#for this project i have been practicing my pacing/tone and i have tried really hard to make the things i include seem intentional

[stinkrascal]

the mnt pass song in baldurs gate is on..........time to focus

[haechanniesunflowers]

Ateez reaction to you being hurt

notes: I'm feeling angsty today

Seonghwa

He had a hard day, practicing for hours on end for Ateez's 10th year anniversary concert. He wanted to get home and pour his heart out in front of you and just spend time with you. But he came home and you weren't there much to his dismay, but he waited for you. It was raining heavily. He called you again and again but you weren't answering making him anxious and adding to his frustration. Three hours later, the rain still hadn't stopped and he was scared and furious. The bell rang and Seonghwa opened the door. You stood there, completely drenched in the rain. He stepped aside to let you in. You walked inside and got to the living room when he pulled you by your arm to make you face him.

"where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering your damn phone?" he tone was harsh.

"Seonghwa please, not now I-"

"no we need to talk about this now! answer me! Do you know how worried I was? And I was already frustrated to begin with!"

You lowered your head and let the tears spill but it seemed like the rain water was dripping down your face.

He shook you arm to pull you, making you lift your face and roughly pull out of his grasp. That's when he saw the tears.

"I had a bad day too! Okay? My awful coworkers took credit for my project that I worked so hard on! And on top of that I locked the car with the keys, my wallet and phone inside! And I had to walk home because I didn't have any money for a bus or a cab! There! Got your answer!"

Seonghwa's eyes softened at your words and he tried hugging you but you pulled back.

"no I'm not in the mood and I'm drenched"

You went to your room and locked yourself in the bathroom to cry in the shower.

Hongjoong

The track he was working on was almost ready and he wanted you to be the first person to hear it so he called you to invite you over to his studio.

"hey babe what are you doing?"

"nothing much Joong. What's up"

"can you come over in the evening? I want you to listen to my song"

There was a pause from your end.

"hello? Baby can you hear me?"

"ye-ah Joongie. I'm busy these days, I'm so sorry. I'll try to come after the next week."

"no that's okay, you don't need to put your work aside. I'm free today since I finished the song, I'll come over. How does that sound?"

"I'll tell you in a few hours, okay?"

Hongjoong felt something was off so he quickly got done with his files and saved the track and packed up. He drove straight to your apartment and knocked on the door. You didn't expect to see Hongjoong at the door so you hid behind the door after opening it. He eyed you suspiciously.

"are you okay?" he asked, pushing the door slightly to get inside.

"yeah why do you ask?" you spoke nonchalantly, standing in the akimbo pose.

"you're acting... unusual"

"nonsense"

He slid it aside and took you towards your bedroom. He found it unusual how you were walking slowly and stopped.

"you're hurt." he stated and his suspicion was confirmed when you didn't answer.

"I slipped and sprained my ankle. I didn't want you to worry so I didn't tell you and I didn't agree to meet you"

He picked you up and laid you on the couch, snuggling next to you.

"I'm here to take care of you" he whispered and turned the TV on.

Yunho

Yunho is always in a good mood when he gets to see you. He wants to make the best use of the time he gets to spend with you. So during his break, you guys went to his home town to meet his parents but you stayed in a hotel even though he insisted that you stayed at his house. But you were a woman of principles and didn't think it was appropriate to stay at your boyfriend's house before marriage. He came to pick you up in his car and took you to an amusement park. You guys took roller-coaster rides and other scary looking rides too. He asked if you wanted to eat something and proposed the idea of going to a restaurant but you you told him that hotdogs from the vendors in the park would be nice and that you wanted to stay there longer and get on more rides. After eating you two took that discovery ride. While getting off you felt a little dizzy and tripped on something and fell. Yunho quickly helped you up and asked if you were okay and you told him yes, even though your ankle hurt a lot. After the fun time, he drove you back to your hotel. As you got off, you winced in pain and knelt to the ground, clutching your ankle. He worriedly got out the car and came to your side.

