairs, looking even more upbeat and energetic when before. “I finally fixed my worst problem, look!” Mu turned to show her tail which was now free as she had cut a hole her other pants which were meant to be worn at home. “It's so much better now, I feel a lot better!” She gave a wide smile and sat down opposite of Hattie. Unlike Hattie, who still hadn't so much as touched her spoon, Mu started to eat like a starved animal.

Bow joined the other two girls, staring down at her plate of stew as if the pieces of meat and vegetables could give her a solution to the issue that troubled her. She absentmindedly just took a spoon full and dropped its contents back down into the bowl. She got torn out of her thoughts by Mu yet again, who spoke up after seeing that she hadn't eaten anything at all yet.

“Come on, you gotta eat something, you won't be able to search for mushrooms with no strength!” Mu got up to get seconds while Bow glanced back at her and then back at the stew. She reluctantly started to eat, by now her food was merely lukewarm. While Mu started to eagerly at her second bowl of stew, and Bow was now eating slowly, Hattie didn't even touch her stew and simply started out the window before she got up and headed upstairs. After they had finished eating Mu got up and grabbed her and Bow's dishes, the young changeling got startled by that. “Let's go! It will get dark if we don't hurry.” Bow just nodded and followed Mu after the werewolf girl had put their dishes in the dishwasher.

While Bow was minding nearly every step she took as to not slip on the muddy and mossy forest ground that was littered with colorful, yet very wet and slippery leaves, Mu jumped from one pile of leaves to the next, kicking the maple and chestnut leaves into the air and watching them tumble back down again. Bow was glad to see the other girl look happy and enjoy herself, but she truly wondered how the more unruly girl managed to not fall flat on her face, she had nearly fallen three times so far and had been lucky that she there had always been a tree for her to catch herself. Bow had to say that she really liked the forest, even if it was slippery, the various shades of red, orange and yellow that the trees and bushes around her sported were incredible beautiful. She really had to try and draw them later when she had time. Even the smell was different, the fragrance of wet moss and wood was definitely preferable to hand sanitizer and the strange chemicals that were used in the laboratories.

“Look Bow, that's an edible mushroom over there!” Bow followed Mu who hurried over to the mushroom to inspect it closer before she picked it up and covered the area where she plucked it from with soil again. “I know this one, I've eaten it before with my father.” The blonde girl handed the mushroom over to Bow who looked at it as if she hadn't ever any sort of fungus in her life. “Have you never seen a mushroom before? It's nothing that interesting, you know.”

Bow shook her head solemnly. “This is the first time that I've seen one in the wild, I've only ever seen them in pictures before.” Mu frowned at Bow's comment and mumbled something under her breath.

“Something bad happened to you and Hattie, right? It's obvious that you two didn't have a normal upbringing, you're way too strange for that.”

Bow looked down at the ground for a moment, being called strange yet again, she wondered if she could ever escape that lab, even now that she was out of it, the simple fact that she knew almost nothing about the world was causing her to feel out of place, like she didn't belong. “We were...raised in laboratory. Both Hattie and I only recently managed to flee.”

Mu gasped in shock, she had thought that Bow and Hattie were much like her, having lost their family due to them being hunted down, but this was truly awful. She had heard about the facilities, that quite a few magical creatures were brought there to be experimented on. “Did they...experiment on you?” Mu asked with an unusually quite tone of voice, yet it still caused the changeling girl to shiver for a moment.

Experiment was a word that would likely haunt her for the rest of her life, the mere mention of the word caused all the bad memories to resurface. Her skin turned to a deep shade of purple, the potion had worn off. Bow nodded, but didn't want to elaborate, she prayed that the werewolf girl wouldn't ask what sort of experiments they had performed on her.

Mu panicked after seeing Bow Kid's color change to purple and she looked afraid. “I-I'm sorry, uh...” She looked around, trying to find something to distract the other girl with. “-There! Uh...a wild apple tree!” Mu pointed at the tree and went over to it, getting one of the small apples. “They're smaller and a bit more sour than the ones you can by at the market, and you have to watch out for worms, but they're super tasty.” She smiled and offered the apple to Bow, who took it and just stared at it for a moment. The sight of the fruit at least got her mind off the terrible memories and Bow tried her hardest to calm herself, telling herself that she was safe. She also didn't want to worry Muriel any further, the young werewolf looked like she was trying really hard to be empathetic.

She took a bite of the apple offered after making sure that there wasn't a hole in it, she had to say that it tasted exactly like Mu had described, sour, but the flavor was a lot stronger. “It's tastes great.” The changeling gave a thumbs up while the blonde haired girl breathed a sigh of relief.

As they headed home, Mu's ears began to twitch, and her fur bristled. “Do you smell that? A boar is in the area. We should take another path.” Mu grabbed Bow's hand and tried to get away. The tension of the blonde girl made Bow feel on edge and she followed as silently as she could. When she turned her head, she spotted the wild animal. She had never seen a wild boar before, but she had to say that, even though it wasn't that big, its tusks looked like they'd hurt if it decided to attack.

“Mu...it found us.” She whispered anxiously and Mu turned toward it, pushing Bow behind her.

“Back away slowly, don't run. It might chase us and they aren't as slow as they might look.” Bow did as she was told and backed away slowly while the boar seemed to watch them. All went well until the slippery and muddy forest ground thwarted they're plan. Bow slipped and fell backwards which startled the boar and made the animal rush toward them. Mu wasted no second and started to let out a loud wolf howl to try to deter the animal, when that didn't work she had to fight. Fighting an animal that weight 300 pounds and above would proof difficult even for a werewolf adult, but for a child, it was pretty much impossible, thankfully, this boar was still quite young and only half the size of a fully grown version of this species. Mu had one advantage though, her speed, she lured the boar toward her by waving her arms and then dodged at the last second when it charged at her, causing the wild pig to collide with a tree which gave her the opening she needed to use her sharper canine teeth to bite the boar's neck. It was enough to deter the wild animal and it ran away, retreating back into the forest. “And don't come back!”

Mu wiped the blood off her mouth while she helped the startled and amazed Bow to her feet. “Wow...A-Are you okay?” Bow asked worrying about her friend while also in complete awe.

Mu smiled with confidence, “Of course I'm okay, a wild boar is no match for me.” Outwardly she portrayed self assurance, inside however she was freaking out, she only hoped that Bow couldn't see how her body was shaking. “We should hurry back before more of these guys show up.” The changeling nodded.

[usafphantom2]

See how was the secret mission that made Joe Biden arrive in Ukraine without Air Force One

Surprisingly, the U.S. president visited the Ukrainian capital, Kiev. For the last part of the trip, Joe Biden renounced plane transport.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 02/21/2013 - 12:40 PM in Military, War Zones

The world was surprised on Monday (20/02) when U.S. President Joe Biden visited Kiev, Ukraine, for the first time since the beginning of the war, almost a year ago. Biden did not land at Kiev airport, arriving in the Ukrainian capital through a well-planned operation and executed in a few hours.

Biden did not fly to Kyiv-Boryspil Airport or any of the other airports in or around the Ukrainian capital because he is very risky in the country that has been covered by the war by Russia for almost a year.

According to several news agencies, Biden took off from Andrews Joint Air Base, southeastern Washington with a Boeing C-32 at 04:15 local time, on February 19 - with the so-called "SAM060" (SAM for Special Air Mission) instead of the usual "Air Force One".

In addition to the employees on board the modified 757, there were only a few journalists selected on board who previously had to deliver their mobile phones. They were informed on Friday and instructed to wait for details on Saturday, with the subject: "Arrival instructions for the golf tournament".

They were instructed to arrive at Andrews air base at 2:15 a.m. local time on Sunday. Both were prohibited from reporting any details for 24 hours.

Several hours before Biden's visit, the sky over Poland was visited by two U.S. Air Force AWACS E-3B Sentry jets and a single Boeing RC-135W 'Rivet Joint' signal intelligence (SIGINT) aircraft. Routine air traffic scanning can easily be interpreted as preparations for the announced visit of the President of the U.S. (POTUS) to Poland, which was announced to take place between February 21 and 22.

A whole series of aircraft is available to the U.S. government. At the Munich security conference last weekend, Vice President Kamala Harris and her delegation traveled with two jets - a Boeing C-32 and a Boeing C-40 Clipper, a military version of the 737-700.

U.S. President Joe Biden on the right and his national security advisor Jake Sullivan on board the train to Kiev. (Photo: AP/ Evan Vucci)

The flight made a stop to refuel after about seven hours in Ramstein, Germany, then landing at Rzeszow-Jesionka airport in Poland, at 7:57 p.m. local time. From there, Biden drove in a car convoy to Przemysl Glówny, where he got on a train that took him to Kiev on a trip that lasted It is the same route used to transport large amounts of aid and hundreds of thousands of refugees going in the opposite direction.

U.S. President Joe Biden after arriving by train in Kiev. (Photo: AP/Evan Vucci)

The train arrived around 8 a.m. in Kiev, where Biden met Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy.

On the morning of February 20, Kiev was surprisingly quiet. Public transport was partially interrupted in the city center and public spaces released.

Finally, around 12 p.m. local time, the first filming of President Joe Biden leaving the monastery of São Miguel along with President Volodymyr Zelensky was published on social networks.

Zelensky and Biden honored the Ukrainian soldiers killed during the conflict, since operations in Donbass in 2014, at St. Michael's Monastery and took a short tour of the city.

The leaders held a joint press conference where strong words were shared by Biden condemning the Russian aggression and emphasizing Western solidarity with Ukraine. Biden said:

"When Putin launched his invasion almost a year ago, he thought that Ukraine was weak and the West was divided. He thought he could survive us. But he was completely wrong.

President Joe Biden leaves Air Force One upon arriving at a military airport in Warsaw, Poland, Monday, February 20, 2023. (Photo: AP Photo/Evan Vucci)

The visit also announced promises of delivery of new equipment totaling US$ 500 million. The U.S. will provide more artillery equipment along with HIMARS ammunition and new sanctions will also be imposed on individuals and companies still operating in Russia, supporting their invasion of Ukraine. Biden also announced other “critical equipment”, including anti-shielded systems and air surveillance radars. But no combat jets yet.

The media audience was only allowed to make the itinerary public when Biden had already left again - again by railroad towards Poland. On the night of the 20th, Biden landed in Warsaw with the C-32 aircraft.

The White House national security consultant told the American media that Russia was informed “some hours” before Biden’s trip to Kiev. This was done "to mitigate the situation". He did not go into detail about how accurate or vague the information was and how Moscow reacted.

Overview of a Boeing C-32 Air Force One aircraft at Jasionka Airport, Poland, on February 20, 2023. (Photo: Patryk Ogorzalek/Agencja Wyborcza.pl via REUTERS)

POTUS' visit to Ukraine signals the West's continued support for Kiev. With the official statement of the White House noting that “last year, the United States built a coalition of nations from the Atlantic to the Pacific to help defend Ukraine with unprecedented military, economic and humanitarian support – and that support will last.”

Tags: Military AviationC-32AUSAF - United States Air Force / US Air ForceWar Zones - Russia/Ukraine

Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[lindsaystravelblogs5]

Days 12-14 The North Pole!!

Saturday

I doubt if anyone but me noticed it, but for the first time in history, my blog was up to date when I went to bed last night.  (Yet another first for this expedition!!!)  I can’t promise that it will ever happen again, but this voyage is quite unlike the others we have done, with a bit more personal time, so we will live in hope. (Having said that it might never happen again, I have great hopes that I will achieve it again in the next couple of hours!)

It was a relatively quiet day today, dull and overcast all day, with the temperature hovering between about minus three and minus eight.  Despite this, there were plenty of smaller activities to engage the plebs, and as plebs, we enjoyed a few of them.  The daily challenge is a little highlight of my day, and so far, I think we have only lost a total of three points in the six or seven challenges they have had so far – and some are REALLY challenging.  We didn’t spend much time on deck, but we certainly needed our parkas when we were out in the elements.

We had a couple of lectures and an ‘exposition’ of this amazing ship by the captain and chief engineer (that I almost missed because I fell asleep in our cabin).  I won’t say much more about the ship because if anyone read my Antarctic blog last year, I think I described quite a bit about the ship, its features and its amazing electronic artwork (lindsaystravelblogs1.tumblr.com – Antarctica from Argentina).

There was also a very special brunch today, with the chef delivering an amazing array of food in the ‘posh’ restaurant – our usual slightly less formal ‘café’ being closed for the occasion.  The food was extraordinary but like almost all French cuisine, much too rare for my taste.  I have also commented before on the wine – all French (but of course, Monsieur) – a poor imitation of the wines we have grown to love in Australia and South America.  But still, someone needs to keep the French wine industry afloat, and I reckon they owe us a medal.

We have had a little more snow today, all very fine flakes and not a lot of it, although the table on our balcony had a couple of centimetres of it this morning.  Amazingly, we have had no bad weather at all – a bit windy at times, but not a soul could complain of even a twinge of mal-de-mer!

During tonight’s recap, they told us that our reaching the Polar Point of Inaccessibility had been officially recorded in the annals of maritime achievements.  They promised to give us a copy of the official record and I will post a photo when we receive it. (It arrived next day. See the last paragraph under the Arctic heading.)

The ice continues to fascinate me.  It is not really possible to show photos of it but, apart from its exquisite beauty, its physical properties and the way it moves and interacts with nearby areas of ice is mesmerising.  As the ship ploughs through, the thin grey ice-film on the surface (the ice that has very recently frozen due to the frigid air) is barely interrupted – I imagine it must disappear under the ship.  But the metre or two of pristine white ice, churns and cracks and bustles its neighbours, roiling the water and turning turtle, cracking and breaking almost like the five and six metre ice in the Antarctic.  We stand on our balcony and watch until it gets too cold, but it is quite phantasmagorical.  The wonders of nature.

During the recap, one of the scientists told us about their intention to leave a case of scientific instruments on the ice when we leave the North Pole on Monday.  These instruments will measure the ice depth and temperature gradient through the ice, as well as the depth and pressure below the ice, continuously over the next few months.  All the ice is continuously moving and as the ice on which the case is left heads towards the Atlantic Ocean, it will slowly melt and the case will eventually sink to the bottom of the sea.  They have done similar experiments over a few years and the ice has always taken the same course until it melts somewhere near the northern end of Iceberg Alley and they expect this case will follow suit - does that make it a suitcase?   We all had the opportunity to write our names on the case so when it sinks, a little bit of us will sink with it.  We both inscribed our names on it so when it goes down to the depths, we will go down in history. 

Just in case........

Sunday – 15 September – the North Pole

We awoke this morning to the most amazing sight.  The captain made an announcement that we should all look out on the port side to see the Sun Dog, or parhelion - an amazing view of the sun pillar between what looked like two segments of a rainbow.  It persisted for a few hours and is caused by the sun shining through, and being refracted by, ice crystals.  As the sun rose higher, the mini-rainbows faded slightly, but appeared to spread further apart and extend further along the ‘bow’.  I read that the distance from the sun to its associated rainbow parentheses is around 22 degrees.  It was an incredible phenomenon that lasted for quite some hours until it became lost in the fog.  

Of course, the highlight of the day was reaching the top of the world - the Geographic North Pole.   It was a huge event and we were all summoned out to the helicopter deck with the captain broadcasting that he was not crossing to the North Pole until we were all on deck - not that he had any way of knowing if we were all there or not.  There certainly was a huge crowd of passengers and staff with the countdown from 89 degrees, 59 minutes and 50 seconds to the magical 90.00.00 being broadcast to huge anticipation, and then acclamation, from the entire assemblage.  For almost all of us, it was a lifetime of wonder and anticipation coming to pass in a magic moment.   There was a long blast on the ship’s horn (followed by several more a little later), with a long line of flares being lit, much singing and dancing.  The helicopter was parked to one side and there was a quarantined area in the middle of the deck that opened and the helicopter elevator slowly arose covered in tables crammed with glasses of French champagne and many kilos of black caviar – all to be consumed by the excited horde.  (The helicopter is normally housed below deck and the deck opens up and the elevator platform lifts the helicopter into position for its deployment - but they made better us of the device today.) The captain has been beside himself with excitement all day. (He has the enthusiasm of a roomful of little kids and it is completely infectious. He has really added enormously to this trip - in complete contrast to the captain of the same ship we were on inthe Antarctic!) He made a short speech to commemorate the occasion before popping the cork on a magnum of bubbles (using a short sword in the traditional way) and spraying all who were close enough to cop it. Then we all got into champagne and caviar! What an event!!!

I tried to photograph the screen on Deck 5 when the ship was at exactly 90 degrees North but missed it by a few seconds.  Because the ice is always moving, it is almost impossible to hold a ship in an exact position for more than a couple of seconds.  (As an example, during our first walk on the ice a couple of days ago, the ship and the entire enormous icefloe on which we were tethered moved 1.7 kilometres south, despite them keeping the engines running throughout to stabilise the ship. And overnight last night, the ship moved about 17 kilometres, despite being embedded in the huge icefloe.)  Once the celebrations died down a little, the ship moved to a better position for our afternoon landing and I was watching the screen as the ship nudged westward to its new position.  Because we were so close to the Pole, the lines of meridian are very close together and as I watched, the screen showed us moving from 50 degrees East to 22 degrees West (almost a third of the way around the world) within about a minute.  I wonder how many other people have observed that in the last few thousand years? Certainly less than I could count on my fingers.

They let down the gangway on to the ice so everyone could enjoy a few hours on the ice during the afternoon. It snowed most of the day, often a bit heavier than on previous days, but almost everyone went our for some time. The Chinese, in particular, revelled in it, jumping around, lying in it and taking tens of thousands of photos - probably hundreds of thousands.

The crew set up some items in the snow to focus the photography and we indulged ourselves too for an hour or so. We posted some postcards in the international letterbox (I wonder what stamps will appear on them) and posed at the signpost showing distances to many places around the world. Interestingly, no matter which way the signpost pointed every single destination was due south from our location. The only Australian destination on the signpost was Sydney at 13,773 kilometres away.

We also posed with a fake walrus and polar bear and several of the signs, as well as tasting a couple of hot drinks and helping to eat the profiteroles outlining a giant '90' on the snow. There was also a ginormous '90' outlined in rope, and all the passengers lined the rope for a photo demonstrating our position. The whole team had worked hard to make the occasion unforgettable and they really excelled themselves. We only stayed out in the cold for an hour or so, but then stood freezing on the deck watching the scientists take their case of instruments out on the ice, at least fifteen hundred metres by my guess, until they were mere dots in a world of ice. It took them ages to set it all up out there and we got very cold watching them through my telephoto lens, but they eventually abandoned their treasure with our inscribed names and returned to the ship. They wanted to take it well away from the edge of the floe in case pieces broke off and they lost it before it gave them much data.

Leaving the case behind. At least a kilometre and a half out on the ice and at the extreme limit of my telephoto to even focus on them.

The nightly recap was interesting with a lot of avid passengers enormously excited about their day on the ice. Some of the more sensible ones (like us) enjoyed watching the ice, rather than lying in it or trudging through forty centimetres of snow, and freezing in the process, but the whole day was great fun and had a great sense of achievement about it.

Monday

We have stayed on board all day today, blogging and doing quite a few little tasks that had accumulated over the past week - never a quiet moment when there is work to be done. The daily challenge was two extremely difficult Sudokus that took ages to complete, but at lest we got them done eventually to keep our reasonably good record intact.

A lot of people are out in the cold, enjoying their exercises at the North Pole, but we stayed warm inside and just watched from time to time. Santa called in on a sled (we think his reindeer were on holiday somewhere warmer) and lots of people were photograaphed with him. He exorted several of them to eat their vegetables, or to clean their teeth every day, even to drink more milk - all good things in themselves, but he also regretted that so many people didn't believe in him these days and that made him sad.

A few more people did the Polar Plunge - in a big hole chain-sawed out of the ice. They had to keep skimming the ice that kept forming on the surface so it was certainly cold.

I am going to post this now and if there is anythhing more to report from the rest of the day, I will start with that tomorrow.

[swimmingsirenindierp]

Solymar could see the shift in him, and a thrill ran up her spine. His dark eyes were suddenly almost hungry as he looked at her. It was hard to make Solymar blush, but as she watched him, a slight hue crept across her cheeks. She wasn't totally clueless, she had obviously had some idea he had been interested in her. Who would offer up something like this if they weren't interested in the person they were taking a trip with. Frankly, she was the biggest reason she had said yes, there were of course all the perks of traveling with a wealthy man. But he was more than that, and she was realizing it with every passing moment.

A giggle slipped past her lips as she looked at him carefully. She slowly shook her head as she smiled at him. "Well you don't need to worry because I'm not taken." He tilts his to the side and that face of him almost looks primal, she feels goosebump on her arm raise as her hazel eyes watch him. She leans closer to him, now only inches apart as she looks over at him. "Well I mean, might be a good idea, 12 hours is a very long time." She nodded in agreement. She reached out placing her hand on his knee, her fingertips walking up towards his thigh, she moved with a slow curious movement. "I know this is a private jet and all, but do we need to worry about anyone interrupting us?"

at this moment, wells felt as if chains had been lifted from his shoulders and he could finally act the way he wanted to in full. his interest in her had started out professionally enough, but at this point, wells has long crossed that line into something more intimate. but he would have cut that off if he felt as if she was attached emotionally to someone else. wells was the kind of man to go after what he wanted, but not if that meant snatching it away from someone else who was deserving. and wells definitely wanted solymar. every inch of her created desire in him, those mysterious eyes, every single solitary curve, the legs that seemed nearly endless. the millionaire wanted all of it. all of her. and he wanted it all to himself. that was the entire point of this runaway vacation with one another.