"your ankle is swollen" he spoke, concerned.

"it's fine, I can manage"

"are you kidding me? Why didn't you tell me you're hurt?"

"because I didn't want to ruin tee date"

"you can't stay here y/n, you're coming out with me"

"I said it's okay Yunho, I'll take painkillers and an ice pack, I'll be fine"

"I'm sorry you got hurt"

"you don't need to be sorry babe" you said and kissed him.

Yeosang

Yeosang wanted to go skateboarding with you but you didn't know how to ride a skate so he took it upon himself to teach you even though you gave the idea of him skating and you cycling next to him but he said no. He took you to a nearby park and helped you learn for over a month. When he deemed you ready, he encouraged you to ride it on your own with him holding your hands or your waist. You took a deep breath.

"you can do this" he smiled.

"I hope so" you replied and steadied yourself.

"I can already see us skateboarding down the road. I can't wait"

"okay here goes nothing"

You gained momentum with your foot pushing the board forward and continued with a steady pace.

"I'm doing it! Yeosang I'm doing it!" you cheered but made the mistake of looking back towards him which made you lose your balance since you were relatively new to this. You fell on your back but broke your fall with your arm.

Yeosang rushed towards you and helped you up. You yelped in paid when he grabbed your arm.

"it hurts so much" you shook.

He took you to a hospital where the doctor told you your wrist was dislocated.

He felt awful and blamed it on himself. He stayed by your side before and after your surgery and even helped you with your daily life stuff until you got better. You were happy to spend a lot of time with him and told him it wasn't his fault.

"you are never riding a skateboard again. Like ever."

San

You were visiting Namhae to meet San's family. He always talked about them and told you how important they were to him so you paid them a visit, knowing it would make San the happiest.

You were sat on the couch, chatting with his sister while the TV was on. It was a random drama which none of you were interested in, rather wanting to talk about girl stuff.

"Sannie is a sensitive one, though he doesn't show it" his sister let you know.

"I know, I have never seen him cry. I used to think he doesn't care but then I found out that he's just very good at controlling his emotions."

You two were indulged in the conversation and didn't see San entering the room with Byeol in his arms.

"Y/N I want you to meet our family's master"

You and his sister giggled.

"Byeol, this is Y/N. I hope you come to terms with the fact that your position as the girl I'd die for has been taken by her."

You were a blushing mess and had butterflies in your stomach. San was always kind and loving towards you. And as if Byeol had understood what San had said, she started acting up.

"can I pet her?" you asked, earning encouraging nods from the Choi siblings. You stretched your hand you gently pet her head but Byeol acted first and violently scratched your hand, drawing blood.

"Byeol no!" San whined as the cat hissed at you and ran to the other room.

You clutched your hand tightly, trying to soothe the pain but it came in waves and burned. San worriedly came closer to you and him and his sister examined your hand. There was definitely blood coming out of the claw marks. They had to take you to the hospital to get you tetanus shots.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, your hand is ruined and you're in pain because of me"

"not because of you Sannie, it was Byeol but you can't really blame her, she an animal after all"

Mingi

Mingi took you to the dance studio to show you the new dance he choreographed. He was happy with it and spent a lot of time perfecting it and wanted you to see it. You were supportive of his ambitions as a rapper and a dancer, aside from Ateez. He was grateful for you for being by his side and understanding the time and effort it required. You never complained when he was unable to make time for you sometimes, knowing that he was working hard. The bond you shared was strong and you two were inseparable.

"okay I'm gonna start, queue the music"

And with that he started dancing. You were in awe of the way his body moved and how effortlessly he executed the difficult moves. You clapped when he finished.

"wow Mingi... this is... wow... I'm so proud" you were at a loss of words.

"come on I'll teach you the floor move, it's the easiest"

It was the easiest, for a trained dancer that is. You both didn't realize how difficult it actually was. You, because you weren't a dancer and Mingi made it look like a piece of cake. Mingi, because it came naturally to him and he had insane body control so he thought it was actually easy.

He taught you how to slide using your core strength. You didn't have a strong core to begin with, so you landed on your knee and pain shot up in your leg. You clutched it and let out a whine. Mingi took a look at it saw it reddening.

"I'm sorry for making you do this" he shook his head.

"nah I shouldn't have said yes" you smiled, not wanting him to be upset.

"let's get you home"

Wooyoung

He kept his artist of the month news a secret from you. He wanted to surprise you with it. So when you saw it on twitter you called him and congratulated him.

"this is huge Woo, I'm so proud of you!"

"I know you're rooting for me. I want you to come at the practice session we're having, just so we can perform on stage too"

You agreed to come and dressed up for him. When he saw you enter the studio in your black jeans that hugged your curves and the loose green cardigan which you styled and tucked in from the front. You had your hair down and mere sight of you took Wooyoung's breath away. His dancer friend from bb trippin' knew about your relationship but some of the staff was different that day and didn't know who you were.

Your eyes gleaned, watching Wooyoung dance. He was in his element and looked ethereal. The practice session ended and before you could run to him and hug him, you saw another woman, a staff member get close to him, handing him a water bottle and wiping his sweat off with a cloth. You were stunned but didn't think muhh about it, since his job required him to be around other women too. You watched from a distance how she talked to him for some time and subtly placed a hand on his thigh, giggling and telling him he did well. You were hurt to say the least. He didn't spare you a glance and then talked to her as if you weren't in the room. You didn't ruin the mood for him at the moment but were screaming internally watching her flirt with your man in broad daylight and him going along with him.

After the session ended, his choreographer called him to discuss important matters with him and the staff started leaving. You noticed how the same woman was hanging around, until another senior staff member told her to pack up and leave. After the discussion, Wooyoung came running to you.

"did you like it?" he asked excitedly.

"the performance? yes. The little show with that staff woman? absolutely not"

His face fell at your words.

"baby listen, I had to let it slide. It's not like I could've swat her hands away and tell her to go away. Having good chemistry with the staff results in good performances. Please try to understand"

"I don't know Wooyoung. And this is just what I saw. I can't stop imagining what else goes on since I'm not around all the time"

"I want you to trust me. I'm all yours. No one can take me away from you. No one. You don't know the hold you have around my heart. You don't know what you do to me. It's you and only you. Never forget that."

Jongho

If there's one thing in this world that Jongho liked doing the most, it was comparing how strong he was compared to you. No, you didn't even compare. You didn't even come close. He loved lifting you like it was nothing, tightening jars on purpose so you would ask him to open them for you and lifting the furniture with one hand while you both cleaned. He also loved arm wrestling with you with just two of his fingers of his non dominant hand, while you struggled to win with your dominant hand.

You both sat in the middle of the living room. Jongho challenged you to arm wrestling and the loser would have to clean the dishes. He wasn't even trying while you were shaking by using the entire strength in your arm. He got a little cocky when his hand got tired and decided to end it with a bang. He used intense force and your hand landed on the table with a thud. You pulled it back and rubbed it. He didn't fully realize how hard he hurt you until he saw just how red the back of your hand was. He immediately apologized but you got up to give yourself first aid, not responding to him. He followed you to the kitchen and tried helping but you shoved him aside.

"leave me alone"

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Let me help"

"Jongho please just leave me alone right now"

He felt awful to have hurt you and after you went to your bedroom, he did the dishes. You had invited him to stay the night at your apartment so he was glad he could be around to make it up to you.

He came to you some time later and apologized again and took responsibility of his actions.

"you scared me Jongho"

"I'm so sorry, I'll be more careful I promise"

[writinglizards]

someone wanted us to kiss for a picture and i thought you were gonna stage kiss me w/ your thumbs in the middle buT NO OH MY GOD THATS……………..THATS A REAL KISS WOW OK au -- another writing prompt I lost the link to 💖

Okay, so this got WAY out of hand, but here you go! <3

Title: A Portrait of the Artist in Love

Summary:  Jaskier's senior exhibition requires he present a sequence of cohesive photos representing a theme of his choosing. Geralt, after seeing the photos in person, notices one's missing.