"who knows? perhaps you were dating someone stupid enough not to realize what they have in you. " or maybe they were poly. either way, wells wanted to be certain that whatever happened on their trip would be okay. a smirk stretched onto his face and head tilts to the side, almost as if he was a lion about to pounce on prey. it should have been obvious what he was about to ask next. because solymar seemed to be open to it all when it came to him. " either way, i don't feel bad about asking my next question. we are about to spend two weeks attached at the hip. and i think it'd be a waste of time wondering if there is going to be sexual chemistry. we've got twelve hours. any interest in joining the mile high club, gorgeous? "

[cidthecoatrack-blog]

This is a place where I can post anything with basically zero (0) concern of the "wrong" someone seeing it, so here we go:

I was let go from my company beginning of June, so I have been on the job hunt. I work in tech, and it's common for recruiters to match candidates to employers (they get a commission based on the candidate's salary if the employer hires them). I have worked with many recruiters, some better than others. Almost every job I have had in my career has been through a recruiter. Nothing against recruiters, in fact I like working with them because they handle negotiations for me (I am wildly non-confrontational). So all in all, no complaints.

TODAY, however, there are Complaints (TM).

Recruiter emails me asking to schedule a time for a call, say they have opportunities that would be a good match for me. This is not abnormal. However, this woman is AGGRESSIVE. I am talking 5 emails in as many minutes. And this is after 4:30 PM. Flag #1.

I sent her my resume and basic compensation expectations. She immediately responds asking for the best number to reach me.

Folks, the number is literally at the top of the resume I just sent her. Flag #2.

She asks when would work best. I say before 1 the next day, because I have other obligations later that day. She schedules a 30 min call at 12:30. Cutting it close, but that's fine.

My dear friends, at 12:26, she abruptly rescheduled it for 4:30 PM that same day. Which, notably, is not in a time frame I said I would be available. Also, this was not asked. No "hey can we reschedule". She just changed the calendar invite without checking. Flag #3

As it turned out, I could make it work. She calls at 4:30. Folks, we have barely gotten through introductions when she IMMEDIATELY launches into a rant about my strong preference for remote work. Like, at least 5 minute rant, if not closer to 10. Saying absolutely no one will hire remote. All employers want in office. Oh, how she WISHED it would be remote, makes her job so much easier, and she "totally understood" why I am not willing to spend my time and money to be less productive, but kept repeating how it was a non-starter for every employer.

Let me tell you something, my dear readers. I have applied to well over a hundred jobs over the past few weeks, the vast majority of which were remote-only. I am deep in the interview process with several companies, all of whom are very aware that I want remote. And who are more than happy to grant it. Even prefer it. For context, one of these companies is Electronic Arts (the video game company). The other is Hewlett Packard. These are not small players. So I know this is complete bullshit she is spewing. Flag #4

I had mentioned when I sent the resume that I was interviewing with several companies, so new opportunities would have to move quickly. I had not mentioned the names of said companies. However, she briefly interrupts her tirade about my unreasonable demands to ask what the companies were. I mention them, notably HP. She then says, "Well, a lot of companies say remote, but then the offer is hybrid, or it's remote and then they switch to in office after a few months. Here, let me google the HP work from home policy. Hmm, this seems to say you have to be in office 3 days a week, and they have a tracker so they know your location, definitely not remote." Lord knows what she was reading. But this was where it dawned on me that she was Negging me. Flag #WTF

Also, for what it was worth, even IF a company wanted to pull the nonsense she described, one of the other companies I am DEEP in the interview process with is based on the west coast, hires all over the country, and wants ONLY remote. So she can stuff it with "no one hires remote" bullshit.

I explain that when I did go into the city (I live outside NYC) for my previous job, it was 2 hours. Each way. She brushes it off. "Oh, I don't live far from where you are, it's more manageable than that." Like, does she think I don't know how fucking TIME works? That somehow when I left the house at 9, I DIDN'T get to the office at 11:15? Still, she starts to look at other places, ones that are a 30 minute drive each way from my house. "These would be 3 days a week in office. And you definitely can't ask for more money. And they won't negotiate on anything." Pardon, but, My Dear Bitch, IT'S YOUR WHOLE DAMN JOB TO NEGOTIATE. Thanks for advertising you are terrible at this. "But you know, these FinTech companies always have lots of good perks and stuff." Huh, notably, you don't mention what any of those perks might be. Is it because you don't understand them, or that you are just making shit up to compensate for your inability to do your job, to negotiate a better salary for me?

Hah, that reminds me: she claimed to "specialize" in FinTech companies. FinTech = Finance Tech. These are your hedge funds, your tech start ups. These things are RIFE with cash, and if you have the skills they want, they will throw a Scrooge McDuck comical amount of money at you. And yet, she was adamant that because of my stated minimum salary requirements, that I would be at the upper end of their salary ranges, and I definitely couldn't get more money. I am a software developer with over 10 years of experience. I have done literally everything under the sun and will pick up new things at the drop of a hat. My minimum salary requirements are me taking a full DECADE to realize how much I am actually worth, and asserting myself that I will not be taken advantage of anymore. And you have the GALL to tell me that a hedge fund owned by whoever it is that owns the Mets (she made a point about that, but she did know his name, I have since forgotten and will not be bothered to google it) can't afford to pay more? And while being "young" and "hip", still subscribe to the ancient practice of Butts In Seats, and not Just Get the Shit Done From Wherever? Flag #What absurd Shakespearean tragedy is this

Oh, did I mention she was cursing left and right? Dropped multiple F bombs casually. Personally, I couldn't give a fuck about language, but it was a certain flavor of Icing on an Unprofessionalism Cake. Kept trying to excuse it as "oh I am old school, I am a dinosaur, I won't sugar coat things. These YOUNGER recruiters will blow smoke up your ass and tell you anything you want, but I deal with reality. I put a lot of people off, they leave to work with someone else, and 3 months later they call me and say I was right all along." Tell me you're a Boomer without telling me you're a Boomer.

Oh, and let us not omit the strange ageism either. "Yeah, so this company sounds up you're alley. Their Finance, young and hip, sounds like you." What, other than Not Sounding Like a Dinosaur, told you I am "young" and "hip"? I am a 33 year old father. I am neither young nor hip. And honestly, in the tech world, I am myself the dinosaur for the most part. But perhaps compared to you, I do possess such youth and vigor.

Strangest and most unpleasant phone call I have ever had.

[mysticmousecat]

A Hypothesis For Your Thoughts? Part 2 (NSFW...sort of)

And we continue with the theme of Viktor being a massive fucking tease and knowing exactly what he’s doing to you

Words: 5k

Warnings: Sexual situations, Viktors endless fucking teasing, you’re both being horny on main

If Viktor’s intentions that day had been to irreversibly wedge himself into every facet of your thoughts, then he did a truly exemplary job. On your way back to your rooms, where you very courageously hid for the remainder of the day, you couldn’t find it in yourself to look anyone in the eyes, however by the time you’d actually made it you found yourself feeling awfully silly. You let the frigid water of the shower wash over you, effectively dousing the molten flames under your skin and actually allowing the first coherent thought through in what felt like hours. And that first coherent thought went a little something like ‘What. The. Fuck?’ Viktor hadn’t even really done anything, he touched you. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve felt his hands on you, you’ve known him a long time and helped him with numerous experiments, so why did it effect you so much this time? Sure, his touch has always had some kind of effect on you, but never this violently overwhelming. Though it had felt less like he was touching you and more like he was…caressing you? That was the only word you could find to describe exactly what had happened. But you knew one thing for sure, you were not going to be prepared for the next time you saw Viktor.

That god damned inventor occupied nearly every one of your thoughts for the remainder of the week, his amber eyes that seemed to bore into your soul every time they met yours, his dexterous hands on your skin, maneuvering your body in whatever manner needed to complete his desired task, his mahogany colored hair that you’d seen perfectly unkempt far too many times for your mind not to associate it with other not so saintly acts that could achieve the same look…and his god forsaken voice. Who made it fair for him to have such power over you, power that he didn’t even know he had!

You pushed the thoughts from you head, for the millionth time that day, it wasn’t like it was going to happen again. It was a one off, unrepeatable, the testing for that particular invention was done. You had seen Viktor again numerous times over the remainder of the week, and everything seemed back to normal, he was completely unaffected, as expected considering this was a event between only you, yourself and your mind. See totally fine, normal…normal.

You found a new hatred for that word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You walked around the room, it wasn’t densely packed, only a few students. You were surprised at how few students actually did poorly enough on Professor Heimerdinger’s exam to actually require additional tutoring, your class consisted of 10 maybe 12 students max, all of which were engrossed in the equations sitting in front of them.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I’m not sure about question 15.” One of the students asked while you were turned assisting another student with the same question, you were about to turn to address them when another voice beat you to it.

“Well, what are your variables?” You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, his honeyed voice always sent chills down your spine. When you finally did muster up the courage to turn you saw exactly what you knew you would, a student listening intently as Viktor explained the premise of the equation they were stuck on and then explaining how to get the solution. You stood there and admired for a moment, just watching as Viktor’s mind worked, he always got such a specific spark in his eyes when he was explaining physics, one that was ingrained in your mind the first time you saw it. Maybe that was it, the moment you fell in love with him.

Viktor was patient, never interrupting your class, never trying to get your particular attention, not that he needed to try very hard anyway. He simply observed from the wall beside the door, leaned back against it, hands hidden in his pockets, cane leaning against the wall beside him. With the way he was standing it made sure you got an uninterrupted view of him, his lean frame coupled with his staggering height, how his waistcoat hugged his torso in just the perfect way, his right leg lazily crossed in front of his left. When you’d first met Viktor, he’d been quite sickly, suffering from an illness derived from his childhood in Zaun, already an immunocompromised child the toxins in the air weren’t doing him any favors and they’d caught up with him in his mid-20’s. You’d never seen the worst of it, he was in the beginnings of recovery when you’d shown up, but you’ve seen photos, documentation photos taken by Jayce to show the progress of Hextech, his clothes practically hung off of him , he was gaunt and pale and…deathly, it was that very research that ended up ultimately saving Viktor’s life, although “that research had its costs” is what Viktor tells you, he’s never expanded on that though.

Looking at him now, Viktor was still thin, he probably always would be honestly, but he’d filled out a little more, his clothing fit him for one, the color had returned to his face and while he certainly still had the dark circles under his eyes from the numerous tireless nights spent working in the lab, (Some lessons we never learn) he looked alive. And looking at him was certainly something you were having a very hard time not doing when you were supposed to be teaching a group of students.

Soon enough the class ended and students started making their way out, returning to their normal schedules as you collected their papers for grading later, soon enough it was just you and Viktor left in the room, and while the room was spacious, designed to house classes of 60 students at a time, the second it was just you and Viktor it felt significantly smaller, you could practically feel his body heat from across the room.

“What can I do for you Viktor?” You inquired, clipping the papers together for easier transport to your rooms. You could hear him push himself off of the wall, hear as he approached you, but you didn’t dare look at him. You weren’t lying when you’d said you had interacted with Viktor multiple times since that day in the lab, however you hadn’t been alone with him since then, and the anticipation in your gut as he got closer was close to painful.

“Just returning at item,” He said plainly, you glanced over and saw your coat in his hand, the same one he had so agonizingly stripped you of just days before, before equally as agonizingly torturing you with touches more sensual than any lover had been able to provide to you in the past. “It was left in the lab the other day.”

“Thank you.” You stated as you reached to accept the garment from him, but he simply held it further from your grasp, you only had a moment to be confused before Viktor spoke again.

“Please, allow me,” He said, holding the piece of clothing out, making his intentions clear. Tentatively he stepped behind you, beginning the process of inching the material of the coat up your arms, his fingers gliding against your skin, he was standing so close to you, you could feel his breath on your skin. He pulled the coat up slowly, agonizingly slow, by the time he reached your shoulders you felt like you were ready to pass out. He laid the fabric down on your shoulders in its proper place, in the process managing ghost his fingertips against your bare neck, your heart was about to jump into your throat. “Wouldn’t want you catching cold.” Viktor said finally, his breath over the shell of your ear igniting hot coals in your stomach and making your eyes loose focus, you narrowly avoided a whimper, swallowing it down hard. You thought Viktor was about to retreat, his job here was done so it was time for him to step back, but instead you felt a hot, almost too firm, grip on your hips and before you knew it you were being spun around, forced to face the man who had put you in such a state. You avoided Viktor’s eyes, knowing he could see just how hot your face was, the blush probably reached down below the collar of your shirt, but he never faltered, his fingers coming up to begin buttoning the front of the coat, making it almost all the way to your chest before he finally pulled them back, instead choosing to once again, rest his hands on your hips. Finally, you gained the courage to look up at him, and as expected he was cool and collected as ever, although if you looked closely…was he breathing harder?

“There. Perfect.” He said calmly, he wasn’t looking at your jacket when he said it, instead his gaze was fixed on your still very flushed face. There was a certain look in his eyes, you noticed, one that you’d seen several times, but usually you only saw it in your own reflection after particular thoughts of the very man in front of you got you particularly heated. Before you got the chance to dwell on it too long, Viktor’s hands left you hips and he stepped back, giving you the space you’d been craving not minutes prior. “Anyway, good day, (y/n).” Viktor began making his way to the door before stopping in front of it. “Oh before I forget,” He started, not fully turning toward you. “Would you be able to lend your assistance with that device again, I’ve made some adjustments.”

You stared at the man in your doorway for a moment. That device, he meant the one he used to practically torture you with the other day. You should say no. Say you’re busy. Something came up. There was no way you’d be able to endure that again.

“Jayce unavailable again?” You asked instead.

“No, he’s available.” Viktor answered plainly, I specifically want you is what you heard between the lines. The grin he shot you before he exited the room was positively wicked, and you knew you’d never be able to say no to this man. “Oh, and wear a skirt!” You heard him yell just before he was out of ear shot.

A skirt…

 You know it probably would have been worth your while to question exactly why Viktor wanted you to wear a skirt when you came to the lab later that evening, but nope, didn’t even cross your mind did it? The one you’d picked, you picked for a reason. You see, after the jacket incident, you saw something in Viktor’s eyes, something you recognized immediately…lust. Seeing it got the wheels turning in your head, mulling over the other day when he’d used you in testing his heart monitor, the way his fingers lingered over your skin, the way he stood so close to you, the way he took his time in strapping you in, pulling reactions from you one by one. Thinking about it now, with the knowledge you gained in the classroom, you realized something, there was absolutely no way Viktor didn’t know what he was doing to you, not a chance, and he revealed that at the end of the prototype testing. The entire time he spent driving you up the wall with touches and caresses, heightening your senses to near oversensitivity, by the time the test was over you were at the brink of too much, and right when you were expecting him to push you over the edge of just what you could handle…he stopped. He removed the belts and straps quickly and his fingers hardly grazed your skin the entire time, which meant only one thing. He was observing you, running tests on more than just his invention, he was gaging your reactions and tolerance, seeing how far he could push you before it was too much…he was a scientist after all. But here’s the thing….

So are you.

You have a hypothesis, and while Viktor is running his tests on you and his device, you’ll be conducting your own, not that he needs to know that yet.

As you made the trek from your quarters to the lab you were mulling over your plan, you weren’t going to tell Viktor anything, weren’t going to tell him that you thought he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, because right now you were only about 55% sure, and you couldn’t afford to be wrong. Not with this. No, you needed to run tests, confirm your hypothesis before you made a move, and your first test was currently swaying around your thighs as you walked. Viktor had requested you wear a skirt, and boy howdy were you wearing a skirt! It was short, long enough to cover the important bits, you’re not trying to get ahead of yourself here, but short enough to expose a very generous portion of your thighs, he wanted a skirt, and who were you to disappoint?

You pushed open the doors to the lab, inside sat Viktor, tinkering with some kind of contraption, fully engulfed in determining its secrets, and to the far right sat Jayce, going over what looked like lab notes, of course he was the one who actually noticed your arrival, eyes darting up from his papers when you approached the center of the room.

“(y/n) what a surprise, what brings you?” Jayce greeted you warmly, as always, and his boisterous welcome is what drew Viktor’s attention away from the cube in his hand, instead turning his head to greet you, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your legs for a moment. 60%.

“I’m helping Viktor with testing one of his inventions,” You said with feigned confidence. “Again.” You added at the end, looking directly at Viktor when you said it. Jayce looked over at Viktor, confused for a moment.

“Which device?” He asked, so Viktor hadn’t told Jayce what he’d been working on hm? Interesting.

Viktor seemed to search for an answer for a moment before settling on, “Just a project I’ve been working on, miss (Y/L/N) has been kind enough in testing its prototype.” Viktor and Jayce shared a look and a image or realization seemed to cross Jayce’s features before he abruptly stood from his seat.

“Well would you look at the time! Mel is expecting me any minute now and you know how she hates when I’m late.” And with that Jayce collected his lab notes and promptly, and quite oddly you might add, fled the room, leaving you alone…with Viktor. Suddenly your feigned confidence melted away and you were left only with the knowledge of the absolute torture you were about to endure. Again.

“So, tell me,” You started, slowly making your way toward Viktor as he made his way to stand up. “What alterations have you made to this contraption of yours?”

Viktor grinned at you, although you did notice that he kept his gaze pointedly aimed at your face, interesting. “Well, you see, I realized after our last test that the prototype did not have nearly enough points of contact, of I fixed that.” Before you could ask him to explain further you once again felt his firm grip on your hips, when had he gotten that close? He walked you backwards until your back hit the table. “Stay.” Is all he said, one word and he had your insides in knots. You needed to keep your composure! You needed to watch him! You needed to be right.

Viktor had his back to you, pulling familiar straps and cords from a compartment under his desk. You observed his fluffy mop he called hair, it curled at the ends, indicating it was getting a little too long, you’d have to convince him to cut it soon, his broad shoulders, his long torso and even longer legs, there wasn’t anything about him you didn’t consider absolute perfection, he was beautiful, so beautiful it made your chest ignite with emotions that up until you’d met him you’d never really felt before. You’d thought you’d been in love in the past, but nothing compared to what you felt when you looked at the man standing before you, he was tall and lean and clever and passionate and everything you could ever hope to ask for and GOD you hoped you were right. 65%, that’s where you were at right now, hopefully by the end of the night you’d be at 100% and you’d have a certain scientist in your bed. Viktor pulled you out of your thoughts as he approached you again, straps and belts in hand, luckily, you’d come sans coat so he couldn’t use that to torture you again. Voluntarily you presented him with your wrists, you were going to maintain control tonight, you had to.

 Okay you really should have known there was no way in hell that was going to happen. The second his fingertips touched the skin of your wrists your entire body sparked to life, like an electric jolt running through your arms and directly to your core. He pulled the straps tight, at one point giving a particularly rough yank and nearly knocking you off kilter for a moment, his eyes met yours briefly and again, you saw the same look you noticed in the classroom. 70%.

Your heart was already racing, and you’d only just begun. The next straps were due for your upper arms, he was gentler with these, careful not to bruise or pinch your sensitive skin, his nimble fingers ghosting over your flesh agonizingly slow as he fitted the belt to you. “Is this too tight?” He asked, gazing into your eyes for any signs of discomfort. You shook your head, your ability to speak hindered by the heavy gaze he had affixed to you.

“Use your words, (y/n).” Fuck!

“No, it’s not too tight.” Viktor gave you a smile before returning to his task, retrieving the other belt from the table, and moving to your other side. 87%.

His movements were just as slow with this one, taking his time, caressing your skin with such care and attention to detail, logging every single movement you made, every noise that may or may not escape your throat, every single reaction he paid painfully close attention to, at one point the back of his hand had brushed against your sternum and caused you to let out a small gasp, you’d distinctly felt when his grasp on your arm tightened in reaction. 94%.

Viktor made for the final belt, the one you knew would go over your chest. He made a spinning motion with his index finger and you turned, giving him your back, lifting your arms as you had the previous time. You felt his chest against your back, his arms come around your sides, forearms brushing against your waist as he brought the belt up to sit just above your breasts, the shirt you wore was low, so it lay flush against your hot skin. He adjusted the belt to be in the correct place, and in the process brushed his knuckles against you and you nearly whined…nearly. Your mind was reeling, heart beating faster than you thought it ever had and hot magma was flowing through your veins, honestly giving a score of anything but 100% at this point was just you prolonging the inevitable, and so you took a breath, gathered what little courage was left, and said what you had been so sure you’d never say.

“So, are you going to keep using this device of yours as an excuse to touch me, or are you going to do it for real?” You asked and thanked god he wasn’t looking at your face right now because you were sure it was beet red, your nerves sparking under your skin, anxiety rising up to the surface, you closed your eyes, what if you were wrong? What if you were overthinking harmless gestures and jumping to conclusions?

There was a pause, a pause that seemed to last forever, and right when you were about to speak again, take back your words, Viktor gave a particularly rough tug, yanking you back and knocking the air from your lungs in the most pleasurable way.

“Too tight?” Viktor asked against your ear, barely more than a whisper that made electricity shoot down your spine. You grinned, that wasn’t the voice of a man who’s mind housed innocent thoughts.

“Perfect.” You let out, and you prayed he picked up on that being directed at not just the tightness of the belt. Your back was once again against the table in no time, Viktor stood before you, two more straps in his hands. Before you could ask where he intended to put them, he sank to his knees in front of you, and you had to grip the table to keep yourself in check. The image of Viktor on his knees before you would haunt your dreams in the most delicious of ways for years to come, and with the way he was looking up at you, his heady gaze told you he intended it that way.

Just as you’d begun to recover, your heartrate spiked again when you felt a warm hand on the back of your knee, lightly lifting your leg toward him. Balancing your weight on your remaining knee, which was already about to give out from under you, you practically held yourself up on the table, watching as Viktor’s dexterous fingers trailed their way up from your knee agonizingly slow, every place he touched on fire, heat building in your core so hot you considered the idea that he may be able to push you over the edge just like this, just with the simplest of touches. Your breathing was erratic, and you knew it was obvious but you also didn’t care, you just didn’t want him to stop, but he did stop and it was at that point that you remembered why exactly he was down there in the first place.

The belt was thick and rough against the tender skin of your thigh, but Viktor was gentle and precise with how he fitted it, taking the upmost care in ensuring it didn’t hurt you. At one point Viktor leaned in close to finally fasten the belt and you could feel his breath on your inner thigh. You couldn’t hold back the whine that escaped your lips. You didn’t dare look down at him, but you had the sneaking suspicion he was smirking. His voice is what pulled your mind out of its fog.