Read on Ao3

"So what's the matter?" Geralt finally asks when Jaskier stomps through the living room for the third time in under twenty minutes, his eyes still firmly trained on the tv set. He can't look like he cares too much or Jaskier will shut down on him, he knows.

"What's the matter is I've got my senior exhibition in two months and I still haven't settled on a fucking theme, that's the matter," he bites out, back to the sofa and hands threaded firmly through his hair, tugging hard.

Geralt sighs. All of Jaskier's problems seem to circle back to his senior exhibition. "I thought you had some photos?"

"I did," he says, tone venomous, "and then Valdo decided he was going to do a series on music and I refuse to compete with that pompous arse." Geralt bites his tongue against the 'why does what Valdo's doing matter?' He knows better.

"So? What are your ideas?" Jaskier shifts as if to speak, "and don't tell me you don't have any, I know you do." He clicks the tv off and shifts around to face Jaskier's back as he sighs, shoulders going slack.

"I want to do something personal," he says, and Geralt can hear the frustration in his voice, "something important. Not--" he can picture the way his face is scrunched up just from his tone, "--not something predictable, something trite. I want to do something meaningful."

"Okay. So make it personal. What's important to you, Jaskier?" he asks, voice soft, and watches as Jaskier's shoulders gradually go taunt again.

"Oh. Oh I could--" he cuts off, whirls around, and the nearly manic light in his eyes makes Geralt smile.

"There you go," he says, and Jaskier beams. The look on his face steals Geralt’s breath, tightens his chest. Jaskier crosses the room, headed for his bedroom slash photo studio and presumably his camera, but he pauses at the couch to squeeze Geralt's shoulder tightly.

"Thank you, darling." Geralt just rolls his eyes and clicks the tv back on.

* * * *

Jaskier never does share what idea he settled on, even after Geralt had asked, a few days later. He'd ducked his head, blushing, and told Geralt not to worry about it, it was fine, he'd get to see when it was done, and Geralt had let it go. Jaskier tends to hold his projects close to his chest until he's done with them anyway. It’s not personal.

They're seated at a cafe waiting for Yen to drop off Ciri for their afternoon trip to the zoo and Jaskier is, predicably, fiddling with his camera.

"Do you have to bring that everywhere?" he asks, tone light and teasing, and Jaskier only sticks his tongue out at him.

"Yes, you oaf, I do. I'm working," he snips, and then he lifts the camera and in a quick movement snaps a picture of Geralt's face.

"Jaskier."

"Just a test photo, love," he grins, not at all apologetic. Before Geralt can pitch anything close to a fit about Jaskier taking more photos of him (and out in public, no less), Yen and Ciri are stepping through the door. Ciri gives a delighted little shriek the way only children under five seem to do and throws herself at her father. Geralt catches her around the waist and hauls her into his lap, both of them laughing, and the photo is promptly forgotten about after that.

* * * *

"Can I come with you?"

"Why?" Geralt asks again, frowning at Jaskier where he stands next to their couch, shifting nervously with his camera clutched to his chest, "you don't like the barn."

"No, but I like Roach," he insists, "and I want to get some pictures of her. I haven't in a while." Geralt narrows his eyes.

"Is this about your project?" he asks, and the way Jaskier splutters is answer enough.

"Can't I just want to take nice photos of my best friend's lovely horse? Come on Geralt, I don't always have a reason." The color high on his cheeks says otherwise.

"Hm." He hefts his supply bag over his shoulder, "come on, then."

Jaskier practically beams the entire trip to the barn, even after he nearly slips in a spot of mud when they get there. His pure, simple joy is infectious, leaves Geralt grinning right alongside him. And if Jaskier takes pictures of him the entire time? Well, he's always taking pictures anyway.

* * * *

"Jask, my guy, must you always bring that stupid camera?" Lambert asks, "it's beer night," he says, as if beer should preclude Jaskier taking pictures.

"Yes, and? Your point?" He raises the camera to snap a blatant picture of Lambert. Aiden leans over to throw up a pair of bunny ears behind his boyfriend as if they're primary schoolers. Eskel laughs.

"Jaskier's exhibition's coming up, leave off," Geralt growls, reprimanding, and Jaskier grins all the brighter.

"Yes, thank you, darling!"

"Doesn't mean he needs to take pictures of us," Lambert grouches, but Aiden wraps his arm around his neck and pulls him into a gentle headlock.

"Be nice," Aiden admonishes, and Lambert grumbles, but subsides. After enough alcohol, no one really thinks about Jaskier's pictures.

* * * *

Catching Jaskier around their apartment snapping photos isn't strictly unusual. It's not even strictly unusual for Jaskier to be snapping photos of him, but--

"Must you take pictures while I'm trying to meditate?"

"Yeah," Jaskier answers, sunny and quick. Geralt gives a huff. The camera clicks again. "Just pretend I'm not here." Geralt hums an affirmative even though he knows it's an impossible task. He could never forget Jaskier was in a room with him.

* * * *

"Didn't know you were picking me up today," Geralt says, wandering over from his post by the medieval art exhibit to where Jaskier stands near the circulation desk, fiddling with his camera.

"Oh, well, you know," he grins brightly up at him, cheeks a little pink--maybe he's getting sick, "I was in the area and thought we could walk home together. I know you’ve got a little still but I can swing by Starbucks; I'll get you that fruity tea you like."

"Hm."

When he gets off his shift forty-five minutes later, Jaskier's waiting for him out front with the Starbucks already in hand, a radiant smile on his face, and Geralt’s chest clenches just looking at him.

* * * *

"Hey, so I know you're busy--" Jaskier starts over dinner one night, eyes focused down on his pasta, "and I don't know if you wanted to come or not, but the exhibition's next week and I--" he sneaks a glance up at Geralt from under his eyelashes, ducks his head, "--I'd like for you to be there."

Geralt can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, can't help the way affection swells in his chest. "Of course I'll go, Jask." It really is as simple as that.

* * * *

Geralt arrives in the midst of the opening hubbub. He knows Jaskier has to linger around his exhibit for at least the first hour or so and from what he understands it's tucked away somewhere toward the back, so Geralt takes a leisurely path in that general direction, stopping to look at the work Jaskier's classmates have done as he goes.

"Oh, Geralt!" Valdo's grinning as he waves him over and reluctantly he lets himself be lured in. "Good to see you here, my man. Jaskier's been a basketcase all day," he winks. Geralt rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure. Your work's good," he says, nodding back towards the row of photos behind them, all different instruments either alone or being played, the close up of hands on strings and keys.

"Don't let Jask hear you say that," he laughs, even as he preens at the praise. "And don't let him catch you over here, either. He'll be accusing infidelity in a heartbeat." Valdo winks again. Geralt doesn't even go to the effort of correcting the fact they're not together. Valdo never seems to remember anyway.

"Yeah. Have a good night, Valdo," he says before ducking out of the way of a shorter blonde woman who throws herself past him and into Valdo's arms, proclaiming her love for him and his photography. Another blonde follows behind her friend, smiling. Geralt hurries away before Priscilla and Essi can realize who Valdo had been talking to and rope him back into the conversation.

It's not that he dislikes Jaskier's friends it's just...they seem to assume things about the two of them. Yes, Geralt loves Jaskier, but Jaskier…he doesn’t know what Jaskier feels for him beyond a deep friendship.