“I was tempted to tell you to wear the same outfit from the other morning, would have given me plenty of room to work.” You knew exactly what he was referring to, you’d almost forgotten about that, you’d felt so exposed to him, however here Viktor was, with easy access to you, hands dangerously close to where you wanted them most and yet you felt nothing but excitement, desire for him to take that final step and stop his god forsaken teasing.

“Why didn’t you?”

“We wouldn’t have made it this far if you had.” The look in his eyes bore through your soul, his breath ghosting over your skin, your breath hitched in your throat, the implications of his words making your head spin. Finally, he finished fastening that damned belt, but before he moved on to the other one, he quietly leaned forward, pressing his lips against the tender skin of your inner thigh and you were seconds away from begging, begging him to stop playing this game with you and finally give you what you knew you both wanted. But Viktor was never one to lose control of himself, especially when the result of his actions was so amusing to him. Though you could tell even he was growing impatient, if the quickness with which he affixed the second belt to your other thigh was anything to go by.

You were breathing heavy by the time Viktor rose from his place on the ground, the light dusting of pink over his pronounced cheek bones indication of the effect you’d had on him. His hands found your hips again and you leaned into his touch, finally allowed to, his hands worked their way from your hips to your waist to your ribs and back down again, you gripped the table tighter to keep yourself from collapsing, you were nearing your limit, you wouldn’t be able to take much more of this without something else—anything.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it was to keep my hands to myself that morning?” Viktor asked. You remembered how he’d stayed in the doorway for most of the visit, never entering the room until the very end, had only you known it was because he was trying not to pounce on you at the time, you had a feeling things would have gone very differently that day.

“I would have let you do anything you pleased.” You whispered, he was so close to you, just a little further and—

“I had my suspicions, but I had to be sure.” He drew closer.

“And you didn’t think to just, ask?” Closer.

Viktor let out a breathless chuckle, you could feel it against your lips, you were so close. “A proper scientist does not simply ‘ask’. He must test, observe, confirm.”

“And your final assessment?” Your lips barely brushed his.

“Highly promising.” His lips pressed against yours and it was like an ocean wave crashed into you, one of your hands wrapped around his tie, tugging as close to you as you could get him, while the other tangled in his hair, pulling lightly to which he practically purred. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, pressing your body against his, his other ventured to your thigh, lifting it as you hiked yourself up onto the table, spreading your legs to let him stand between them, not once did you stop kissing him. You didn’t know for how long you’d fantasized about what Viktor would taste like, and now as your tongue met his you realized your fantasies could never live up to the real thing, he tasted like sweets and tea and something else that you couldn’t quite place but was so distinctly him.

The first roll of his hips against yours sent shock waves through you and you couldn’t catch the moan you released against his lips. You tried to pull him closer, you didn’t want to know where you stopped and he began, and you wanted fewer clothes to be involved and quickly. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, placing kisses down your neck and the feeling of it almost made you forget what you were doing, not completely though as you worked to undo his tie, practically ripping it from its place around his neck and tossing it you didn’t know where, you were a little too busy at the moment to pay attention. Viktor harshly sucked a bruise between your shoulder and your neck at the same time as he rocked his hips into you again. Fuck you were embarrassingly close to the edge and you wanted nothing more than for him to push you over it.

His lips were back on yours in record time, your hands trembling to undo the buttons of his waistcoat, feeling him practically rip it off of his own shoulders before tossing it into the unknown to join his tie. His hands were back on you in an instant, one venturing under your shirt, teasing the fabric of your bra while the other ventured lower, slipping under your skirt, first teasing your inner thighs before finally brushing against your clothed core. Your moan was deafening in the quiet of the room, and he was more than willing to swallow it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly his hands were off of you, his mouth parting from yours and you couldn’t help but gasp from the sudden change. “Vik—”

“Someone’s coming.” Was all he said as he pulled you from your perch on the table, straightening your skirt as you worked on trying to make him look semi presentable. Just as you’d finished the doors to the lab opened to reveal none other than Professor Heimerdinger, you swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t figure out what had been happening just moments before or what would have happened had he not arrived when he did.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Heimerdinger directed toward Viktor. “Jayce had presented me with some of your blueprints for future Hextech inventions and I wanted to go over them with you. Could you spare a moment in my office?”

Viktor cleared his throat before answering, “Of course Professor Heimerdinger, just let me gather my results from this test and I’ll be there.” Contented with this answer, the Yordle turned and made his way from the room, but not before you saw an all too knowing smile on his face. It wasn’t until the doors closed behind him that you finally allowed yourself to breathe, then laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation, moments away from the most amazing sex of your life and then cockblocked by your own boss. Viktor seemed to find the situation equally as amusing, he turned his back to the door and his hands once again found your waist, pulling you the few inches closer to him that he wanted.

“And your results for this test would be?” You asked, planting your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrumming underneath. Viktor smiled before reaching over to power off the box connected to all the belts wrapped around your body, you hadn’t even seen him turn it on. He analyzed the parchment as he removed it from the needle.

“I’d say the results were highly positive.” With that he leaned down, connecting your lips one more time, a sweet kiss that made your knees week and your lungs forget how to function. Viktor was quick with removing belts from your body, laying them out on the table behind you, he caressed your wrists where there were faint red marks from the harsh material of the straps, he pressed his lips to them before placing your arms at your side.

“If you don’t go now, Heimerdinger’s going to come looking for you again.” You said quietly, no need to be loud with Viktor so close to you. He let out a laugh before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“We’ll continue this another time.” Viktor promised as he stepped away.

“I intend to hold you to that.” You replied as you watched him make his way from the lab toward Heimerdinger’s office.

[dysfunctional-doodle]

FIC: Michelangelo Isn't Stupid

A/N: Basically a fic about Mikey and Donnie’s relationship because I am fixated on them both. I wrote it on a03 here:

Summary:

If you were to ask Donatello how he would describe his youngest brother, he would answer with “creative.” He would say very quickly after that he most certainly was not as stupid as the narrow-minded assumed he would be. He will happily argue for hours in his brother’s defence, but he realises that it doesn’t matter, not when Michelangelo believes it himself.

It’s frustrating, and it hurts, and ridiculously ironic, because before Mikey had first stepped into his lab, he had thought the same degrading thoughts about himself.

Basically, Donatello and Michelangelo bonding, because they are my favourite characters. Michelangelo had ADHD and Donatello is autistic. Also some Mikey angst because why not.

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If you were to ask Donatello how he would describe his youngest brother, the most immediate reply would be “creative.”

It’s a fairly obvious trait that the youngest has; hands stained in paint and dyes, crayons scattered in his room and smudges of charcoal on his face where he had rubbed his eyes without realising it was on his fingers. A perfectly simple assessment that Donatello has known for years: Michelangelo is very, very creative.

If you were to ask Donatello to elaborate, perhaps go into more details about the many colourful aspects of his brother, then the soft shell would harshly also state that his baby brother wasn’t stupid as the narrow minded automatically assumed he was. Mikey was creative, and sometimes such creativity makes the rest of the world seem dull and uninteresting, makes the statistics and logic (which he himself adores) confusing. Donatello, at the age of 12, first realises this when Mikey wanders into his lab looking for something to satisfy his boredom. A piece of paper had been clutched in his hand, which Donatello still had on his wall. A design for some new tech, an idea that Donatello hadn’t even thought of himself.

“A shell. But one you can remove, like a robot.”

Mikey is oddly shy as Donatello looks over his drawing mutely. The silence, for some reason Donnie doesn’t understand, makes his brother wince, becoming unsure.

“It’s not like you need it to be a better fighter - it’s just – I think it would be really cool for you, because you could totally make it have different functions and never have to worry about your soft shell being hit! But it’s okay – I knew it was stupid, Leo said I get stupid ideas sometimes –“

“No it’s not.” Donatello interrupts, his hands tracing the lines his brother had skilfully drew.

“Huh?”

“This is logical – this is –“ already Donatello’s mind is reeling from the possibilities, of the idea that he could have a shell just like his brother’s. In a burst of excitement, he dances on his feet repeatedly. “Mikey – this isn’t stupid! This is great!”

Michelangelo wasn’t stupid. His mind is scattered, but not empty. Creativity makes it hard for him to do well academically, but Donnie understands, at the age of 12 and a half, that this does not correlate to having a low IQ. At 12 and a half, he pays more attention to his youngest brother, inviting him to his small lab more often.

Michelangelo isn’t stupid, not with the way his mind quickly thinks of a solution to physical problems. A little impulsive sometimes, and Donnie’s logical brain can’t understand the sudden conclusions – but that’s fine, because he learns that just because he doesn’t quite understand it, he treasures the ability Mikey has.

Michelangelo isn’t stupid. He gives Donatello idea after idea of what he could do for his tech, all of which are lined with logic and ingenuity that makes Donnie excited and pin it to the growing collection on his wall. Mikey sometimes helps – he can’t remember the scientific terms of the chemicals, or the compounds needed for the process to work, or the reasons behind why some things are correct and some things aren’t. Yes, Mikey doesn’t understand logic as well as a typical human being (crossed with a turtle), but Donnie is proud every time his brother easily helps him construct the objects with his hands, the thought that goes into each design, the ease he can follow instructions of something he is truly passionate about.

Donnie reads about kinetic learners the first time he notices this. He reads for hours on end until he finally understands.

So maybe, when Leo lets out a jibe that goes a bit too far, or Raph gets irritated at Mikey not paying attention again, Donnie leaps to his defense. The strong emotion that accompanies his arguments is almost foreign to him, but he can barely focus as he tells them that no, Michelangelo isn’t stupid. He’s not. He’s just different, in the same way Donnie is.

“I think we are neurodivergent.” Donnie says one day as Mikey is drawing in his lab, legs tucked into his shell as he focuses. At Donnie’s words, he lets out a small “hm?”, eyes eventually focusing on him instead of the paper. Donatello himself doesn’t look up from his project, relaxing to the rhythmic process of wielding wires to the motherboard.

“Neurodivergent?” Mikey says slowly, tripping over the words as his tongue gets used to the foreign phrase. Donnie nods.

“We aren’t like others.” Donnie says. He had figured this out about himself before, knowing that he didn’t act or behave in a way people understood. Not like Leo or Raph.

“Not like them?” Mikey asks slowly. Donnie flicks his eyes over to his brother, who’s expression is unreadable. Then, his eyes widen and light up, a smile inching at his lips. Happy, Donnie concludes after the assessment of his face, a little confused about the reaction.

“We’re better than them all, baby!” Mikey punches the air with a chirp, legs kicking out from under his shell. Donnie does look up this time, fully meeting the gaze of his brother.

“Better?” Donnie had never thought of it that way. It makes him smile, just a little.

Mikey grins before looking back down at his drawing, tongue clicking rhythmically in his mouth as he once again focuses in on it.

They have a routine, a tradition of sorts. Mikey comes into his lab, shows him a design, and will sometimes help him with whatever he is working on. If he isn’t helping, he watches Donnie carefully. It is strange, but Mikey fixates and focuses on Donnie’s work in a way he rarely does with anything outside of art.

Occasionally, when Donnie is overstimulated or feels the world crushing him, Mikey paints on his walls. He paints in the shades of purple Donnie only likes, somehow being able to find them without even asking. Mikey is only quiet when he works in Donnie’s lab, barely even a ghost, because he understands in a way that makes the soft shell choke on too many emotions for him to handle. It’s only natural, therefore, that Donnie aids Mikey when he is in need, inviting him to bury himself in blankets whenever he displays the what one would associate with the typical signs of being upset. Mikey had once told him he likes the quiet in the lab, as it helps him focus. Donnie remembers how his heart swelled at the sentence.

Michelangelo isn’t stupid, and Donatello isn’t weird, and perhaps they both understand this the most.

They’re better than them all, as Mikey said those years ago. Sometimes people don’t understand, but that’s fine. It always has been.

So, when Mikey is visibly upset as he stumbles into Donnie’s lab a week after the Kraang invasion, he is caught a little unaware.

(And scared, because Mikey has never looked this terrified before).

“Mikey?” He asks into the silence once the lab doors slide shut. Mikey looks up at him for a moment, and it’s only then he realises that his hands are help out in front of him, trembling violently. His brother lets out a quiet hum, and Donnie understands.

“Is there something wrong with your hands?” From a quick assessment, that seems to be the case based on Mikey’s position and posture. His conclusion is proven correct when Mikey takes a deep breath, nodding.

“Can I touch them?” The soft shell asks quietly. Mikey nods again, once, and so Donnie takes his small hands into his. They tremble and flinch sporadically, and at first the soft shell doesn’t see much wrong. He assumes that they tremble due to Mikey’s clear upset, that they shake due to the tears that make his shoulders do the same action.

But his blissful ignorance comes to an end when Mikey speaks, his voice a sorrowful tune that makes Donnie’s heart twist and pull.

“I can’t draw.”

Donnie looks down at his baby brother’s unique hands, eyes widening as he realises that no, they aren’t trembling naturally. They jerk and stutter like a faulty engine, the nerves unable to settle.

“I – I – now I’m j-just –“ Mikey whimpers, suddenly collapsing in Donnie’s arms as he wails. “I can’t do a-anything a-anymore! I’m just s-stupid!”

Physical affection is strange to Donatello. He does not crave it, his skin often flinching away from it where possible. He concluded years ago it was unnecessary and risky, so he naturally stays away from it unless dire circumstances state otherwise. However, he also understands that, though relative to him affection is unwanted, it can change drastically from person to person.

Mikey, he craves physical affection, clinging to Raph and Leo (and sometimes Donnie when he feels like it, Mikey is the only person who he feels comfortable touching on a semi-regular basis). Donnie doesn’t quite get the appeal, but it doesn’t mean he can’t spot when Mikey is in desperate need of his touch.

And so, with little hesitation, Donatello presses Mikey against his plastron, cupping his delicate, too-small arms close to him. Mikey wails.

“I’m s-s-sorry!” His brother, his usually joyful, creative, innocent brother cries as he sinks into Donnie’s embrace. “Now I can’t b-be in your l-lab, I’m useless – so stupid!”

Donnie freezes, eyes widening in disbelief.

Yes, if you were to ask Donatello how he would describe his youngest brother, he would answer with “creative.” He would say very quickly after that he most certainly was not as stupid as the narrow-minded assumed he would be. He will happily argue for hours in his brother’s defence, but he realises that it doesn’t matter, not when Michelangelo believes it himself.

It’s frustrating, and it hurts, and ridiculously ironic, because before Mikey had first stepped into his lab, he had thought the same degrading thoughts about himself.

Donatello does not, and never will, stand for such incorrect conclusions.

“Michelangelo.” Donatello says, voice hard as he pulls his brother away gently. Mikey looks up, tears spilling through his wide eyes. He’s evidently shocked by the use of his full name, which was the result Donnie had been counting on.

Words sometimes fail Donatello, just like emotion, but that’s okay. The soft shell gives his brother a small smile and nods to a seemingly bare wall, pulling a remote out with a flourish.

With a press of a button, the wall rotates, revealing what Donnie had been collecting for years under the shine of purple LED lights. The thousands of sheets of paper all flutter in synch as the movement abruptly halts, each drawing covering the entire wall.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Mikey freeze, the purple light dancing in his widened eyes as he stares up at the history of his own creation, all collected and gathered, and now greeting him once more.

“Don…” Mikey stutters. His eyes do not leave the wall, but shift as he looks at each piece of paper. “These…you kept all my drawings?” He eventually whispers.

Donnie shrugs.

“Well, yeah. Duh.” The soft shell kneels, grabbing a roll of support bandages from his shell and begins to wrap his brother’s hand as he speaks. Mikey stays silent.

“Your hands were never what made you smart enough to join me in my lab. Your hands never made me seek your company, or to shape an opinion of you. And they certainly never made me keep each and every drawing you gave me.” Donnie focuses on the repetitive motion of wrapping as he speaks. Mikey remains still, his eyes still fixed to the wall. “I kept those drawings because they were amazing. They were creative. They made me so, so proud that I would get the honour of even thinking of creating them. And it would still be the same now if your hands somehow never worked again. You want to know why? Because everything about you never came from your hands, it came from you, Mikey. You’re creative, you’re quick-thinking, your joyful in ways I could never hope to achieve, and you’re smart.”

Mikey is still staring at the wall. Donnie feels his tears drip onto his arms as he works. He continues to speak, feeling tear build up in his own eyes.

“You’re so, so smart Mikey. You always know when one of us is upset. You recite recipes from your head, you can learn extraordinary quickly just by watching someone, and you have amazing, beautiful ideas that I will always, always pin to a secret wall lined with purple LED lights, understand?” Donnie is suddenly tackled to the floor by a sobbing Mikey. His brother presses his head against his shoulder, his trembling hands wrapping around him tightly. The soft shell lets out a squeak of surprise as it happens, but returns the hug all the same.

No words are said. None are needed. Donnie presses his head close, suddenly feeling an urge of protectiveness for his brother.

“You aren’t stupid, Mikey.” He says harshly. “You never were.”

------

ahhh feedback please i crave attention

[floralseokjin]

⊶ final sleigh (m). ⊷

You took an (almost) immediate dislike to Seokjin during his first week at the office and six months later that distaste is not only still going strong, but also mutual. Working in sales, you view one another as competition, so what happens when you’re forced to organise the Christmas office party together? It’s a recipe for disaster, but one thing’s for sure, it doesn’t end the way you imagined it...

(Spoiler alert: you don’t wind up murdering him.)  

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; workplace/office au, enemies/rivals to lovers, starts off as a holiday au but drabbles further develop the story, rom-com, hoseok, namjoon, jungkook and yoongi make appearances, smut; drunk grinding, drunk kissing, workplace (oral) sex, storeroom (oral) sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, jin has a big dick (obv) words; 23,363 

continuing drabbles found here

Every year without fail you organised the office Christmas party at Jung&Co. As part of the office party committee it was of course a given. There were only two of you but as a workplace of just 12 that was ample enough. This year however, things were a little different, no matter how marginally. Joy was on maternity leave so you were now on your own this time around. Not that you minded. You could hold the fort no problem until she came back in January and you had to plan Creed, the quality assurance director’s birthday party. 

Only Hoseok, your manager didn’t see it that simple. Insisted you needed an extra set of helping hands. Who? Was your first thought. No one had ever offered to help in the past three years and why would they start now? However, you were forgetting something… or should you say, someone. A new someone who you were sure had been transferred here to make your life a total misery. It was like someone up there had it in for you, and you couldn’t think of one explanation why. You were a good person; you donated to a cat shelter every month, you paid your taxes, you were always helpful and friendly, amazing at your job… The list went on. In fact, you were the best damn sales rep at this branch, high above the rest – Well… That was until he showed up. 

“I’ll do it.” You heard Seokjin offer indifferently, as if he didn’t care a damn about the Christmas party. You knew he didn’t. 

You swung around immediately, your chair squeaking against the wooden flooring with the force. You scoffed patronisingly. “Pfft. You?” You had never heard anything so unbelievable in your whole life. 

Seokjin regarded you from where he sat in the back row. Hoseok had called a meeting this morning, needing to find a replacement for Joy as time was creeping up. it was a month until Christmas closure. The day the party was held, and he knew how much you liked to keep on top of things. You weren’t to be rushed. 

“Yes. Me.” Of course he was smirking. “Why? Got a problem?”

Beside him, Jungkook the intern, looked between you both unsurely. No doubt the rest of your co-workers were too. This had become the norm now. They stayed silent every time you and he started squabbling. The past few months had been one big whirlwind of bickering and rivalry. Seokjin was your biggest competition. He was also the thorn in your side. Ever since he’d transferred branches from his hometown six months ago life in the office hadn’t been the same for you. It didn’t help that your desks were also situated next to one another. You had to sit opposite his annoying face 8 hours a day, five days a week. It was a living hell. And now you’d be forced to spend even more time with him? Over your dead body. 

“No.” You folded your arms, still looking over at him from where you sat in the front. He wouldn’t win. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was successfully getting to you. “You want to organise the office Christmas party?”

Of course you were calling his bluff. He was 100% doing this to piss you off. You were certain. 

He chuckled. “I don’t know why it’s so unbelievable.”

You scoffed, growing frustrated. “You’re a guy!”

He raised one of his eyebrows. “Excuse me? Is that sexism I detect?” One corner of his mouth twitched. “Do I have to report you to Tim?”

Tim, the HR rep went to speak up, no doubt trying to pacify the situation, but already out of hand, you spoke over him, voice shrill. “Oh shut up, Seokjin.” Damn it, you’d bitten, hadn’t you? He was holding back his laughter. He knew what you meant. Your wording came out wrong, so you needed to correct yourself. 

“I’m just saying, you don’t seem like a guy who loves to party plan in his spare time.”

He grinned widely, as smug as ever. “Well, I’m full of surprises, baby.” 

Unimpressed you stared him down. “Do I need to report you to Tim for harassment?” 

You weren’t paying attention to Tim this time around but no doubt he looked lost. He was an older, quiet man who seemed unsure what he was doing here most of the time. Seokjin didn’t help matters. 

“For what?” He exclaimed. “Calling you baby? It’s a term of endearment.” 

“Not from you it isn’t.” 

Jungkook sniggered at that and you felt a little smug. Seokjin went to open his mouth, no doubt a clever comeback hot on his tongue, but Hoseok interrupted. 

“Guys. Stop bickering or neither of you will be planning this party.” 

You immediately spun around, facing the front. Seokjin wasn’t fucking this up for you. Although you didn’t think Hoseok would ever take that role away from you. He might have been your manager – and the CEO’s son – but you saw him as a friend. He never threw his authority around. 

You crossed your arms as his attention fell to Seokjin, silently huffing. “Jin, please tell us why you nominated yourself.” 

“Well,” he started his spiel, laying it on thick. You refused to look his way, even as everyone else in the conference room gave him their attention. “I love Christmas and I love organising things.” He made it sound so simple. Infuriating bastard. “I was always the person they counted on back home. I know how to throw a paaar-tayyyy!” 

At his holler, he and Jungkook gave one another a high five, whooping at each other like a pair of idiots. It was impossible to think that Seokjin was the same age as you, a whole five years older than Jungkook. They obviously shared the same mental age. 

“Well you’re not back home now.” You couldn’t help yourself, whipping around to tell him what was what. “I’m the one in charge here. I have the final say.” Sneering, you added, “You’d just be the help.”

Seokjin’s jaw twitched. You were irritating him now. You took great joy in that. “Hoseok said it was 50/50.” 

“More like 75/25 where you’re concerned.” 

“In my favour, yes.”

You felt your anger flare. “Hoseokkk,” you whined, turning your back to Seokjerk. “You can’t be serious letting him join the party planning committee?” 

You knew he was doing it on purpose. He had no interest in helping you – he just wanted to annoy you, to take over. 

Hoseok looked at you sympathetically. “Do you see anyone else offering to help, Y/N? Besides, it’s just for Christmas.” When you didn’t relent, he sighed. “You can’t do it all on your own.” 

You held your arms tight across your chest, pouting like a big kid. “Watch me.” 

“Impossible,” he chuckled softly. “You should be thanking Seokjin for being so helpful.” 

Men. They were all traitors. Of course Hoseok would be in Seokjin’s favour, they once worked together back at the other branch just before Hoseok became manager here. 

“Yeah, Y/N,” Seokjin called. You just knew he had that shit eating grin spread across his face, the one that plagued your nightmares – You could hear it in his tone. “You should be thanking me. But take your time, I know admitting defeat is hard for you.” 

You breathed deeply through your nose, reminding yourself to stay calm, else he’d end up throttled by the time this party rolled around… 

“Chop, chop!” 

From your peripheral you could see Seokjin stood over you, clapping his hands, his crotch obscenely eye level. You pursed your mouth and continued typing up your report that needed to be in by today. You couldn’t bear to look at him, still mad from yesterday, and no doubt he just wanted to annoy you some more – his sole purpose it seemed. What a sad little life he lived. 

“Y/N,” he prompted. You bit the inside of your cheek, exhaling through your nose. He wasn’t relenting, but lucky for you, lunch was in just over an hour. You could grin and bear him until then, surely? 

“What?” You snapped, beginning to turn your head. 

“We have our first meeting in five.” 

You mouth grew dry as you made eye contact, but it wasn’t because of what he said, actually you barely had time to register it, his pearly whites pretty much dazzling you as he grinned. 

You might have forgotten to mention a tiny detail about Seokjin, one you tried your best to forget, and tiny it was because it barely had an effect on you… Begrudgingly, you had to admit he was objectively handsome. Before you had taken that almost instantaneous dislike to him six months ago, you will confess that the first sighting of him had turned you a little weak at the knees. You were only human after all and you could appreciate a good looking face when you saw one. He even made Beryl and Michelle, who well into their sixties, giddy with a simple Good Morning – and he knew it. He knew how hot he was, which for you, just added to his overall lack of appeal. 

However, sometimes he caught you off guard. 

Like now. 

You swallowed with some difficulty, willing saliva to coat the inside of your mouth, and ignoring the way the crisp white dress shirt hugged his waist, tucked into those very well fitting black pants of his (maybe too well fitting…), you let his words piece together. 

“…Meeting?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, what was he talking about? Hoseok hadn’t announced anything this morning. Was he just messing with you? You weren’t Jungkook. Those two might love playing pranks on one another, but you were actually mature in the workplace.

At the thought of Jungkook, you could hear him giggling up at the front of the office with the receptionist, Mina. How Hoseok hadn’t gathered they were sleeping together yet was beyond you. Actually, you were sure the rest of the office were slow to catch on too, but you maybe you had a clear (dis)advantage. You had to hear him and Seokjin discussing it more or less every single day – because men were dense and didn’t realise that no matter how low they spoke, a metre distance would not stop you from overhearing. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about the Christmas party already?” Seokjin continued to grin – and that’s when you realised it wasn’t of the friendly kind. It was of the provoking kind, because he wanted to piss you off. “I thought this was your area of expertise.” 

You could feel your blood beginning to boil, your work forgotten on the screen. “You called a meeting without telling me?” 

He shrugged. “What am I doing right now?” What, mere seconds before it started? You really were going to end up killing him one of these days. “I booked the conference room this morning.” 

You grit your teeth together. “I organise the meetings.” 

“Get a life.” He scoffed, judging you hard. “Besides, you’re a bit slow on the ball, aren’t you?” 

“The party isn’t for another month.” 

“Three weeks and 6 days actually,” he corrected. Then with a wink, he added, “I like being on top of things.” 

You ignored his shitty (and inappropriate) innuendo with a roll of your eyes. “I was going to wait until Monday.” How dare he suggest you were unorganised. 

With another lazy roll of his shoulders, he started to walk off, towards the small conference room situated in the office. “You snooze you lose.” Turning back casually, he pointed a finger to your desk. “Bring a notebook.” 

Trying to laser through him with your best death glare you grabbed your notebook and stood up. He was treading on thin ice. 

.

.

“This thing sounds dry as the Sahara,” Seokjin wailed loudly, hanging his head towards his (blank) notebook on the desk. 

“Well you know where the door is,” you smiled. “I’m perfectly capable of organising this party on my own.” 

Actually, if he didn’t like how you celebrated Christmas here, he could leave entirely. You wouldn’t miss him, and the others would surely get over it. You didn’t understand why they thought he was so amazing anyway. His sense of humour was grating to say the least – as well as his overall personality. He was nothing but a glorified salesman who walked the walk and talked the talk. You actually cared about your clients. All he cared about was numbers to help him boast, even if that meant stealing –

Never mind. That was in the past. You were the bigger person, you reminded yourself. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Seokjin scoffed, turning to look at you. He’d insisted you sat next to him even though you had been quite happy to sit at the furthest end of the table. “This place needs some Seokjin zest. Add a little flavour – a little spice.” 

You dropped your head, muttering arrogant bastard under your breath as you picked up your pen to start brainstorming some ideas. 

“What was that?” He asked, obviously hearing you. 

You played dumb. “What was what?”

Thankfully, for the next ten minutes a very much welcomed silence fell over you as you both jotted down some ideas, although you were pretty sure Seokjin was just doodling at this point. Probably stickmen like the five year old he was. In between planning you threw a few texts your best friend’s way. 

(12:14pm) You: Remind me why we tolerate men again?  (12:15pm) Ana: For their dicks  (12:15pm) Ana: But only if they’re pretty and they know how to use it  (12:15pm) Ana: What’s up? (12:17pm) You: Guess who organised the first Christmas party meeting without telling me first 🙂 (12:18pm) Ana: Oh (12:19pm) You: Exactly  (12:19pm) Ana: Dick cheese   (12:20pm) Ana: Definitely not tolerable

You snorted at the mention of Seokjin’s nickname. Ana knew all about your very vocal disdain for the guy – in fact, she’d had to hear it all over again last night when you’d called her to complain about the very unfortunate turn in Christmas party planning events. 

“Is that work or party related?”

Frustratingly, your obvious amusement had caught Dick cheese’s attention. “Shut up,” you muttered, but you did hide your phone from view, placing it screen down on the table. Hopefully he hadn’t caught a glimpse at anything dick and cheese related. He was definitely the type to report you to Tim for workplace bullying. 

You turned to look at him, childishly taking great pleasure in the way a piece of his brown hair had bunched up on top of his head – probably from where’d he’d been itching, racking his pea-sized brain for ideas. He hadn’t noticed, and you weren’t going to point it out. He’d realise soon enough when he had to use the restroom – unless he didn’t wash his hands afterwards, which wouldn’t surprise you. 

“We’re in a meeting, save texting your boyfriend for lunch.” 

“I’m not texting – never mind.” You stopped yourself. There was no point biting. He wanted you to do that, knowing the insinuating tone he’d used would surely get you mad. As if you’d ever have a boyfriend, ha ha, very funny and original – NOT. He needed better jokes. 

“If you were actually bringing something to the table I wouldn’t be bored enough to get distracted,” you shot instead. 

He looked wholeheartedly offended. “I’m not the only one involved in this. You think of some ideas.” 

“I have been.” You replied loudly. “It’s the same process every year, okay? Theme, food and Secret Santa. That’s all we need to organise.” You’d already been through this. 

“So fucking boring,” he groaned slowly. 

“You’re wrong.” 

He snorted, visibly amused by your insistence. “And that Y/N, is why you are a square.” 

“You don’t even know me!” You exclaimed. 

“I know enough. I’ve sat opposite you for the past six months.” 

“Yeah, and don’t I know it,” you muttered. You had not known peace since. 

He laughed then, surprising you enough to make you jump a little. “Babe, are you ever going to forgive me for Rosal & Steinar?”

You glared at him. How dare he bring that up. It was a very sensitive topic, one you wanted to forget about because each time it popped up inside your brain you wanted to kick him – aggressively and relentlessly. 

Seokjin’s first week here had not been good for you. First, he had made you weak at the knees by just casually existing, then, Hoseok had introduced him as Jung&Co.’s best salesperson, and lastly, after being struck down with a terrible cold, you’d been sent home from work on the morning of your biggest client’s renewal day. Hoseok had insisted that you couldn’t sell stationary without a voice. You had claimed you could, but it wasn’t good enough. You were sick and needed to go before you infected anyone else. 

The following Monday, still snorting sinus spray like it was cocaine, you’d arrived at work to find out that Rosal & Steinar had renewed their contract… with Seokjin. Life couldn’t have been going anymore wrong. In the past month you’d had to deal with the guilt of breaking off a two year relationship, acquiring a new competition in your place of work that had ultimately already lost you your best client, and you’d gotten sick for the first time in four years. 

You blamed Seokjin. He’d been sent to curse you. (Although, admittedly the breakup had happened before you’d known of his existence… Not that it mattered.) 

That’s why it was now your life’s goal to become Jung&Co.’s best salesperson, because Hoseok’s opinion didn’t mean shit, and one way or another you were going to take down Seokjin. 

So yeah, no matter how much you insisted that the past was in the past, it obviously wasn’t. 

You raised an eyebrow, choosing to ignore his question. “What did I say about reporting you?” You weren’t his babe. Or baby. Or whatever else he liked to use. 

“Sorry,” he apologised, rather genuinely at that, which was surprising. “It was a slip of the tongue.”

You let out a short sigh. “Let’s just get on with this. There’s half an hour until lunch and I need to leave on time to meet my friend.” Neither of you had thought of anything solid yet. 

“Is that who you were messaging?” 

Seokjin seemed curious – interested? You couldn’t think of the correct word. Either way he was getting too friendly and pushing boundaries you’d rather not have him cross. “Is that any of your business?”

He shrugged, unaffected, and got back down to business. “Why can’t we just rent out a venue? Nothing is fun without any booze.” 

“We don’t do that anymore,” you answered. 

“How come?” 

You inwardly groaned. You didn’t really want to get into it, this meeting had already been a complete and utter flop, but you guessed if you told him why you no longer celebrated outside of office hours he’d understand and shut up about the damn office party. 

“It was a while ago. Before Hoseok was manager.” You began. “We used to all have Christmas lunch and then go out for drinks… and it was fun, don’t get me wrong,” you emphasised, knowing that he was just itching to call you boring. “But the last time we did it, our manager at the time ended up sleeping with the married receptionist and –”

“Mina?!” Seokjin exclaimed, interrupting story time. 

“No, not Mina,” you cried. As if Jungkook would be oblivious to the fact she was married, but then again, he was pretty dumb. He’d been here eight months already and still didn’t know how to photocopy properly. 

“Before her.” You stressed, noticing the shock on Seokjin’s face disappear. “They were both wasted but it was still no excuse. Her husband found out, charged into the office Monday morning.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Seokjin chuckled, obviously enjoying the drama. 

“He was ready to fight but it didn’t end well, because… our manager was a black belt.” 

You winced at the memory, remembering that morning very well. The initial shock, the screams, your manager morphing into the Hulk… the punches… the blood… It was crazy to say the least, and after Christmas you never saw the man again. Devin, the CFO, informed you he’d “moved on” by his own willing but you didn’t really believe that. Hoseok was his replacement. Mina was hired shortly after when Kevin couldn’t handle the stress of being an accountant and a receptionist on the side. 

“Brilliant,” Seokjin laughed, clapping his hands together. “So, the guy who’d gotten cheated on had the shit kicked out of him in front of the whole office?”

“Pretty much,” you nodded, still feeling a little sad for the man even though it was three years ago now – and you didn’t even know his name. “Ever since then it’s been a buffet in the conference room kind of thing.” 

Looking over at Seokjin then, you suddenly had the urge to add, “It’s safer. No one ends up fucking that way.” 

His eyes bulged and he broke into a little cough at the shock of the word falling from your mouth so easily, choking on his own laugh. “Fuck…” He went to repeat, only petering off last minute, shaking his head in disbelief.

You tried not to feel smug about it but you couldn’t help it. Lame, yes you were. 

“Fine,” Seokjin sighed, resignation in his tone. “Stupid fricking office party it is.” 

“I’m glad that we finally agree on something.” 

He just rolled his eyes at you. 

The next couple of weeks went by quite fast and slowly, in between work, you and Seokjin actually got somewhere with the party planning – surprisingly. At first he’d been adamant to separate each job between you, but that was only because he wanted to be in charge of the theme. You’d point-blank refused. As much as you hated it, you needed to work together as a team, so that meant making decisions together. Star Wars at Christmas wasn’t exactly something you agreed on, but neither was Christmas cats. (“You need to get laid ASAP”, had been his words when you’d suggested such an idea… but he didn’t really have a leg to stand on as a Star Wars fan, so…). 

Finally, after just over a week of brainstorming (and bickering), you decided on something: Family Christmas. It wasn’t the most original idea, but it was something, and you’d already thought of a bunch of things to do ready for it, which involved Jungkook getting his camera out and everyone dressing up in their holiday pyjamas. 

It was a Monday afternoon right now, an hour until you went home for the day, and you and he were making use of some spare time you had – making a list of all the decorations you needed to purchase. He’d dragged his chair over to your desk which you weren’t very happy about but what could you do? Sometimes sacrifices had to be made, especially when it came down to Christmas. 

“It was my birthday over the weekend,” Seokjin told you casually. 

“Oh, was it?” 

You could feel his gaze on your face as you scribbled down in your notebook. “Didn’t you see on Facebook? Everyone was wishing me happy birthday.” 

“Were they?” You said impassively, now aware he was itching for some attention. “I don’t go on there that much.” Why you’d accepted his friend request still baffled you, but you were always the bigger, better person in life. Plus, you’d stopped logging in months ago. 

There was a pause. Ahh, lovely, silence. What bliss –

“I mentioned it Friday too.” 

You sighed, turning to look at him. “Happy belated birthday, Seokjin. I hope you had a good day.” 

He grinned. There it was, what he’d been after. He was such a kid. “Thanks. I did actually, I went –”

“Is Hoseok around?” 

Your attention was stolen by the sound of someone’s voice – Namjoon’s voice, and you looked to the reception desk to see him stood beside it. You swooned a little at the sight of him; legs long enough to climb, a butt hard enough to crack walnuts with – chest too. Namjoon was the foreman of the warehouse on the ground floor. He was handsome, charming, and genuinely a nice person. You hadn’t seen him for a while, so you were definitely caught by surprise.  

“Yeah, he’s in his office,” Mina replied with a smile, watching his ass as he turned and started walking away. You didn’t blame her. 

“Hi, Y/N.” He gave you a dazzling smile as he noticed you, bypassing your boss’ office to make his way over. 

“Hi, Joon.” You greeted, unable to stop smiling like an idiot. “How are you?”

“Busy, he shrugged. Leaning in, you felt your pulse begin to quicken. “You don’t go clubbing anymore? I haven’t seen you around.” 

“Ana got pretty bored of it.” 

That was a lie actually. One you’d thought of on the spot. It wasn’t that you disliked going out, although you did feel too old for it now – the hangovers just kept getting worse – but when you’d started meeting up with Namjoon and his friends in the summer you’d been on a little Quest for Fun. You blamed it on the breakup. Now that you were over it, and had been for quite some time, clubbing wasn’t near as appealing as it used to be. You much preferred staying in and sitting in front of the television. 

“That shouldn’t stop you. I can always be your company if you’re lonely,” he smirked, that pesky dimple sending your heart a flutter. He always did this. Flirting came so natural to him, he was great at it. 

You heard someone clearing their throat to the side of you. Namjoon and you both looked over at the same time. Oh, right… Seokjin was here. You’d actually forgotten about him. 

“Hey, man,” Namjoon smiled politely. They didn’t know each other too well, but that didn’t stop Namjoon from being friendly. He looked down at your notebook. “What are you guys up to?” 

The question was definitely directed to you but Seokjin answered anyway. “Organising the office Christmas party.” 

“Ahhh.” Namjoon nodded, smirking your way, Seokjin once again forgotten. “Do I get an invite?” 

You smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you always?” He and the guys downstairs always popped up and joined in on the celebrations, but yes, okay, maybe you were flirting too… You couldn’t help it, not after what happened last –

“Namjoon?”

Hoseok’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you looked over Namjoon’s shoulder, seeing him stood in his doorway. 

Namjoon sighed, taking a step backwards. “I gotta go, business calls, beautiful. See you around.” Turning his back to you he started to walk off, only to glance over his shoulder last minute, shooting you a wink. “Remember, if you’re ever feeling lonely…” 

You giggled, giving him a wave and watched him follow Hoseok into his office. 

“What was that?” Seokjin asked, sounding absolutely baffled. 

“What was what?” You shot, now realising you’d turned to mush right in front of him. 

“That,” he exclaimed. “You and Namjoon all over one another.” He paused to pull a face. “I’ve come all over all queasy.”

“Shut up,” you brushed off. “We weren’t.” 

He looked at you as if you’d gone mad. “The looks! The winking. The way your voice went all high-pitched… Do you like him?”

“As a friend,” you stressed. Although, what was it to him?! 

He stared at you. “So nothing’s going on between the two of you?”

“No.” 

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything,” you shook your head, laughing in confusion. “I don’t care if you believe me or not.” 

Seokjin dropped it thankfully and you got back to your list, jotting down a few more things you needed. It was until Namjoon reappeared from Hoseok’s office and waved goodbye to you that Seokjin couldn’t contain himself any longer. 

“What?” You demanded when you heard him scoff to himself. 

“He definitely wants to fuck you.” He shook his head. “Trust me. I have a males sixth sense when it comes to that.” 

You could feel yourself growing mad. That’s why you ultimately ended up spilling. As stupid as it was. “Maybe he already has…”

It took a moment for Seokjin to make sense of your words. “W-what?” You could physically see when the penny dropped, it was actually quite amusing. You liked making him speechless. “You and Namjoon already… When?!”

You shrugged, feeling mildly embarrassed. “It was during the summer.” You tried to think of more things you’d need for this party but your mind was now a blur and Seokjin wouldn’t let you anyway.  

“You can’t just drop that and not give me details,” he cried. 

“Keep your voice down,” you hissed. Nobody knew bar Ana. Who had been the with you the night you and Namjoon had hooked up. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but you didn’t want the whole office knowing your business. 

Seokjin looked at you wide-eyed, patiently – or not so – waiting for you to explain yourself. You grumbled, not quite believing you were about to tell him, you didn’t want him knowing your business, but then again, it was a great feeling knowing that you’d shocked him. “I’d just… I’d just broken up with my boyfriend and I wanted to… let loose a little. It was just a one time thing.” 

But it had been good – amazing, actually. A repeat had never shown itself, but you were happy enough for it to be a onetime thing. 

“You have one night stands?” Seokjin asked, although you were sure it was rhetorical. 

“It happened once.” 

He wasn’t listening. “And here I was thinking you were a prude.” 

“Like I said before, you don’t know me.” 

Seokjin chuckled, amused by your attitude. It sent your insides a little jittery – but only for a split second – and it could’ve very well been annoyance. “So… How was it?”

“Excuse me?”

“How was the sex?”

“I’m not answering that,” you refused. 

“Why not?” He looked puzzled. “What’s a bit of hook up talk amongst friends?”

“Friends?” You repeated with a chortle. “Good one.” 

He ignored you. “Come on. I’ll tell you about the sex I had over the weekend. Birthday sex is always the best. One hook up story for another.” 

You pulled a face, unsure why the idea of Seokjin getting in on was so unpleasant, but then he laughed. It was loud, and partly squeaky. Contagious too. You couldn’t help but join in. “Go away.” You whined, pushing at his shoulder. You were not going into detail, palming him off. “I can’t even remember it.”

“Ouch.” Seokjin sniggered. “Don’t tell him that. It seems like he thinks about it every goddamn night.”

Pfftt. You doubted that. “I mean, it was ages ago.” 

“That shouldn’t matter, babe,” Seokjin tutted. “You never forget a good time.” 

“Are you purposely trying to be an asshole?” If he called you babe one more time, you swore to God…

“I’m not trying.” He smirked, face falling as he realised that hadn’t been worded correctly. “…Wait.” 

Okay then, he was just a natural asshole. Good to know. 

Begrudgingly, you had to admit you and Seokjin made a pretty good team once you put aside your issues with one another. With the theme decided, it was easy enough to get everything in place. Jungkook took the “family” photos you needed of the staff and you went to get them professionally printed, shoving them in frames ready to place around the office in preparation. Seokjin found a lot of the decorations needed, which was actually very helpful of him. You were so impressed you even agreed to let him decorate the conference room all by himself when the time came. The office was already overflowing with tinsel, the Christmas tree up, but the conference room was always left for the day of the party, the last Friday before the company closed for Christmas. 

Secret Santa had been organised too. Quite unfortunately you’d pulled out Seokjin’s name (see, you were cursed,) but you’d bought the first pair of cufflinks you’d found in the department store last week, so you didn’t have to worry about that for long. All that was left now was the buffet. And that’s how you found yourself sat in Seokjin’s kitchen on a Friday night, a week to go until D-Day… 

There hadn’t been time to look over the restaurant’s menu in work hours, and you’d given up trying to organise things over Skype with him. The first and last time you’d tried that, Seokjin had added Jungkook into the call, both of them getting ready to game. It had been a mess to say the least, so the only other option was to meet up after work. Seokjin had been the first to invite you over, so here you were. It wasn’t as if you purposely didn’t want him to step foot inside your home. He wasn’t that bad. 