He wanders a bit while he tries not to think about that, stopping to look at some of the other photos--landscapes, pets, significant others, children--until he spots Jaskier, all done up in the suit he'd picked out for the occasion months ago, the gold tie that Geralt had done for him this morning a beautiful contrast to the baby blue of his suit. And the pictures--

Geralt's breath catches. They're all of him; a photo of Geralt and Ciri from the zoo, Ciri seated on his shoulders, one tiny fist in his hair as she gestures wildly at the monkeys. Geralt astride Roach as he puts her through her paces at the barn, and later, Roach out in the pasture, Geralt leading her in a gentle cool down, the both of them in profile. Geralt and his brothers over beers, Geralt grinning, Eskel telling a story, hands spread wide, Lambert and Aiden leaning on each other across the table, smiles indulgent. Geralt meditating in their living room, the ghost of a smile on his face. Geralt at the museum, explaining the history of medieval art to a gaggle of tourists.

They're all him.

"Oh, thank fuck, Geralt, I--" Jaskier breaks off as he gets closer, takes in Geralt's expression, "Geralt?"

His mouth is dry and he has to clear his throat twice before he can get any words to work. "They're all of...me?" Jaskier flushes immediately.

"Well I mean--yes? I wanted it to be something important and personal and, uh, what's more personal than everything my best friend loves?" he explains rapidly, as if he's worried Geralt will cut him off, not let him explain.

"Oh," he says, because it's the only thing he can get out. And then as it dawns on him, "wait, if this is about--" he has to clear his throat again, uncharacteristically embarrassed, "--about what I love...why aren't you in any of them?"

"What, I--" Jaskier chokes off, that flush going a little darker, "I, I didn't--we weren't allowed to be the subjects of our own photos," he lies, and Geralt just raises a brow. He's seen his classmate's work--he knows it's a bullshit answer and Jaskier knows he knows.

"I didn't want to presume," he mumbles, then, a little firmer, "and it would have had to been staged. "I don't--staged photos are terrible, Geralt, you know how I feel about that." He does, but it doesn't change the fact Jaskier's collection is incomplete without him.

"Hm."

* * * *

He thinks about it for the rest of the exhibition and once he starts, it's like he can't stop. Jaskier has a collection of photos of things Geralt loves, and Jaskier's not in any of them.

It takes him almost a week to set it right.

"Geralt," Jaskier calls as the front door clicks open, Jaskier home from class. "Geralt darling, I'm famished, what--" he cuts off abruptly when he steps into the living room, gaze catching on the camera set on the tripod set up on the coffee table. Geralt stands in front of the lens, between the camera and the large bay window overlooking the distant park.

"Jaskier." Geralt's a little bit of a nervous wreck about it, but it's fine. Probably. After all, Jaskier spent months taking photos of Geralt and the things he loved. What's one more?

"Geralt, what--"

"Come here." Jaskier swallows roughly, adams apple bobbing, before he puts his bag down and steps up beside him. "Check the camera," Geralt says softly, "make sure I did it right."

Jaskier does, quick. "It's set on the ten second timer. Should I--?"

"Yeah," he says, stomach clenching in some horrible mix of fear and anticipation, "and come here."

"Geralt, if you'd wanted to take a picture together, I could have--" he says, setting the camera and starting over. He cuts off abruptly when Geralt loops an arm around his waist and tugs him in close until they're chest to chest, his other hand at Jaskier's jaw, thumb sweeping back and forth across his cheek.

"I know," he says, voice pitched low, "but you're missing a picture." And then he dips his head and kisses him.

Jaskier makes a small, wounded noise and then his arms are around Geralt's neck, fingers tight in his hair as he presses up into Geralt's grip, surges against him. Geralt cups his jaw and nips at his lower lip, revels in the quiet gasp that leaves Jaskier open for him to lick into his mouth, deepen the kiss. Distantly he's aware of the camera going off, but it's inconsequential to the way Jaskier feels in his arms.

The kiss only breaks when Jaskier pulls away to hide his face in Geralt's throat, gasping for air. Geralt chuckles, a little breathless.