His apartment wasn’t either… He lived with his best friend, an interior architect, which made a lot of sense once Seokjin told you. Unless you were confusing it for an interior designer, which you probably were – either way, this place was cool. And spotless. It smelt nice too. Always a plus. 

You were halfway done picking through the menu when his phone started ringing. You noticed him hesitate, as if he wondering if he should pick up but ultimately decided to after a few rings. 

“Hey mom,” he greeted, glancing over at you to mouth sorry. 

You shook your head to tell him it was okay and pulled out your phone from your hoody pocket, taking the break to scroll through social media. A text pinged through from Ana, wondering what dress she should wear tomorrow night when you went out for drinks. Every year you went out just before Christmas, despite how much you complained. It was mandatory now, but undeniably Ana took it a lot more serious than you. You had no idea what you’d be wearing tomorrow and wouldn’t until an hour before the Uber came to get you. 

“I know that, but I just can’t leave him,” Seokjin sighed beside you. You paused, having never heard him sound quite like that before. He sounded… serious for one. And frustrated. You replied to Ana quickly, trying your best not to overhear anymore – which was difficult. You were practically brushing shoulders at the kitchen table. 

“I don’t think he wants to come. He said he doesn’t even want to celebrate this year.” 

Again, you were doing a terrible job at this. Whatever this was about, you were beginning to feel rude listening in. But then again, if Seokjin didn’t want you to hear then surely he would’ve stepped into the living room. You were being a goddamn worrier. 

“Okay, I’ll speak to you soon, bye. Love you.”

Love you? Seokjin told his mom he loved her? The revelation caught you off guard, forgetting that he was off the phone now and as you heard him clear his throat, shoving the device into his sweatpants pocket, you jumped, copying and slipping yours back inside your hoody. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologised. “It was my mom.” 

“It’s fine.” You reassured. He sounded a little dejected all of a sudden, a far cry from ten minutes ago when he’d been laughing over the word vol-au-vent. You hesitated, wondering if you should ask if everything was okay? You felt a little awkward, as if you were pushing boundaries, but surprisingly he told you himself without any prompting. 

“She really wants me to come home for Christmas but I can’t leave Yoongi.” He definitely sounded exasperated now. 

“Yoongi?” You repeated, a little lost. 

Seokjin glanced at you, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to guess if you were messing around or not. “My best friend…” He said slowly. “Y’know, the one I live with…” 

“Oh.” 

You fool. Now it looked like you hadn’t been listening to him. You had been, you really had, the name just slipped your mind momentarily. After only an hour… “Sorry,” you murmured. 

He shrugged, carrying on. “I kinda owe him one.” 

“How come?” The menu now laid forgotten. 

Seokjin sighed. “It’s kind of a long story.” You waited to see if he’d care to explain, although of course he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. “His girlfriend broke up with him about a month ago and he’s been pretty cut up ever since.” 

He wanted to. You listened politely, aware this was the first time either of you’d had a conversation very much deemed as serious.   

“I’m going to stay here with him because well,” he hesitated, glancing at you briefly. He seemed a little embarrassed but decided to continue. “He let me move in with him after my ex and I split up. He was there for me so it’s only fair that I’m there for him.” He finished with a rushed smile, reaching to rub the back of his neck bashfully.

The action was pretty endearing. 

“Is that why you transferred?” You asked, aware the conversation was straying but you couldn’t help it. The surprise of finding out he’d moved here after the breakdown of his relationship was distracting to say the least. You’d always pegged Seokjin as a guy who’d never been in a serious relationship – judgemental, yes, but they were the type of vibes he gave out. Maybe you just couldn’t imagine him settled down and in love. He was such a free spirit, never serious enough – although, right now he was... 

Possibly, you didn’t know him at all…

Seokjin nodded. “Yeah, I wanted a fresh start. Yoongi said this city was nice, so.” 

There was a beat of silence and afraid it would become awkward you rushed to say something of worth. “Break ups are tough.” 

God, that sounded a lot cheesier than you intended. 

“They are,” he agreed. “Although... I don’t know how yours went – mine was okay, sad but mutual. We just didn’t love each other anymore. Yoongi’s on the other had… He got cheated on.” 

“That sucks.” You empathised, before shrugging softly. “Mine was okay too. As break ups go.” 

Were you bonding? Bonding with Seokjin? Ludicrous. However, what was even more unbelievable was how normal and comfortable it felt… 

“How are you spending Christmas this year?” He asked, continuing to make conversation. 

“Well, I usually visit my parents too but they’re going to be abroad this year so I’ll just spend it with my friend Ana’s family.” It was all planned, they lived super close by so at least this year would be easy. 

He sniggered, eyes twinkling as opened his mouth to tease you. “Ditched by your own parents, embarrassing.” 

“Hey,” you exclaimed, whacking his arm just before you burst into laughter. 

He laughed along for a moment before growing semi-serious again. But just for a moment. “It’s actually going to be my first Christmas away from my family. It feels kind of weird but I can’t bring Yoongi along, he’ll bum out the atmosphere.”

You scoffed, voice filled with sarcasm. “You’re such a great friend, Seokjin.” 

He chuckled, opening his mouth to reply, but just as he did you both heard the door in the entry way opening, footsteps sounding. You guessed Yoongi was back home. Not long after, a black haired man came into view and Seokjin moved, cool air filling the gap. You realised just how close you’d been sat together. When had that happened? 

“Hey Yoongi,” Seokjin smiled. Yoongi raised a hand. “This is Y/N, my co-worker. You’ve heard me talk about her before, right?” 

Huh? Whining about you, no doubt… 

“Oh... yeah.” Yoongi’s eyes travelled to yours, a small smile upturning one corner of his mouth. “Hey, how’s it going?” 

“Hey,” you returned his smile. “Nice to meet you.” 

“How was work?” Seokjin asked. He sounded… concerned? That was sweet. 

Yoongi shrugged. “Fine. Had an appointment with a client.” Silence. He was a man of very few words. You liked it. “I’m going to my room, have fun planning that Christmas party.” 

Of course. That’s why Yoongi knew about you, Seokjin had told him about the party planning… 

You waved him bye, and then, once you’d heard him make his way upstairs, Seokjin turned to you. “See? Bums out the atmosphere.” 

“What atmosphere?” You joked. “No, but he seemed okay, considering…” Yes, his shoulders were a little slumped, as if he was carrying the whole world on them, but who knows, that could’ve been a thing before the breakup… He had sort of smiled at you… 

“Yeah…” Seokjin agreed, before pausing and raising an eyebrow. “Maybe he liked what he saw. You could always do me a solid and try to cheer him up for me.” 

You puzzled, unsure what he was getting at. 

“You know, like Namjoon did for you…” 

“SEOKJIN,” you yelled, jaw dropping in shock. “What the hell is wrong with you?” It wasn’t funny. 

He squeaked a laugh. “I’m just messing around, don’t worry. I don’t want you to sleep with Yoongi. That would just be weird. Besides,” he added as an afterthought, smirking mischievously. “You’re too boring.” 

He was trying to tease you again, wanting you to bite. Well, it wasn’t going to happen. 

“I wouldn’t touch any of your friends,” you shot instead. “They’re tainted by default.” 

Seokjin chuckled softly, shaking his head from side to side as he began to study the menu again. 

“You ladies have a couple of admirers,” the waiter grinned as he placed two white wine spritzers on your table. 

Ana squealed, taking one of the glasses immediately. “Where?” 

You’d only been out barely an hour, already in your second bar, but even you had to admit the thought of someone buying you a drink was a little exciting. You followed the waiter’s hand to a booth across the floor, anticipation pumping through your veins only to be thoroughly disappointed when you recognised one of the faces – well, both faces actually, but you’d only been acquainted with the second yesterday…

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned. 

“What?” Ana asked mildly confused, waving off the waiter with a thanks. “What’s wrong? They are so hot!”

“That’s dick cheese and his friend!”

“Wha–The guy you work with?” Your best friend sounded flabbergasted. “Which one is dick cheese? Although I wouldn’t kick either out of bed…” 

“Ana!” You hissed, taking another glance at the booth. Seokjin waved at you wildly, an obnoxious grin on his face. You grumbled. “He’s the one on the left.” 

“Oh, fuck.” She waved back, much to your annoyance. “No wonder he gets you so angry.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You were confused. Enough to not realise when she stood up, making a beeline for their booth. “Wait��Ana! Where are you going?!”

She didn’t bother to look back as she replied. “I’m going to say thanks, duh.” 

.

.

And that’s how you found yourself well on the way to Drunksville. You were only supposed to get tipsy tonight, knowing you’d pay for anything more in the morning, but well, you’d moved onto a club down the road and the drinks kept coming, and as much as you hated to admit it, hanging out with Seokjin and Yoongi was actually pretty enjoyable. Although, no matter how much fun you were having, it wasn’t enough to stay on the dancefloor for too long. 

“Hey,” you greeted Yoongi, slipping inside and around the booth to slump down next to him. Dancing couldn’t have been his cup of tea either because he’d given up way before you had. Seokjin and Ana were still going strong out there. 

You downed what was left of your drink, willing yourself to cool down as you huffed and puffed. God, you were drunk. 

“Are you okay?” He chuckled. 

You smiled. You liked Yoongi. He was nice, quiet – you liked quiet. “So, tell me,” you wondered, eager to understand something.  “How’s a guy like you friends with Seokjin?”

Yoongi’s forehead creased. “What do you mean?” 

Shrugging, you bit back a hiccup. “You seem normal, he’s…” What was Seokjin again? You could usually come up with a million and one (not so nice) words to describe him but the room was slightly spinning and your brain came up blank. 

Yoongi understood you anyway, laughing as he replied.   “He can just seem that way at first, it’s the nerves. They make him act up.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Nerves?” What did that mean? You could never imagine a nervous Seokjin. He was always so sure of himself. 

Yoongi didn’t clarify. “Me and him are actually very similar. Annoying little shits when we want to be,” he laughed, before hesitating, “I’m…I’m a little injured right now, that’s why I seem a lot more subdued.”

“Oh,” you murmured, hoping you didn’t come off as condescending. “Yeah, Seokjin told me about your breakup. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.”

“You seem a lot happier tonight though,” you offered. Happier than yesterday evening.  

“It’s called alcohol,” he grinned, bringing his glass up to his lips. He paused. “Y’know, he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.” It took you a second to realise he was talking about Seokjin. “He’s a great person.”

You shrugged slightly. “He’s okay.” What did it matter what you thought anyway? Seokjin definitely didn’t care. 

“He likes to joke around, I admit, but it seems to make you laugh, so.” Yoongi smirked slightly and tilted his head, taking a took a sip of his beer. 

Taken aback, you tried to think. Had you been laughing with Seokjin all night? Maybe laughing at him was a better way to describe it… 

“What are you guys talking about?”

You jumped when you heard a familiar loud voice and looked up to see Seokjin leaning over the table, four shots balanced between the fingers of both hands – two in each. His face was flushed, redder than you’d ever seen it – he’d obviously had enough of dancing too.  

“Nothing,” Yoongi replied smoothly. He stood up, finishing his drink. “I’m uh, I’m going outside for some fresh air.” 

“But I got us shots,” Seokjin complained. 

Yoongi looked over at you and smiled before tapping Seokjin on the shoulder. “I’m sure you and Y/N will make good use of them.” 

Hm… Everyone was drunk and acting weird. Not that you had time to contemplate it because immediately Yoongi had gone and Seokjin was taking his seat next to you. His cologne hit you. It was different to usual, you’d realised instantly earlier in the night. 

“Where’s Ana?” You asked. They’d both been dancing together when you’d left them. 

He shrugged as he handed you a shot. “I don’t know, lost her on the dancefloor.”

You hesitated. Should you have more to drink? The shots might push you over the edge. But… you were having fun. It was one night out, you might as well do it properly. So quickly you downed the shot, smirking Seokjin’s way as you picked up another. “I’ll have hers then.” 

He grinned slowly before scoffing as you choked. That shit burned, and you might have been able to handle the first shot no problem but this time your eyes watered and your throat screamed. 

“Seems like you’re trying to prove a point,” he laughed.

“What do you mean?” You demanded, already feeling more lightheaded. 

He didn’t care to explain, instead doing his two shots straight after the other, able to handle them with just a wince. “What do you think of Yoongi?” He asked, barely giving the liquid time to slip down his throat. 

“Huh?”

“Do you like him?”

You shrugged, confused as to why he was asking you. “He seems nice, yeah.”

“So, you like him?”

You froze. “Are you still trying to hook us up? I don’t like him like that.” You didn’t even know him. 

“No, no,” Seokjin rushed. “I wasn’t trying to… never mind.” He shook his head, changing the subject. “So who did you get for Secret Santa?”

“I’m not telling you,” you huffed, pushing his shoulder. 

“That means it’s me.” 

“Seokjiiin,” you whined, leaning into him as you nudged him once more. 

He laughed, looking a little surprised by your sudden affection – however unintentional. “I think you’re drunk.” 

…Maybe those shots were a bad idea, you’d only get worse… 

.

.

“Should we go and look for Yoongi and Ana?” Seokjin asked, checking his watch. 

You’d been sat together for a while now, conversation coming surprisingly easy. It was nonsense mostly – you might or might not have helped Seokjin with some festive ideas to prank Jungkook with – but Ana hadn’t come back from the dancing yet, and Yoongi was still outside – unless he’d done a runner, which was highly probable according to Seokjin. So it was probably best you both went to look for your friends. 

You followed closely behind Seokjin as you searched through the club and at one point he reached for your hand, helping you through a large group of people. His grip was warm and oddly gentle, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much as he’d already let go. He waited for you as you checked the restroom, but your best friend was nowhere to be found. It was probably the alcohol in your system but you started to get a little worried, especially when your text went ignored. Seokjin seemed to notice. 

“Stay here, okay? I’m going to check outside. I don’t want you to freeze to death.” He told you, having to practically shout in your ear the music was so loud in this area. 

You found yourself a little touched by his concern, no matter how small it was and listened, clutching your purse to your middle. You were in a black mini dress after all, your arms barely covered. You still had the perfect view of him though, able to watch him step out the building and look down the road. You noticed the concern on his features slowly turn into shock, his mouth dropping open, and you frowned. What the hell had he seen?

“Seokjin!” You called, which was pretty useless. He couldn’t hear a damn thing. You could barely hear yourself. You rushed forward. “Seokjin?” You pushed your way past some people who had clogged up the entry way and dashed down the stone steps. “What is it?”

The winter air hit you instantly. It was fucking freezing. Seokjin still looked in shock, glued to the spot and you grew frustrated, stopping right beside him. “What?” You demanded. “What’s going on?!” 

You followed his line of vision, and immediately you were positive your expression matched his. A little down the road, up against the wall, Yoongi and Ana were wrapped around one another, attached at the mouth. You were speechless, the cold no longer a problem. 

“Let’s not interrupt them,” Seokjin said suddenly, taking you by the hand once again to drag you back inside. (Your feet honestly wouldn’t work.) 

The instant heat got your blood pumping again, although the music did nothing for your whirring head. “What did we just witness?” You turned to him and asked (shouted). 

Seokjin still looked just as shocked, but he managed a joke, wrinkling his nose up. “Ew, what if our friends start dating? I’ll be stuck with you forever.” 

“Grow up,” you rolled your eyes, before randomly taking in the sight of him. How wasn’t he melting to death? The guy was in a fuzzy Christmas sweater. Actually, an even more important question; how hadn’t he electrocuted himself? The reindeer on his chest lit up. If one drop of sweat got into that hidden battery pack he was done for, surely?

“I thought you’d be saving that jumper for Friday,” you commented (yelled), quite honestly in a daze. You were drunk, in absolute shock, toes frozen, and somehow you were stood with Seokjin making conversation about Christmas jumpers. 

“Who says I don’t have a whole drawer full of the festive fuckers. I did say I loved Christmas, no?” He laughed.

You joined in. “I thought you were bullshitting.” 

“Of course you did.” He said with a small smile, shaking his head a little. 

“I can’t believe we caught them kissing.” You couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “They’re probably doing more than that by now.”

“Shut up.” You whined. “Wait. Do you think he told her about the breakup?”

“What?” Seokjin asked you to repeat, leaning in slightly, unable to hear you properly above the music. 

“Do you think she knows he’s on the rebound?”

Seokjin shrugged. “Maybe. Who cares.” 

“I care!” You exclaimed causing him to wince because you’d accidentally shouted in his ear. “Ana’s my best friend!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes slightly. “I thought you of all people would know people can just fuck with no strings attached.” 

“Will you ever drop that,” you deadpanned. Your hook up with Namjoon happened so long ago now, you barely even thought about it unless you saw him at work, which was pretty rare anyway. 

“Nope.” The way the sound of the p popped off his lips annoyed you. 

“What about you?” You asked, changing the subject from you. “No getting lucky tonight? Is Christmas sex not on par with birthday sex?” 

He burst out laughing. “I’d say it is, yeah, but I still have a couple of weeks to make it happen, so ask me then.” 

His answer almost annoyed you more and you couldn’t place why. He was just being stupid, classic old Seokjin. You should be used to it by now. 

“Come on,” he winked, stepping forward, towards the middle of the club and his hand cupped your elbow. “Let’s dance!” 

“No, no, no,” you immediately refused, grabbing his hand to stop him. 

“Pleaseee,” he pleaded, eyes wide. “I want to dance with you. You’ve hardly been on the floor all night.” 

Oh. Your heart did a little flip inside your chest. Maybe it was the tequila making its way back up your body… 

“Come on,” he chuckled, not giving up. “It’ll warm you up.” On cue both of his hands lifted and he started rubbing your shoulders. “I told you not to come outside. Now we both have the mental image of Yoongi sucking face stuck behind our eyelids and you’ve got frost bite.” 

You giggled, but still wouldn’t relent. He could stay here warming you up for the rest of the night if he wanted… Dancing made you sweaty. 

He tilted his head, giving you a look. “Y/N, do you want me to call you boring again?”

And just like that you wanted to prove him wrong… You were a sucker. He knew what he was doing. 

Only, the second round of shots for some Dutch courage were probably a bad idea. Your idea, but a very bad one, nevertheless. The dancefloor seemed to be stickier than it was an hour ago – and busier. It was packed and loud, which worked to distract you from how drunk you were. 

Seokjin could move. You hadn’t realised earlier, not really paying attention as you’d danced with Ana instead, but with just the two of you left you let him embarrass the hell out of you on the floor. At first it was definitely on purpose; he pulled the largest, wackiest moves that you begged him to stop, but soon enough he had you dying of laughter, so he continued, your amusement spurring him on. And then drunk you had to join in… 

“You know what? You’re actually pretty fun once you loosen up,” Seokjin yelled above the music, his hands somehow having found their way to your hips as you both snaked them to the beat. 

“I’m always fun,” you informed him, your breath fanning across his face as you lifted your arms in the air. “You just only know work me.” 

He smiled. “Well, I don’t know, I think I’m getting to know normal you lately…” 

You snorted some type of noise. “That’s what you think!” 

He went to open his mouth to argue but you spun around, your back pressed to him as you continued to sway. Your skin was hot to the touch, too many bodies cramped in this small space, but you loved the feeling of Seokjin’s hands on your hips, even more so when they slowly inched up your waist. You flung your arms back, looping them around his neck to pull him closer. It had been a long time since you’d danced with a guy like this. Not even Namjoon. Not even your ex. 

You could feel how boiling he was too, a thin layer of sweat coating the back of his neck, and as you ran your fingers through his slightly wavy hair he let out a little groan. It was extremely quiet, would’ve gone unnoticed if his mouth wasn’t hovering by your ear, but now you’d heard it and it changed everything. Something exploded inside your chest, fresh heat prickling your skin and you found yourself pushing into him further, grinding in a small circle. 

The dancefloor was full of couples like this so no one took any notice. But Seokjin did. He froze, as if he was sure he’d imagined it, so ever so carefully you did it again. This time he knew his drunk mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and after a slight hesitation his hands slid to your hips again, gripping them tighter. He let you grind against him, but didn’t reciprocate, he just kept dancing to the music, which seemed to turn you even braver. 

With the bass of the music pumping through your body you moved back and forth against his crotch, hearing his breath get shallower and shallower. It was addictive and you were chasing the feeling before you knew it, bold and finding yourself getting more turned on by the second. It wasn’t long before you began to feel him grow hard against your ass, and even though surprised, you still carried on, loving it. 

“Y/N,” he murmured against your ear, sounding out of breath. You circled your hips again. This time he couldn’t help but push back. “It’s getting late.” His voice faltered. “You’re drunk. I’m drunk.” 

You frowned to yourself. What was he trying to say? You felt his hands leave your hips, reaching for your arms around his neck to slide them away. He was trying to get you to face him. He was still half hard in his pants but he ignored it. 

“You’re drunk,” he repeated, as if it was some sort of answer, some sort of reason. He started to twist you his way but you tripped, falling into him. “Definitely drunk,” he chuckled, tugging his hands off your waist from where he’d caught you. “It’s time to go home.” 

“I don’t want to go home,” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. You went to push your body into him but he angled away from you, creating distance. 

“You need to go home,” he laughed. It sounded awkward. “Think of that hangover tomorrow.” 

“I will,” you shrugged, “tomorrow.” 

Seokjin stared at you, his brown eyes wavering slightly. They were darker than usual, swimming with something that made your belly flip, but he steeled himself, holding strong. “Come on,” he pressed. “We can share an Uber.” 

“It’s fine.” You muttered, disappointed for some reason. You were unsure how he could hear you above the music, but he did. “I’ll find Ana.” 

He chuckled. “Ana’s definitely gone by now. Don’t you remember what we caught her doing?”

Oh. 

He was right. 

Damn your best friend. 

.

.

You didn’t remember much of the Uber ride home, the sudden departure from the club had brought deafening silence and you were now very aware of how much your head was spinning. Your bed was calling you – your warm, cosy, king sized bed… However, you took one look at Seokjin as he helped you out of the car and all that became forgotten. 

You clung to his jumper, voice still loud despite there being no music now. “Do you want to come in?” 

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He replied carefully, chuckling. “Sober you definitely doesn’t want me in your apartment.”  

You reached forward, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes and giving him what you hoped was your best smile. “Drunk me does.” 

He held your stare for a moment, searching long enough to see something that made him make up his mind. “Fine,” he sighed lightly, bending down into the car to talk to the driver. You were barely listening, looking up at the stars, but Seokjin held your hand tightly, keeping your heels rooted to the ground. 

“Keep this thing running, I’ll be back in five.”

“That’s gonna cost you, my friend.” 

“It’s fine.” Another sigh. “Just– stay? I won’t be long.” 

It took you a couple of minutes to get through your door, Seokjin had to open it in the end, and he followed you in, a respectable distance behind you. He closed the door quietly, smiling when you turned back to look at him as you kicked off your shoes. 

“Okay, you’re home safe now. I’m just going to go, see you Monday, okay?” 

“No, don’t go,” you bemoaned, closing the distance to cling to him once again. In your drunken state you couldn’t place why you wanted him to stay so bad. All you knew was that you did. 

He sighed again, lifting his hands to clasp over your wrists in an attempt to move you away. He looked and sounded torn. “Y/N, the Uber’s running. I’m going to end up paying double to get home.” 

You shrugged. “Tell him to leave then.” 

He closed his eyes and exhaled, it sounded like a whimper. “What are you doing to me?” He murmured, but you were barely paying attention, swaying where you stood. He noticed and groaned. “You’re so drunk!” 

“Am not.” 

He laughed, genuinely amused, and if your drunk mind didn’t know any better it sounded as if he was endeared by you. He shook your shoulders lightly. “Look at me.” You couldn’t quite focus. He cupped your face instead, laughing louder as he angled you to stare straight into his eyes. “Look at me. You are so out of it.”

You just grumbled, but warmth fluttered through your body. It felt good to be touched by him. You thought back to the dancefloor, the way you’d been pressed up against his body. Your mouth parted, suddenly thirsty. Really thirsty. But for what? 

“Can you even make out my face?” Seokjin asked, continuing to be amused. 

“Of course,” you snapped, fingers reaching for him. “There’s your hair,” – You ran your fingers through the dark brown locks – “your eyes... nose…” He let you poke his eyelids gently and then you bopped his nose.

“Get offf.” He snorted softly. 

And then your attention fell to his mouth. Those plump, deep pink lips that were opened and slightly wet from where he’d been swiping his tongue across them. You swallowed, hands cupping his jaw. “Your lips –” 

You dove before you knew what you were really doing, pressing your mouth to his, taking him by surprise. Not a second later he was pulling back, holding you at arm’s length. “Woah, woah.” He chuckled in surprise, but his voice wavered. “Not the time, Y/N. Trust me.” 

You frowned, annoyance spiking and you shook him off. “What? So you’ve suddenly turned chivalrous now?” Scoffing, you felt like an idiot – upset and embarrassed, you spoke without thinking. “Or do you just not want me?”

Something flashed across Seokjin’s face. He looked irritated. Sounded it too when he replied. “Of course I fucking want you.” You froze. Huh? However, you didn’t have time to think about what he’d said before he was striding towards you, backing you up against the wall.  You gripped the tops of his arms on instinct, looking up at him as he loomed over you, hair falling into his dark eyes. They were the same colour as they had been back at the club – when you’d been grinding all over him. Your breath caught. 

“Ever wondered why you frustrate me so much?” He rasped. 

Something inside you screamed. Not that you had time to realise because immediately his mouth was on yours. Each press of his lips was rushed, as if he was acting on instinct and all you could do was cling to him and try to keep up. You let out a moan when you felt his tongue attempt to push past the seam of your lips and you let him in, moaning louder when the wet muscles clashed together, the dam now broken. 

It was contagious. Seokjin grunted against you, throatier than you were expecting, noises so unlike him your whole body burned in desire. Actually, it was on fire. It started to crave him, the feeling so strong all you could do was let it take you. You yelped when his hands curled around your ass, giving you one strong push and you promptly jumped into his arms. He caught you effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around him. 

By God, he was strong. He crashed you into the wall, mouth still hungry as he ground his crotch into yours. The skirt of your dress had ridden up to your waist, your underwear the only thing protecting you as he rubbed you against his dick. Which was hard again – very hard. Maybe he’d had a semi the whole car ride home, which was a thought that got you moaning louder inside his mouth, your tongues getting messy, your teeth clashing. 

“Seok-jin,” you whimpered. Your core tingled, hot to the touch and you could feel your arousal beginning to pool against the lace of your thong. You wanted him – no, you needed him. “Pleaseee. Please.”

He grunted, your begging fucking with his head and you felt his arms give way. He stumbled forward, no other option but to ease you down to the floor, but his mouth didn’t relent; he kissed you just as needy as before, sliding down your chin to make his way to your throat. 

You gasped at the new sensation, his tongue licking strips up your skin, his teeth nipping. Your legs shook under you, nothing to do with the alcohol you’d consumed, it was all him. He was driving you wild, and you needed him to fuck you. You knew that much. 

Your hand reached between your bodies, loving the sound of Seokjin heavy breathing against your ear as he now sucked on your lobe, and you wrapped your palm around his clothed cock. He was solid. Rock hard.. It had to be painful, surely? You got to work, rubbing him back and forth in an attempt to relieve some of his discomfort. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and you jutted your hips into him too, mistaking the cursing for his enjoyment. “Y/N, wait,” he said, pulling back and stopping the movements of your hand, his long fingers circling your wrist. You tried reaching for his mouth again, still oblivious to his sudden change in demeaner.  

“Not like this,” he murmured, trying his best not to kiss you back, no matter how hard you pecked his mouth. 

“Why?” You asked, giving up. Your lips were wet and swollen. They prickled. God, you were so turned on your voice shook. His too. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing right now?” He sounded uncertain, looking you in the eyes as he chuckled bitterly. “You hate my guts. You don’t want my dick.” 

You frowned. What was he talking about? You’d been practically dry humping him. Of course you wanted his dick. “I do,” you insisted, leaning into him to tug at his belt. He didn’t give in. “Seokjin, just give me your dick.” 

He stared down at you, his hand still clutching your wrist, breathing still ragged, his eyes still black… but despite how much he obviously wanted this, he composed himself, his expression softening. You felt him reach behind you and gently pull your dress down over your ass. 

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?” He hummed softly, voice still visibly affected by you. “When you’re sober. When we’re both sober…”

.

.

You awoke suddenly, peaceful and serene for all of two seconds before you groaned, burrowing your face into your pillow. It felt as if someone was stomping on top of your head. What the hell happened last night? Wait… How had you even gotten home? Why couldn’t you remember anything?!

You blindly reached for your nightstand, praying your cell phone was there, fingers stretched as far as they would allow until you felt the familiar belonging. You grabbed it and burrowed further under the covers. You needed to call Ana. She’d fill you in – make you remember. 

Wait –

At the thought of your best friend you suddenly remembered a few things. Seokjin and Yoongi had been at the club too. They’d bought you drinks, you’d sat at their table, drunk more. Tequila must have been involved for you to be this clueless. Enough of it and you could forget your own name come morning. You’d always been the same since college. Squinting at the brightness of the screen, your head throbbing even harder if that was possible, you started to call Ana. It rang and rang… Frustrated you gave up. She could sleep through the end of the world so why were you surprised. You hoped she woke up with the world’s largest and longest hangover, serves her right for not – Oh. OH. 

You shot up, in immediate regret when the entirety of your head spasmed. Groaning you tried to fight through the pain, wishing you had some calm so you could actually piece together your memories. Ana and Yoongi. Outside. All over one another. Making out against the wall. 

What. The. Fuck. 

No wonder why she wasn’t picking up. 

The memories were hazy, but it was something. You continued to wrack your brain… You and Seokjin had found them, but they hadn’t been aware and then you’d gone back inside. He asked you to dance and that’s when you’d suggested more shot… Shots. Tequila shots. You were an idiot. Try as you might you couldn’t remember anything after that. It was all one big blur. How had you gotten from the club to your apartment? 

You moved to sit on the side of your bed, soles of your feet pressing into the carpet. Your stomach churned a little. No, you couldn’t be sick. You hated being sick. Rubbing your stomach in an attempt to soothe it you looked down and realised you were still wearing your dress. Gross. You’d gotten into bed with your clothes on? You groaned weakly. You better have washed your hands before knocking out… although, you highly doubted it. 

Looking at your phone again, you knew there was only one thing you could do. If you wanted answers you needed to ask the right person… 

(10:34am) You: How the hell did I get home last night?

No more than a minute later three dots appeared on the screen, signalling Seokjin’s reply. But he was taking his time with it. Jesus. They kept disappearing for a few moments just to pop up again. Why was it such a hard question?! 

(10:37am) Seokjin: You can’t remember? 

Really? Three minutes to type three words? 

(10:37am) You: Obviously not I wouldn’t be asking you otherwise  (10:38am) You: We saw Ana and Yoongi kissing... We had shots... We danced

You talked him through what you did recall, and once again, he played that irritating game with those three dots. You knew he wasn’t typing up an essay. 

(10:41am) Seokjin: And then I took you home

You raised both your eyebrows. He took you home? Why did that surprise you so much? 

(10:41am) You: Thanks (10:42am) Seokjin: How’s your head?  (10:43am) You: Hurts  (10:43am) You: Everything hurts  (10:43am) Seokjin: 🤣 

Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and managed to stand up. You were done talking to him of he was just going to laugh at your misery. Besides, he’d told you all you needed to know. The mystery was solved. Next, you needed to shower. 

Immediately. 

You were still feeling extremely fragile the next morning but managed to get into the office at 9am sharp with the help of coffee. You’d spent the night on the phone to Ana, getting all the nitty gritty details about her hook up with Yoongi. Apparently, they’d bumped into each other outside after she’d slipped out for some fresh air and had gotten talking. He’d told her about his recent breakup, and having been cheated on before, naturally Ana and he had bonded, and said bonding had led to kissing. Lots of it. Which had then led to lots of sex back at her apartment. (Yes, he did know how to use his dick if anyone was curious, and yes, it was very pretty.)

You’d expected to hear about it from Seokjin this morning but he was actually uncharacteristically quiet. Although, it might have been because he was partially blindsided when he got into the office. First, he was late, which had never happened before. No matter what you thought of Seokjin, he was always punctual and professional (when it was called for). And second, there was a surprise waiting for him. 

Jungkook had draped his entire desk and chair in strings of fairy lights. Everything was lit up. It was a lot, but even you had to admit it was funny, and you hated their pranking war with a burning passion. Mainly because you were always caught in the middle. Seokjin however, seemed a little out of it. You mean, he still laughed, tried to wrestle Jungkook in the middle of Hoseok’s good morning greeting, but something about him seemed off. You couldn’t put a finger on it, it was almost like he was forcing it. 

He hardly looked at you when you asked him what he had planned for payback. Shrugging his shoulders as he rolled his chair out and slumped in it – lights still twinkling. “Who knows.” 

“I thought you had a bunch of ideas up your sleeve?” You’d spent a good half an hour discussing them Saturday night. 

That got his attention. He raised an eyebrow as he stared at you. “You remember that? I thought everything was a blur?” 

“Yeah, anything after we caught our best friends getting freaky on the streets.” You chuckled, feeling a little uneasy by the way he was still looking at you, as if he was suspicious of something. 

After a moment he gave up…Possibly? Upturning his shoulder he gave you a small smile. “Lightweight.” He didn’t meet your eyes though and leaned over to start pulling at a string of lights that laid between your desks. 

You reached over on instinct, placing your hand over his to stop him. He recoiled a little and you pulled back. What was that reaction for? “Keep them up,” you told him, choosing to ignore whatever had just happened. “It’s Christmas after all.” 

You dropped your hand under the desk, it tingled a little. Seokjin’s hand had felt warm, familiar? The inklings of something floated around the sides of your brain but you couldn’t place your finger on it. 

“Just don’t blow us up,” you joked. 

Wait. Seokjin’s stupid Christmas jumper from Saturday night. You remembered now. It had lit up and you’d wondered how he hadn’t set himself on fire yet. That was it. What was trying to seep into your brain just now. Hopefully things were coming back to you slowly… You’d remember everything in no time, you were sure of it. 

Meanwhile Seokjin nodded slowly, retreating his hand as he smiled at you slightly. 

Was he feeling okay? You thought about asking him. Maybe his mom was still taking it bad that he wouldn’t make Christmas this year? You opened your mouth, full intentions to check in on him, but stopped yourself. It wasn’t really your place. You didn’t know his personal life all too well. You mean, yeah, he’d told you some things lately, but you didn’t want to overstep the mark. He was probably just having a bad day. Everyone had them. 

However, you had to admit there was something quite unnerving about seeing him so downcast. It didn’t suit him. 

What on earth could have happened? 

.

.

The last week of work flew by. It was always the same, the office in a rush to finish up all loose ends before the two week holiday. You and Seokjin had one last meeting on Wednesday morning, just to check in and make sure everything was ready for Friday. The buffet was getting delivered the morning of and that’s when Seokjin was going to decorate the conference room. You’d been in charge of the Christmas playlist but he didn’t seem to have much interest when you’d shown him your choices. In fact, he was still acting a little strange. 

He was quiet, not his usual self, as in, he wasn’t constantly finding ways to annoy you. In fact, you barely spoke unless you had to, which before this Christmas party would’ve been great – the norm actually. However now, things were different. Had you done something to upset him? You couldn’t think what. Maybe you’d offended him when you were drunk and couldn’t remember? You thought about asking him but couldn’t find the nerve. Besides, Seokjin didn’t seem the type to get offended by trivial things. You and he tended to be at one another’s throats most (all) of the time, but it was all done in jest. You didn’t despise him, he just got on your nerves – like you got on his. You couldn’t imagine yourself saying anything terrible to him, especially because from what you could remember of that night, you’d both had fun… Hanging out with Seokjin wasn’t too bad, drunk or sober. 

So, things continued to remain a mystery, until that was, the next day… 

.

.

“Here, I got you something.”

You looked away from your computer at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, finding him stood above you, his winter coat nearly buttoned all the way up. It was just after lunch on Thursday but Seokjin and Hoseok had to head off for an emergency meeting with a client who wanted to discuss something before Christmas. 

Your forehead furrowed when you saw he was holding out a small glittery gift bag and when you took too long to take it he shook it. You reacted, taking it from him but still questioning him with your eyes. “Seokjin, Secret Santa is tomorrow.” 

“No, it’s not for that,” he informed you, his voice oddly quiet. Now you were even more confused. Why had he gotten you a gift? You felt oddly embarrassed as you played with the ribbon handles nervously. 

“I got Beryl,” he grumbled, easily making you ease up and chuckle. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d purchased a sixty year old grandma… A bar of soap probably. 

As if you couldn’t stop it, your fingers were opening up the gift. Seokjin noticed and started babbling immediately. “I saw it when I was out shopping for decorations and it made me think of you… I hope you like it. Sorry if you don’t.” 

You awed as you pulled out a small Christmas bauble, green and gold in colour with the painting of a black cat in the centre, complete with a Christmas hat between its ears. It was beautiful and quirky – and totally unexpected. You’d gotten him a damn pair of lame ass cufflinks. 

“You can hang it on your tree at home or something,” you heard him suggest. 

You looked up at him, still a little speechless but you managed to get something out. “Thank you, Seokjin. I love it.” 

His face lit up at that. The first time you’d seen him genuinely smile all week. “You do?” 

You nodded, finding yourself unable to otherwise reply. Your heart felt a little funny. It was good to see him a cheerful, you’d missed it. He always looked good when he smiled… 

He was looking at you, and you didn’t know whether you’d been staring first, but he was watching you carefully now, gaze slightly intense, as if he was trying to work something out, to find something. You dropped your chin, feeling embarrassed, cheeks hot. Why did you feel so strange? You were making it obvious. 

“You really don’t remember Saturday night?” He spoke suddenly, tone soft, careful. 

You froze. Straitening to look at him again you shook your head. “Nope.” You forced out a laugh. “It’s still a total blank. Can you believe it? Tequila is my mortal enemy.” 

One side of Seokjin’s mouth raised into a half smile, but he didn’t look too amused. You felt something trickle down your spine – a bad feeling. “Seokjin?” You questioned, finding courage. “Why? What happened?” You needed to know. 

“Hm?” He hummed, lost in thought. His face was serious once again. 

“What happened Saturday night?” 

He shook his head, squeezing out a small chuckle. It had fake written all over it. “Nothing.” 

“Something must’ve happened,” you insisted, growing a little frustrated. Whatever it was  had something to do with his odd behaviour. 

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. His cheeks were growing flushed but that just annoyed you. “It’s nothing. You were just wasted.” 

“Tell me now!” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. The office was pretty empty at the moment, some still in the staffroom, others busy around the building, but you still didn’t want anyone overhearing something personal. 

“No.” He refused. He looked stressed out. 

“Seokjin!” He was stressing you out now. What the hell had you done that night?! 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Why?” You practically wailed. 

“It’s embarrassing.” 

“What happened?” You were losing it now, thinking the worst. “What did I do?” 

He sighed loudly, finally giving in. “You kissed me.”

Silence. 

The colour drained from your face at his revelation, dread instantly filling you. What? You hadn’t been expecting that. Whatever your mind had thought up, it definitely wasn’t that.

“We kissed, okay?” He continued. “I took you home, you practically begged me to come inside and we kissed.” 

“Oh, my god,” you replied weakly, head now in your hands. You took a deep breath, trying to wrack your brains for any memories. How could you have forgotten such a major thing?! You invited Seokjin into your apartment? You kissed him? No wonder he’d been acting so strange this past week. You’d put him in such an awkward position. He was embarrassed and now so were you… 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin apologised, down to a whisper. “I should’ve told you but I just didn’t know how. I wasn’t expecting you to forget everything and I didn’t know how to –” He stopped himself with a groan, going around in circles. 

Meanwhile, things were coming back to you. Not memories as such, more like hazy images and the faintest of sensations. His words had dislodged something. Dancing together, his hands on your body, his breath on your neck. The uber ride home. Stood in your entry way. Your hands on his arms. The feeling of his body pressed into yours. Your mouths attached and hungry. You felt yourself burn, unclear recollections stirring something hidden inside of you. 

“…Y/N?” Seokjin prompted. You managed to look at him but that was it. You mouth wouldn’t work, and what could you say anyway? How could you explain yourself when you couldn’t remember all the details? 

“It’s fine.” He told you suddenly, thinking he was reassuring you. “Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“Seokjin, you ready?” 

You both startled at the sound of Hoseok’s voice and looked up to see him stood in his office doorway, buttoning up his coat. 

Seokjin nodded, a little dazed. “Uh, yeah, coming. Won’t be a minute.” 

“Last minute party planning, huh?” Hoseok grinned. “I’ll meet you in the car.” 

“Look, I gotta go,” Seokjin told you once Hoseok had strolled off. “You’ll probably be gone by the time I get back, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spoke in a rush, not giving you time to respond. Your mouth opened, but he cut in. “It’s fine, Y/N. Trust me.” 

And then he was gone. 

You looked down at the Christmas bauble on your desk, so mortified you felt like crying.  

Crying might have been a tad dramatic, you admit. So you didn’t. You were a mixture of embarrassed and confused, unable to concentrate properly the rest of the afternoon. How had you kissed Seokjin and just forgotten about it? It was scary to think something like that could happen, a blind spot in your memory. His revelation had helped you remember some bits but there was nothing concrete. You spent your evening forcing yourself to recall more details, talking things over with Ana on the phone. You couldn’t not tell her. Not when you were in the middle of having a mini breakdown. 

She was interested in a lot more than just remembering the kiss though… 

“So if you remember him kissing you back what does that mean?” She demanded. 

You groaned. “I don’t even know if I’m remembering it correctly.” But why would your mind play tricks on you? Although, false memories were a thing… 

“Of course you are! Dick cheese likes you. It’s obvious! Classic high school bullshit.” 

“Ana, please,” you sighed. Now wasn’t the time for her theories. “He was drunk too,” you reasoned. “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean he likes me. I don’t like him, do I?” Yet, you’d grinded all over him on the dancefloor. (The memories of that were now clearer, and they made your cheeks burn…)

“Hmm.” She didn’t sound too convinced. 

“Ana, come on!” You cried. “It was a stupid mistake, and now I’ve just made things super awkward between us.” 

No wonder Seokjin had been acting weird all week, and there you’d been completely oblivious! The thought was enough to make you groan out loud. How could you go to work tomorrow? Host a party with him when things were so awkward?!

“I mean… You two need to talk about it properly. Make sure there’s no crossed wires. If you’re both on the same page then there’s no need for things to be awkward between you.” 

You rolled your eyes. She made it seem so easy. She wasn’t the one who’d made out with her co-worker. She never had to see her hook up ever again. While you had to look yours in the eye five days a week for the rest of your life quite possibly.

“You guys didn’t even hook up,” Ana screeched when you told her just that. “A slight fumble in your hallway isn’t exactly something you need to relocate for. Just talk to him.” 

Simple, right?  

But nothing ever was... 

“Let’s just forget about it,” Seokjin smiled your way as you both helped carry in the buffet food the next morning. He was holding the building’s door open for you with his back, letting you slip in first as you cradled the cardboard box filled with things you couldn’t even remember ordering. Too preoccupied with trying to bring up yesterday. 

You paused, not expecting him to shrug it off like that. In fact, it got you pretty speechless. Were you hurt? As much as Ana’s idea had made you want the earth to open up and swallow you, it made sense to talk things out with him. 

This morning you’d remembered even more while you’d brushed your teeth… Seokjin helping you slip the skirt of your dress down, finding your kitchen to get you some water… You were slowly piecing things together and it was confusing the hell out of you… You wished more than anything you could remember the whole thing. To know what was going on inside your head at the time, because right now you were a mess. 

But hearing Seokjin sound so flippant, so unfazed made you a little deflated… What if you didn’t want to forget about it? 

“I mean, you did already, so,” he gave a shrug and you followed him into the elevator in a daze. 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” you forced yourself to say, hitting the third floor button. You turned to look at him and plastered a smile onto your face. It hurt. “Good idea.” 

.

.

“Where is he?” Jungkook whined like a big kid. (The Christmas jumper he was wearing with a giant teddy bear in the centre didn’t help things…) “He knows I’m starving. Been saving myself all day for this.”

You raised a judgemental eyebrow. “You didn’t even have breakfast?” 

He looked at you, shooting you a quick wink. “I’m treating this buffet like it deserves to be treated. Like it’s my one and only.” At his side, Mina giggled. 

“Let’s just open up,” Hoseok suggested, reaching for the handle of the conference door. 

“No!” You exclaimed, standing in front of it. 

You were all waiting around like a bunch of lemons, Seokjin having done a disappearing act just before the party was due to start. Jungkook had already tried to call him three times but his phone was engaged. Everyone was getting impatient, but he needed to be here to see everyone’s reactions to his decorating. He’d been in there all morning, blinds closed, not even you knew what it looked like in there. 

“Y/N, come on,” Jungkook cried dramatically. “He won’t mind, let’s just get in there!”

“Fine,” you gave in, turning around to open up. You didn’t really have a choice, everyone was gearing up to trample you… 

One look inside had you a little speechless. It was beautiful, the room decorated like Santa’s Grotto. Seokjin had done an amazing job, and you felt bad for ever doubting his skill. For ever doubting his sincerity when it came to planning this entire party… 

“Oh, whoa,” Jungkook gasped behind you, sounding wholly surprised. “Jin did so well on the decorations.” You turned back to agree but saw him smirking. “You must be pissed.” 

“Shut up,” you scoffed and immediately swatted his hand away from a tray of sandwiches. “No! You have to wait!” 

Jungkook made a noise of agony, practically flaking out in one of the chairs. “I’m this close to passing out!”

You sighed at his dramatics. “I’ll go and look for him.” He can’t have gone far, surely? You pointed at everyone as you stepped out, expression stern. “No starting this party until I find him – and no eating food.” 

Jungkook whimpered. 

As you walked out of the office and down one flight of stairs you started to grow worried. What if something was wrong? Maybe there’d been an emergency and he’d had to leave…? Only, those thoughts didn’t have a chance to go too far as you spotted him almost immediately a little down the hallway. The second floor was unoccupied, most of the rooms either used for storage or ominously locked. He was stood with a shoulder against the wall, his back to you. The Santa’s hat he’d been wearing earlier was shoved into his back pocket. You’d caught him just in time, he was finishing up a phone call before staring at the screen, deep in thought it seemed. 

You suddenly felt nervous… You hadn’t been alone together at all since this morning and you’d been slightly miserable ever since then. Ever since he’d shut down the conversation you so badly wanted. You caught him staring your way a few times, when he was coming in and out of the conference room mid decorating – or maybe he was catching you staring. Who knew anymore. Your head was a mess, confused and unexplainably disappointed. 

But you needed to suck it up. There was a Christmas party to pull off, and it needed both its hosts…

“Seokjin?” You called, walking closer. 

He turned around with a start, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket. “Oh, hey.”

You took a moment to admire his Christmas jumper – a dabbing Santa Claus, which was pretty 2016 now, but whatever. You were wearing one similar to the bauble he’d gifted you yesterday, a cat wearing a Christmas hat, but you’d paired it with a Mrs. Claus skirt you wore every year without fail. Oh. You suddenly remembered something. Seokjin telling you he had a whole drawer full of Christmas sweaters. The thought should’ve made you laugh but you were still so nervous. You heart felt a little funny as you stared up at him. 

One thing was for certain, you didn’t think you could forget about the kiss. 

Could you excuse yourself to run away and call Ana? But then there’d be zero hosts at the party and Jungkook would disintegrate from hunger… You needed to power on. 

“Everyone’s wondering where you went,” you said, voice sounding strange as you spoke into the unsettling silence. 

You really didn’t want things to be awkward. You would hate it so much. You understood you didn’t have the best of relationships, but it worked for you both. Now it could all be ruined, and you didn’t want that. You didn’t know what you wanted…

Seokjin hesitated before tapping his pocket. “Sorry, phone call. Some type of insurance sales shit.” 

You nodded, unsure why you didn’t quite believe him, but chose to ignore it, giving him a short smile. “We should hurry up. Jungkook is salivating in there. He’s two seconds away from devouring the whole buffet.” 

Seokjin chuckled lightly at that. “Expected. He’s been fasting since 7pm last night.” 

Why didn’t that surprise you? 

“He’s already forced his way inside. Sorry. I tried to hold them off for as long as possible.”

“That’s my own fault.” He shrugged, then gave you a gentle smile. “Thanks for trying.” 

Your heart did a little flip. You tried to ignore it. “You did a great job on decorating by the way.” 

“You sound surprised,” he teased. “How many times do I have to say I lo– 

“You love Christmas, yes, okay, I believe you now.” You interrupted with a laugh. You remembered that from Saturday night, but you wanted to remember all of it. 

You opened your mouth, you needed to tell him. You needed to tell him you didn’t want to forget. “Seokjin,” you began, unsure how to continue. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. However it seemed he had things to say himself…

“I lied.”

Huh? 

His admission caught you off guard. He could probably tell by your face. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. “I lied about the phone call. It was Yoongi. He was giving me a pep talk.” 

“A pep talk?” You repeated, now aware you could hear your own heartbeat. 

He took a step forward and let out a deep breath, gearing himself up. “I can’t stop thinking about last weekend, Y/N.” Your heart was thudding now. “I know I said we should forget about it but I can’t. You don’t remember it and I know you regret it and I’m sorry for,” he stopped to sigh in frustration. “I don’t know, I just feel really guilty. Because I really enjoyed kissing you.” 

He was staring straight into your eyes, no more than a foot between you. He looked nervous and remorseful. You didn’t like it. 

Firm, you held his gaze. “I don’t regret it.” That thought had never crossed your mind. Even through all the shock and mortification. Yes, your memories were extremely vague, but you didn’t regret the kiss. If anything you were curious. Even more curious now. 

Seokjin paused, not expecting your reply, but he sounded hopeful. “You don’t?” 

You shook your head. “I was embarrassed when you told me, yes, but that was because I thought I’d made a fool of myself – I mean, I still did, but if you enjoyed kissing me I guess it was worth it.” 

Seokjin had enjoyed kissing you, and from your foggy memories, you’d enjoyed kissing him too. You smiled. It was contagious as he grinned your way too. 

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself. At all.” He stressed. “Do you remember anything now?” He sounded concerned, still unsure how to go about this. 

“Bits and pieces, yeah.” You admitted. “You got me a glass of water and then left…” 

He looked guilty. “I lost myself a little, I admit, but I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t go through with it because you were so drunk and I was pretty sure you hated me and I could never take advantage of you like that.” 

Your heart fluttered. Genuine Seokjin was dangerous for you. “I don’t hate you,” you told him pointedly, crossing your arms across your chest, the beginnings of a smirk itching to appear. “You annoy me to no end but that’s sort of your charm, I guess.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, sensing the change in atmosphere as he asked smugly, “My charm?”

“Don’t ruin it,” you snipped, feeling brave as you stepped closer to him to tilt your head and run a hand down his chest – down the dabbing Santa… “So, you liked kissing me?” 

He nodded enthusiastically, curiously watching your movements. “It felt good. And not just in my dick but like, everywhere.” 

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed, rendered speechless. 

“What?” He asked, eyes wide. He grabbed your hips pulling you closer and you couldn’t help but squeal, reaching for his shoulders. He felt good. Big and warm and familiar. “I’m trying to talk about my feelings here.” 

He was teasing you, sure, but he was also telling the truth. You knew that. Feelings was a scary word, an uncertain word, but you thought you liked the way it made you feel. Maybe Ana was correct… Maybe a part of you did like Seokjin. It sure felt like it right now…

“Kiss me,” you whispered, gaze on his mouth before it flickered to his eyes. “I’m sober now and I want to see if I like it too.” 

You already knew the answer. He did too by the smirk on his face, but he listened anyway, closing the distance between your mouths. His lips felt instantly familiar, making you feel at ease as they pressed into yours. Fluttering his eyes closed you followed suit and he moved gently, tentatively, as if he couldn’t believe it – as if he didn’t want to ruin anything. From the back of your mind vague memories started to wind their way forward, his kiss drawing them out. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body into his ever so slightly with a soft sigh. The tip of his tongue found yours, hints of it joining each drag of his mouth and something lit up inside of you. So you were inevitably disappointed when he pulled back, giving your hips a soft squeeze.

“So?” He grinned. 

You hummed out loud, running your fingers through the hair against the nape of his neck. He liked that. You remembered running them through his hair on the dancefloor, his hands on your body. Stomach doing somersaults, you wanted more – needed more. “Maybe a bit more tongue and I’ll give you an answer…” 

He breathed out a shaky laugh and you thought he might hit back with something but there was no time for talking, not when he couldn’t bear to be away from your lips. Listening, he licked into your mouth, moving with a lot more confidence now. He held you tight before one of his hands came up to softly cup your cheek, the quietest of noises escaping his throat – showing just how much he was enjoying himself. You joined him, moaning gently into the kiss, your tongues untiring as the air around you shifted. 

It was when your back hit the wall did you truly let yourself leave go, hands exploring the expanse of his back as he crowded you, humming greedily against your lips, his hands holding your face as if he couldn’t bear to leave you and come up for air. More memories fluttered their way past your eyelids, a lot more vivid now, Seokjin’s tongue beckoning them  to the forefront of your mind. 

You remembered your kiss was hot and heavy, up against your entry way wall. You had wanted him so bad in that moment and here wasn’t much different. It was like you had been thrown right back there – that eagerness, that want. The only reason you pulled away eventually was because you literally needed to breath. You didn’t fancy passing out, enjoying yourself way too much… 

“I can’t believe you said to forget about this,” you managed to speak, breathless, lips wet and flush as you ran your hands across the broadness of his shoulders. God. You couldn’t stop touching him. 

“I can’t believe you did forget about this,” he exclaimed. He was breathing heavy, just like at the club when you’d grinded all over him. Your memory was on your side now. All it had needed was a prod.   

He did have you there. Your bad. But – “In my defence you supplied the tequila shots.” Although, you had suggested a second round… 

He chuckled, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip. “Stop giving me attitude. It’s turning me on.” 

You stomach flipped, your fingernails digging into the wool blend of his jumper as you held him to you. You wanted to kiss him for hours, because now that you’d started you didn’t want to stop. 

“Should we head back now?” Seokjin asked against a curl of your tongue, one hand against the wall, the other stroking your jaw line. “They’re probably wondering where we both are.” 

“In a moment,” you murmured, a hand of yours bravely dragging down his side. You hit the waistband of his jeans and curled a finger through a belt loop, nudging his crotch flush to yours. Your mouth did the rest of the talking. Sober you wanted what drunk you had missed out on. 

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter, immediately understanding where you wanted this to lead. “Or we can just ditch those losers and go to my place?” He drew back to catch your reaction. “Your place?”

“We can’t do that.” As tempting as that sounded, you couldn’t not attend your own Christmas party you’d spent weeks organising. Seokjin was hot, but he wasn’t that hot. Plus, it would way too suspicious if you both just disappeared… 

Seokjin agreed with a little sigh. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

That didn’t mean you couldn’t think of other ideas though…

“What are you doing?” Seokjin asked, moving back slightly as you wrestled for your phone in your skirt pocket. He watched you search for Jungkook’s name in your phonebook – you were sure you still had his number from when you’d had to “mentor” him the first week he’d arrived. Success! You did! You hurriedly text him. 

(13:31pm) You: I can’t find him. Start without us but LEAVE me some food

He replied immediately. He was probably withering away by now, the poor boy. 

(13:32pm) Jungkook: Oh man Jin is so fucking dead  (13:32pm) Jungkook: Tell him I love him before you stick the knife in 🤪 (13:32pm) You: Sure thing 

You looked up at Seokjin and grinned. “Just bought us half an hour.”

He looked impressed, an eyebrow cocked as he regarded you. “What are we going to do in half hour? – and please don’t say kill me.” 

You giggled – actually giggled. Damn him. You reached for his belt loop again, tugging it gently. “Whatever it is, we can���t do it out in the hallway.” 

You were playing a very dangerous game here. Out in the open, at your place of work. The storeroom was probably an even sillier idea – but that’s where you ended up dragging him into, flipping on the light to save being surrounded in darkness. You were 99% sure the surveillance cameras didn’t work on this floor anyway, so…

“You’re crazy,” he laughed weakly in disbelief, stumbling over an (empty) mop bucket as he went to reach for you. 

“And you love it,” you smirked against his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

The urge took over again, now in the privacy of the storage cupboard you were free to do whatever you liked. Seokjin grew hard against you quickly, your mouths locked together in haste as his palms felt up your ass. It wasn’t long before he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his middle as he continued to kiss you greedily against the wall. His hands slipped  under your skirt, cupping your ass and you tried to circle your hips as best you could, feeling his erection through the layers of your tights and underwear, both of you straining out moans and grunts. 

“I’m having déjà vu,” he grinned, lowering his mouth to nip at your neck. You gasped, pushing into him and he took the opportunity to begin to kiss your throat. Just like last time… Déjà vu, indeed. 

Breaking away he looked between your bodies, the band of white wool along your skirt protecting your modesty, but only just. “You weren’t dressed as Mrs. Claus though.” He sunk his teeth into your neck once more, a little harder this time and you jerked, yelping as you squeezed the tops of his arms. He liked that reaction, licking a broad strip up the column of your throat, getting you all kinds of wet and sticky. 

No doubt between your legs matched. You were hot, and impatient, and Seokjin’s mouth was evil. Especially when he lifted his head, dark fringe in his eyes, and smirked at you. Fuck, you really wanted him. Your heart was doing somersaults. 

“A fucking sexy Mrs. Claus.” 

You immediately rolled your eyes. Why was he ruining it? You were not about to partake in some sordid Christmas roleplay fantasy of his… “Just shut up and kiss me.” 

He didn’t really feel like answering back. 

A few minutes later you were placed back on the floor, your legs a little shaky as you clung to him, mouths still unrelenting. You were both heavy breathed and burning with desire. He pinned you to the wall with his thigh, separating your legs and giving you something else to grind against as his lips trailed the expanse of your throat, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he teared your hosiery. 

You were weak, slick against your underwear and desperate for some sort of release. Seokjin panted against your ear. “Do you remember what you said that night?” Moaning was all you could give in reply. “You wanted my dick. You were begging for it.” 

Hearing him speak like that drove you wild. “Mmhm. Remind me.” You could vaguely remember, too pent up to get embarrassed. 

He moved his thigh, pressing his crotch flush to yours and hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your face so he could kiss you again. You could feel his erection and unable to hold off any longer you reached between you and wrapped your hand around him. You could recall doing this before, Seokjin stopping you, but this time he did no such thing. Instead, he pushed into your touch, his voice thick with something that made you shiver as he spoke. 

“You drive me crazy… Every god damn day…” 

Your mind was a little too preoccupied to truly concentrate on his words but they seemed to stir something inside of you. Nudge something that had been forgotten. You couldn’t place it, but it had to do with last weekend. Something he’d said to you… before he’d kissed you… You couldn’t remember but the faintest of memories made you glow. 

“W-we should really just head to my place,” Seokjin stammered slightly, keening into your touch. You were sure his thighs were trembling, all the blood in his dick turning him weak. 

“There’s no need,” you breezed, and before you could take a moment to reconsider you were dropping to your knees. 

“Fuck, what are you doing?” He was practically beside himself, fingers digging into your shoulders as he watched you reach for the buttons on his jeans. 

“What do you think?” 

He sighed exhaustedly, a red flush beginning to travel its way up his neck, peeking above the collar of his sweater. “You’re trying to kill me.” 

Whatever he’d been expecting to happen in here hadn’t been you sucking his dick, you could tell. You took great pleasure in that. It was fun getting this kind of reaction from him. Truth was, when the mood struck, the mood struck, and you wanted him – badly. 

He watched you unbutton him, his black underwear coming into view – Calvin Klein, the band told you, and above that, where his jumper had ridden up, you could see a sliver of smooth tan skin – You just knew he was hiding a great body under there, but now wasn’t the time for stripping. You needed to be quick. 

You tugged his jeans down a little past his hips, enough for easy access. “You really want to kill–ughgh –!” 

He broke off with a surprised moan, your hand reaching inside his boxers to pull out his dick. Wrapping your palm around the base you gripped automatically, staring at what you could only describe as his third leg, with a slack jaw. “Of course you have a fucking massive dick,” you muttered, feeling a little unnerved. 

Surprise immediately dissipating, Seokjin gave you a smirk. “That obvious, huh?”

You breathed heavily through your nose, beginning to run your fist along his length on instinct. It was a good looking dick, you’d give him that. Tense at your sudden movements, Seokjin soon eased up, watching you carefully. You looked up at him, giving him a tiny, slightly shy smile… There really was no going back now. Not that you wanted to. Things had changed and they were going to change even more after this… 

“Come on,” he murmured, a hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. His voice sounded dangerous, low and honeyed as he gazed at you on your knees for him. “Suck it like I know you want to…” 

You scoffed, although surely he could see the effect he had on you. You weren’t bluffing anybody, not even yourself. “Don’t rush me.” 

Seokjin looked amused, but that soon changed when you swiped your tongue across the head of his cock in one fluid and determined motion. His knees pretty much buckled, a hand reaching for the side of your head, his fingers weaving into your hair. You chuckled a little mischievously, your lips wrapped around him, knowing the vibrations would fuck with his head some more. Seokjin laughed stiffly along, knowing what you were up to – knowing you loved having this sort of effect on him – but it sounded strained, wavering in the middle as his eyes locked with yours, the veins in his neck beginning to bulge with the strain. 

You moved, wrapping your lips around him further, your tongue washing against the hot skin and he stumbled forward a little, a grunt slipping from his mouth. That fuelled you, slipping him deeper, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside before you pulled back and repeated. You weren’t kidding when you said he had a massive dick, it was almost daunting, but you found a way around it, massaging your fist along the base of him in time with your mouth until you found a confident rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

That boosted your ego too, taking great pleasure in the way you seemed to have stunned Seokjin into more or less complete silence. He wasn’t very cocky right now, was he? If you had known sucking his dick would shut him up, you’d have done it long ago – or maybe that was your own horniness talking… Who knew right now. 

You popped off him, running your palm wider, further along to circle over the head, your saliva acting as lubrication, quiet squelching noises slipping from between your fingers. You smirked up at him, “Am I still boring?”

It took him a moment to process your question, his body hunched, surrendering to the pleasure, and you admired the way his lips parted, each breath audible as he stared down at you, dark eyes glazed over. God, he was hot. How had you been so unbothered by him for so long? 

Shaking his head, he halfway came to. “Sucking my dick in a storeroom, can’t get any wilder than this. Well done, you proved me wrong.” 

That was nice to hear. You liked it when he was wrong, mainly because you loved being right. You wrapped your free hand around the top of his thigh, needing the support as you took his dick in your mouth again. Feeling ambitious you willed yourself to relax as you eased along him, taking him deeper, beginning to bob back and forth, the faintest of noises escaping the back of your throat. 

It drove him crazy, his head falling back as he whined. “If this is all just to prove a point and you stop before I cum, I’m going to cry like a motherfucking baby.” 

You tried to laugh but ended up choking, gagging on his cock – unflattering surely, but he seemed to love it, his eyes flashing as he cupped your hand that gripped his girth, gently pulling it away to place on his other thigh. He didn’t want his view obstructed he watched. Besides, you didn’t need your hand as a safety net anymore anyway…

“Fu-ck, you look so good sucking my dick,” he awed, his voice hoarse. He tightened the hold he had on your hair, the fingers of his other hand brushing rouge strands out of your face. You looked up at him, mouth stuffed and he smirked. It made your core pulse. “On your knees. You couldn’t get down there quick enough.” 

A moan slipped from your throat, pulsating against his cock. Of course the guy had a filthy mouth, it should’ve been obvious. What was shocking though, was the effect it had on you. Dirty talk was cringeworthy in your eyes, not many men could pull it off – not even Namjoon – but words like that coming from Seokjin?! You were sure you’d just freshly drenched your underwear. It would surely be a slip ‘n’ slide down there when he finally got his hands on you – If he got his hands on you. Fuck, he better. 

A nudge of his hips cut short your momentary distraction, realising that Seokjin was beginning to thrust ever so slightly into your mouth. He noticed your attention on him and asked hesitantly, “This okay?” 

“Mhmmhmm,” you hummed, gurgling a little which seemed to drive him a little crazy. You let him take control, concentrating on breathing through your nose and pleasuring him with your tongue as he gently fucked your mouth. 

You were losing your mind, hazy pleasure blurring your vision and clouding your thoughts.  Rationality was out the window long ago, all that you knew was the red, hot want you had for him. The Christmas party and the fact you were risking your job right now didn’t come into play, all you cared about was chasing that desire. 

Looking up at Seokjin you noticed his eyes were closed now, his chin tilted towards the ceiling, expression contorted with pleasure as the quietest of moans escaped his throat with each rugged breath he took. You pulsed down below, only this time the urge burned its way up your body, getting hotter as he quickened his motions, seemingly losing himself, seemingly pursuing his end. 

He pulled back abruptly during one withdraw, breath shaky as he kept the tip of his cock inside your mouth, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from the warm wetness. You sucked firmly, catching his gaze and he just about lost it, eyes rolling into the back of his skull. 

“Shit,” he cursed, ever so slightly nudging further into you, edging himself almost. You darted the tip of your tongue along his slit, earning yourself a soft hiss. His thighs were trembling, you could feel the vibrations under your palm and his neck was thick and tense with strain, patched red, as he tried his might to gain some control over the pleasure you were giving him. “J-Just checking, there’s no chance we’ll have sex in here, right?” 

His voice trembled too, all light and airy and so unlike his voice that you were familiar with. His eyes were blow wide as he gaped down at you, his lips plumper than you’d ever seen them before. He was beautiful. Damn, you really wanted to kiss him again… 

You slid away, cupping your hand around his dick to jerk him off ever so slowly, a couple of inches along the base. He was more than slick now, coated in your spit, flesh veiny and angry red. Shifting on your knees, ignoring the cricks to power on through, you shrugged. “Not unless you carry condoms with you at work.” 

He pondered for a moment. “I can’t say I do.” That caused you to chuckle, leaning in to curl your tongue against the side of his cock. He startled, a loud moan escaping that was surely unnecessary, but it did wonders for your ego. 

He tightened his hold on your head, angling you to the tip of his dick, desperate to get back into your warmth. “So you won’t be disappointed when I inevitably bust a nut?” 

You raised an eyebrow, his cock drawing translucent patterns against your lips as you replied. “That’s why I’m down here.” 

He whimpered, the sheer thought of coming exciting him further. You slipped him back inside, feeling him grip his fingers into your hair, anchoring himself – and you, in preparation. 

“Oh, ffuck,” he muttered, watching you begin to meet every thrust his hips gave you. You were determined, eager for him to cum. You hadn’t sucked dick in so long but now you were in your element, each reaction from Seokjin, no matter how small, encouraging you. The fact he was hiding a foot long in his pants was now no issue at all. You were a pro, just like in all aspects of life. 

A strange sound left the back of Seokjin’s throat, almost as if he was getting strangled and his shoulders slumped, the rest of him growing stiff. “Where am I doing this?” He asked weakly. “Y/N?” He demanded pretty shrilly when you didn’t reply. 

You weren’t relenting, somehow pushing him deeper into your mouth and down your throat and he groaned loudly, blunt nails digging into your scalp. “You want me to cum down your throat?” 

Ding Ding. Clever Seokjin. 

You nodded widely around his girth, gagging a little a process, but this time you owned it. He loved it. 

“Fuck.” He grunted, spreading his feet a little, planting himself to the tiles. “You really want my fucking cum.” 

You moaned, sending a fire of vibrations up his dick and you knew you had him. His hips stilled almost instantly, his cock rammed inside your mouth and you readjusted, using your tongue to coax his release. He came with a deep exhale like moan, stumbling forward with a surprised grunt as one of his hands reached out to slam into the wall behind you. You held him steady with your hands flat against his thighs, swallowing his cum down quickly because you definitely had a love hate relationship with the stuff. Dealt with swiftly, you more than welcomed it. 

Seokjin softly chuckled down at you as he fell from your mouth, now well on his way to growing flaccid and eased off as you straightened your back and made motions to stand (on shaky legs). He tucked himself back inside his underwear, the snap of the waistband making you flutter. Flutter where you wanted him to touch the most. 

You felt warmth as he hooked a hand around your hip, pulling you to him with a bashful grin. “That was worth getting fired for.” 

You giggled, wiping the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand before cupping the back of his neck, dragging him closer as you backed up against the wall. You liked when he crowded around you, liked feeling him against your body. Your body that was screaming for him right now… 

“No one’s getting fired,” you reassured, voice a murmur and then either you or he connected your mouths again. Couldn’t tell who – it was probably both of you. It was amusing that you were the one assuring him, Miss. Uptight who worried about every single little thing. He was the one was supposed to be carefree, yet this had all been your idea. 

Your hand dragged down his chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs, and for a split second you thought about taking him up on the offer of ditching the party and driving to his place. You wanted to get him naked, wanted to see what you could feel, and you really wanted to fuck him. Yet, you knew it was a bad idea. Even worse than sucking dick on the second floor of the office building. Possibly. 

“How long do you think we have before they throw a search party?” Seokjin asked, cupping your face with one hand as the other snaked down to your ass. 

“We still have time.” 

You and Seokjin were always at one another’s throats, no one would guess you were actually getting it on directly underneath them… You were positive. 

“Hm. Enough for me to return the favour?” He contemplated. 

You made a noise of agreement, nodding eagerly as you stretched for his mouth, unable to just. Stop. Kissing. Him. 

It turned hot and heavy immediately, decision now made, and you grasped at one another, kissing wildly. “I love touching you,” he grunted against your tongue, hands gripping anything he could. You had to agree, especially his shoulders. You’d never felt anything like them in your entire life, no wonder he had the upper body strength to hold you up. He was big. Big big, and it was driving you crazy. 

“This ass,” he growled, pulling away from your lips as both hands cupped the rounds of flesh, giving them a very keen and firm squeeze. Skirt bunched up at your hips he had the perfect access. You moaned, the heat between your bodies becoming unbearable and you nearly collapsed into him when one of his hands found its way to your core, cupping the sensitive flesh hesitantly. That was until he felt how soaked you were. It had seeped through your underwear, dampening your tights. It felt heavy and uncomfortable but you guessed that was soon to change now that he’d gotten his hands on you… 

“So fucking wet,” he purred, dropping his height a little to meet your eyes. His fingers slipped inside your panties, his index and middle finger running along your folds before a knuckle found your clit, your hips bucking. He rubbed the bundle of nerves rather lightly, but it was enough. You were beside yourself, any pleasure, however slight, blowing your mind. You moaned sweetly, hot air puffing against Seokjin’s lips. He smirked. “Someone’s very responsive.”

“Please,” you moaned, however you weren’t too sure what you needed to beg for. 

He loved it though, smirking wider. “There she is.” 

“Please, Seokjin,” you repeated, clutching to the neck of his sweater. Hazy memories of last weekend drifted into the forefront of your mind. Begging him for his dick. Sadly, you couldn’t have that right now, but there was always second best. 

Leaning in as if to kiss you he pulled back last minute, a teasing lilt to his tone as he asked you a question. “What do you want, baby?” 

You moaned again, the pet name not so bad after all and pressed into his touch, the headiness in his voice making you tremble with need. Your answer was simple. “Your fingers.”  

Seokjin wasted no time, yanking his hand away to tug at your hosiery. They didn’t budge, so he moved his other hand from your ass to help. Maybe the light sheen of sweat that painted your skin had stuck tight the nylon – or maybe he was just useless… 

“What the hell are these?” He huffed, clearly impatient. 

“Stop, you’re going to rip them,” you told him off. All you needed was to walk back inside the office with laddered tights… How very unsuspicious… 

“They’re dumb.” 

“I’m sorry,” you exclaimed, “wasn’t expecting us to be getting it on today.”

Seokjin paused what he was doing to shoot you a look of sheer judgement. “Getting it on?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. Yes, maybe your choice of words were lame, but it still stood. You were getting it on right now!

He laughed and tugged at the waistband one last time, finally succeeding but also yanking down your underwear in the process. 

“Let me see you,” he strained out, gripping your hips and you had no time to feel embarrassed by your sudden waist-down nakedness. His eyes drunk up your soaked core, before he looked up at your face again, his right hand reaching for you, each brush of his fingertips turning you boneless. “Fuck. You have the best pussy I’ve ever seen.” 

He was kissing you again, pushing you further into the wall. Pussy. Under all circumstances that word was just yuck, but once again, coming from Seokjin it didn’t seem so bad anymore. It made your core leap, but that might have been something to do with the way he was nestling a deft, long finger inside of you. Your walls clenched around the intrusion as you moaned into his mouth and you gripped at his shoulders, rolling your hips as he started to curl the digit against your warmth. 

Ever so carefully he added a second finger, the burn easing quickly as pleasure took over. His thumb rubbed messy circles against your clit, your arousal beginning to squelch audibly inside the small room. You hooked your arms around his neck instead, pulling him closer and he grunted into your mouth, sounding unlike himself. 

“Seokjin–!” You mewled, falling from his mouth to catch your breath.

“Yeah, me,” he smirked, his free had rubbing small circles into your hip as he continued to give you what you wanted. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips landed on your throat and you pushed your head to the side, pretty sure you were moaning too loudly now but the stimulation was too good to ignore. You grew wetter. His fingers easily sliding in and out of you as he started to finger you quicker, the lewd squelching sticking inside your ears. 

“You’re soaked, Y/N. Did I do this?” He murmured against your ear before nibbling your lobe. You shuddered. “Sucking my dick made you so horny.” The hand on your hip slid to your ass, and he squeezed the meat hard, using it as leverage to go even faster. You squeezed around his fingers tightly, crying out. 

But then there was nothing but emptiness as he pulled them out, making you gasp out in shock. He looked playfully smug. “What’s up? Lost your voice?”

This fucker. Jungkook was right, you were going to murder him. Only not for going AWOL but for not giving you the orgasm you craved. Seokjin’s wet hand massaged the inside of your thigh, and you squeezed your legs together trying your best to ease the tension that was building up. 

“Seokjin, don’t fuck around.” You told him sternly, although your voice was anything but calm. 

“Am I fucking around?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear as he lowered his shoulders and stole another look at your needy heat. Something inside him changed then, as he let out a curse. “Shit. I wanna taste you.” His eyes pleaded with you. “Can taste you?” 

You were nodding before you realised, although you weren’t about to say please again – 

you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Instead you exhaled out a shaky yes. 

Squatting immediately he pulled the nylon passed your knees, lifting a foot to slip off one of your heels, the leg of your hosiery following soon after. You wobbled as he raised your foot higher and you reached out for his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“I got you,” he reassured. “I just need to spread you a little.” Hooking your foot on the bottom shelf of the cabinet next to you, your legs widened, giving him perfect access to where you needed him the most. “There,” he said, looking pleased with himself. 

His gaze soon darkened when he got a look at you and you braced yourself against the wall as he stalked nearer, a palm cupping your thigh before he followed the curve with his mouth, kissing his way closer and closer to your core. You groaned softly when his lips parted around your clit, warmth flooding you, slowly inking its way through your veins and darting his tongue out he brushed it against you slowly, repeating with the same rhythm until you were squirming, a hand reaching for his hair just for something to grip. 

He sped up, learning what your body liked quickly, dropping to one knee to sink further into you. You moaned pretty loudly when you felt his fingers press against your entrance, slipping inside, and you took him greedily and nosily, pushing into his tongue that had now curled around your clit as he sucked softly. 

You fell to pieces. Fingernails dragging along his scalp as you tugged at his hair. Which he seemed to love, by the way. If his grunting was anything to go by, his movements more determined, firmer. Each time he sucked, point of his tongue flicking against you, you lost it a bit more, gasping out in pleasure. Boy knew how to use his mouth, you were pleasantly surprised. 

He pulled back, his breath a little ragged and replaced his tongue with the pad of his thumb, rubbing tight, firm circles against your sticky clit. “You like getting your clit sucked. Noted.” He grinned, sending your stomach flipping. His mouth and chin were covered in your arousal, which he made no attempt to clean off. In fact, he went immediately back for seconds, licking a wide strip up your whole core, noises of satisfaction leaving him. 

“God, Seokjin,” you murmured weakly, dizzy and trembling. If he kept this up you were going to cum very soon. Especially with the way his fingers caressed your insides, pressing deep until he hit something that had you yelping. 

He looked triumphant as he dropped to both knees now, looking up at you, watching your reaction as he repeatedly curled against your g-spot. You squirmed around, pleasure becoming a little unbearable but oh, so addictive. 

“So, no one ends up fucking at the office Christmas party, huh?” He asked nonchalantly. This fucker was really having a casual conversation with you as he tried to bring you to your knees. By his smug grin, he knew what he was doing. 

Well, not on your watch. 

You bit back a moan, and shrugged, trying your best to sound normal. “We’re not going all the way so technically, that still stands.” 

He laughed loudly, genuinely amused, but his fingers had other ideas. He pulled out halfway, straightening his digits to fuck into you – hard. You choked out, feeling him slowly withdraw, letting you catch your breath before he repeated. And repeated. And repeated…

You were close to seeing stars, the moans rolling freely from your mouth as you clung to his hair. He was evil. “Seok–oh, shit,” you cursed, feeling him deep inside you yet again. “Seokjinnn.” 

“What is it, babe?” He asked, acting oblivious. At the name you clenched around his soaked fingers. “I knew you loved it when I called you that.” You didn’t have time to chew him out because his tongue was washing against your clit again, curling around it, prodding it, sucking it… Your eyes rolled back, a thin sheen of sweat coating your neck and chest, and you knew you weren’t long for this world. You were ten seconds away from becoming a puddle on the floor. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” You squeezed around his fingers again, clit pulsing against his tongue. “You love that too.” You could feel his shit eating grin against you but didn’t care.  

“Don’t stop,” you demanded, out of breath. 

“Not planning on it,” he affronted, licking up your folds once again. You gasped loudly, clenching your eyes tightly closed. You were hanging over the pinnacle, just a little more and you’d fall. You were this close to coming and you might explode in the process. 

“I’m going to make this pussy cum so good. So fucking good,” Seokjin almost goaded, which was in fact, what pushed you over the edge. You came with a loud, strained cry, white hot pleasure that exploded behind your eyelids. 

He made sure to rinse you for all you were worth, until you were writhing out of his grip, your grasp on his hair easing and then he was jumping to his feet, his mouth suddenly on yours with a grunt, kissing you like crazy. You couldn’t tell who was out of breath more.

“Tonight.” He announced ferociously. “Tonight. Please come over and let me fuck you.” 

You moaned at the thought, your tongues turning messy as you tried to concentrate and form words. “My place. I live alone. We can be as loud as we like.” 

.

.

Five minutes later you were back in your tights, knees wobbling together as you tried to slip into your shoe. There wasn’t time for more chitchat – or kissing, you needed to get back to the office before someone came looking for you both. 

“So does that mean you forgive me over Rosal & Steinar?” Seokjin asked curiously, still fairly out of breath. He’d wiped his mouth now, in attempt to clean himself up, but his bangs were slightly kinked, forehead shiny and his cheeks were very much still red. 

You turned to him and smirked. “Another orgasm and maybe.” 

He chuckled. “I’m positive that can be arranged.” You didn’t doubt it. “No, but really,” he carried on, taking you by surprise when he clasped your hand, rooting you to the spot. “You know I had to do it, right? I felt terrible but there weren’t many options.” 

His eyes pooled with sincerity and you found yourself softening, growing touched. It was nice to know he hadn’t done it out of spite – although why he would have seemed pretty ludicrous to believe now… No, you’d just been bitter. 

“I know, Seokjin,” you smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve forgotten about it.” He looked a little sceptical. “I forgive you,” you insisted with a laugh. It was either he closed the deal or they found another company… They were legitimately the only two options. You got it. 

He returned your smile, finally accepting your reassurance, and you tugged at his hand, opening the storeroom door. You needed to leave. Now. 

But –

Turning back at him over your shoulder, you shot him a playful grin. “Doesn’t mean I won’t steal them back next year though.” 

His eyes widened in surprise before they lit up, his laughter loud down the empty hallway.

“Game on, baby.”

.

.

“Do I look acceptable?” 

You and Seokjin were mere inches from the door leading into the office, your whispers nervous as you hesitated about going inside. You needed to get your best lying face on. ASAP.

“Hang on,” you said, reaching up to adjust his Santa’s hat. The flush on his face had paled, thankfully. “There we go. What about me?”

“Hm.” He pondered, cupping your face to stare down at you, worrying you actually. “I still think we look like we were giving mad head in the storeroom.” 

“Stop,” you groaned, pulling away from him as you realised he was only teasing. You were still pretty sticky downstairs, but you were sure you looked visibly presentable. “You’re going to make it obvious.” 

Finally plucking up the courage, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, Seokjin following. Your Christmas playlist grew louder instantly and of course, the first person you saw was Jungkook, ass perched on your desk for some reason, snacking on a bowl of olives. He popped them like they were grapes. He better not have dripped olive oil over your keyboard, you’d kill him. 

“Ah, look who turned up to their own party,” he exclaimed, standing up. He dropped the bowl right next to your desktop and wiped his fingers into his jeans, striding towards you both. 

You took a deep breath and went for that Oscar. “Blame Seokjin,” you fumed. 

“Where the hell did you disappear to?” He laughed, directing his question to Seokjin who stood behind you still. 

“I, uh... I...” 

You rolled your eyes inwardly. If he fucked this up, well then, he wasn’t fucking you tonight…

“I went to grab a cake.” 

A fucking cake. He’d walked in empty handed. Great white lie there, Seokjin… 

Jungkook looked back and forth between you, his face contorting in confusion. “So... Where is the cake?” 

“Uh.” 

You needed to save this idiot. “Dummy forgot to order it,” you sneered, walking past Jungkook to grab the bowl of olives. 

“Hey,” Seokjin exclaimed, sounding way too offended for it to be acting, just as Jungkook burst into laughter. You didn’t know what Seokjin expected, he’d walked straight into that one. 

“I really thought she’d killed you,” Jungkook told his friend, whacking his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widened in warning, a hand coming out to karate slice the younger guy’s neck. 

“I went easy on him,” you grinned, stopping them before they started wrestling for real. “– Y’know, Christmas spirit and all that.” 

That caught Seokjin’s attention. You looked at one another properly for the first time since you’d stepped inside. Eyebrows raised he looked entertained. “You went easy on me?” 

“Yup,” you nodded, unable to hide your smirk.

His expression changed for a split second, a glimmer in his eyes that made you mildly feverish at the thought of him getting his hands on you later on. 

“Duly noted,” was all he replied, and you shared a smile before Jungkook interrupted. 

“I saved you both some food. Come on,” he motioned with his hand. 

“Thanks, JK,” Seokjin bellowed, clapping his back. 

You followed behind them, nerves easing up. “Yeah, thanks, Jungkook.” 

.

.

If anything, Seokjin was the one who got grilled the most during the rest of the party, he had been the one to disappear after all, so it was fun watching him squirm as Hoseok demanded answers. He looked a right fool for “forgetting” to order a cake, but he’d brought it all on himself so you couldn’t feel too sorry for him… 

He was also risking a lot when he felt up your ass as you were finding his stupid Secret Santa gift in your desk drawer, ready to exchange with everyone. You straightened up immediately, pushing his hand away just in case anyone noticed – Mina was literally a desk away from you, although she was too busy giggling at Jungkook who was acting up on the karaoke machine to notice anything. 

Seokjin winked as you glared at him. “Can’t wait for tonight.” 

You pointed your index finger between his eyes. “Behave or I’ll cancel.” 

But, you both knew you were just talking shit… 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[dykeyote]

AUTISM N OCD JEDDIE HCS 👀 <- normal about him

YES YES YES YES YES I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK ABOUT THOSE ..... >:))

okay starting with autism . there is NO WAY IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD that fucker doesnt have a special interest on video games theres just no way . i think hes had a spinterest on the medium broadly for SEVERAL years but it yas like . Subhyperfocuses on specific games and series which shifts a lot . for example it was skyrim in college and hes had an on again off again special interest on sonic for most of his life . also he has a special interest in math because i do too and i get to hashtag project

hes VERY much undiagnosed i think . i think he RELATES to a lot of the things sydney experiences and the autistic traits he has but because he doesnt relate to Everything both because autism demonstrates differently in everyone plus sydney has more immediate support needs as well as other disorders and disabilities he kinda is like . ok so im not autistic bc im not exactly like sydney . i think he has some internalized ableism to work thru

i think he stims by pacing his office a lot (: he also flutters his hands when hes nervous or excited and i think he finds clicking his tongue in time with the clocks in his office to be a relaxing stim for when hes upset. he also claps his hands when hes happy and rocks back and forth a lot ESPECIALLY when hes in an infodump

i think she scripts a good deal like she has Specific Phrases that she relies on for hard social interactions . a canon one being the phrase Untenable Circumstances . he doesnt script Whole Interactions but i think for stressful things or abrupt changes she has specific little scripts like for the opposite day ep scripting is a backup plan for him in times of distress

i think that understanding that shes autistic and undoing a lot of her internalized ableism actually helps her and sydney become a lot closer and have tehir relationship be a lot better (: they r autistic4autistic and it deepens their love for each other because of the way they understand each other on a deeper level <3 love wins

using discussing COMORBIDITY as a good segue between ocd and autism here . i think he is DEEPLY DEEPLY reliant on a routine she cant handle large changes theyre really upsetting for him they tend to lash out with frustration which they then feel badly about bc its not like hes actually Angry hes just panicking . this is another thing about the opposite day ep that was SOO autsim coded

okay so now ocd stuff IN PARTICULAR . i think a common loop he gets stuck in is just . staring at his clocks until it hits a SPECIFIC certain time like 11:11 or 12:24 or 10:01 or something like that and if he blinks when it hit that time he has to start over again with a NEW time on the dot . he gets stuck like that a lot ESPECIALLY when hes anxious a good bit of the time he spends locked in his office is just him staring at his clocks . tangentially i do think that her ocd gets SIGNIFICANTLY worse when she does her avoidant thing i think its a self feeding cycle where the mor she avoids the worse her symptoms are and vice versa . seek therapy miss martin <3 

ALSO . THIS IS A THING THATS CONSISTENT IN HIS ARC ITS A MAJOR PART OF WHY HES MY BIGGEST OCD HC . HE HAS THE OCD GUILT . like he gets that feeling where you get so obsessed with ur own guilt that you engage in compulsions to ease it or obsessively resolve it somehow in ways that are totally unhelpful or Alternatively obsessively avoid it hes got that going on to EXTREME DEGREES and i think it would influence the way she acts in the show

i think sydney knows a lot of jedidiahs rituals and tries to make them a little easier on him . small things that he doesnt usually bring up to her but if shes staring at the clock he wont interrupt her until she finishes UNLESS shes been staring at the clocks for hours in which case hell try and distract her a little bit (:

i think she used to have a LOT of religious obsessions when he was younger but theyve gone away a bit now that hes less entrenched in christianity . like he strikes me as the type who used to have a lot of religious morality obsessions as a kid but as he grew up those morality obsessions sorta Changed Shape and became more along the lines of just plain guilt obsession like i mentioned about earlier

once more projecting my ocd obsessions . jeddy has a BIG fear of immobility she jerks her hands and her arms around sometimes just to check that he still can move about freely its a very big fear of hers . she has a har dtime falling asleep sometimes because she keeps doing liil checks that her bodys still moving . sydney snuggling with her is a good distraction and grounding though (: 

SORRY I WENT ON A WHOLE RAMBLE . I AM INSANE ABOUT HIM