"Now I'm not complaining," Jaskier says, sounding a little dazed, "but what did I do to deserve that? Because I'd like to keep doing it. Repeatedly, if possible." Geralt laughs.

"You were missing a picture," Geralt says again, and the look on Jaskier's face when he pulls back is so confused it makes his chest constrict. "The things I love," Geralt reminds, and Jaskier flushes bright red.

"Geralt--" he stammers out, flustered, before he returns to hiding his face in Geralt's shoulder. "Melitele help me," He presses his lips to the fabric of Geralt's shirt, a warm, fleeting pressure, "you really are going to be the death of me."

"Don't see how," he hums, tips his head to rest his cheek against Jaskier's head.

"Thought you wanted a friendly picture and then you just--! You just wrapped your arm around my waist like you've done it a hundred times before and I thought, oh, he's going to pretend to kiss me, for the photo, because of course you would and you, you just--" he makes a tiny, outraged noise. Geralt chuckles again. "Don't laugh at me, Geralt, I almost died."

"Mmhm," he rubs his cheek where it rests, mussing Jaskier's hair. Jaskier just huffs. "How'd the picture come out?"

Reluctantly, Jaskier peels himself away to check the photo, and Geralt can already tell from the face he's making it didn't come out well. "You moved," Jaskier admonishes, eyes glued to the tiny viewer. He fiddles with a few settings before putting it back down on the tripod. "Alright," he presses his way back into Geralt's arms, "we'll just have to try again."

"Yeah," Geralt grins, and he kisses him again.

[moldisgoodforyou]

you didn’t kiss her back

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of nsfw content, brooklyn :/

_____

In hindsight, he should have known. 

He should have known when Brooklyn texted him the group invite for dinner in a separate text thread, not the intern groupchat, but he was too busy with work that day to even question it. Just liked the message as his usual form of RSVP. 

He should have known when Brooklyn was ultra-polite to him at work that day, not adding any of her usual flirty comments or going out of her way to stroll by his desk. Instead, he was too caught up in work assignments and trying to figure out how late he could FaceTime Sophie that night without waking her up.

After the workday, Rafe was walking out to his car when Brooklyn jogged after him to catch up. “Hey, Rafe, wait up!” 

He grimaced but turned around - he’d learnt to just deal with her presence over time. “What?”

“Um, my car’s almost out of gas and I don’t think I’ll make it to the restaurant and be able to make it home. Would you be able to give me a ride?” She asked, almost shyly. 

Rafe calculated the drive time in his head. Eight minutes. “Uh...yeah. That’s fine.” He nodded shortly, then nodded his head in the direction of his car. 

Brooklyn gave him a grateful smile, matching his quick pace to the car. “How was work for you today?” 

“Fine.” Once he got in the car he dropped the act, just turning up the radio so they didn’t have to make more small talk. Just being near her made him feel on edge - the same way he often felt around his father. She reached out to touch his arm and he flinched away, making her giggle. “Someone’s tense.” 

“Can you not?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Touchy.” 

“I’m trying to be civil here.” He remarked. 

“Hm.” She let him sit in silence for a solid half minute, then spoke up again. “I saw Sophia posted some picture of her wearing a Cartier ring on her Instagram. Did you pay for that?” Brooklyn pushed, sounding almost nervous. 

Rafe shrugged. “So what if I did?” 

“You never bought me designer.” She glanced at her nails, trying to appear nonchalant. 

He snorted. “You can buy yourself designer things just fine. We both know that.” 

“Not the same.” She mumbled, then opened her mouth only to let out a sigh. “It’s just - never mind.”

He looked over with an annoyed glance, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “What.” 

“Surely your dad doesn’t approve?” 

Rafe tensed and she resisted a smile, knowing she had struck a nerve. Exactly what she wanted. “Since when have I cared about my dad’s approval?” 

He might have gotten away with that with someone else, but Brooklyn could read him well. Too well. She’d seen him deal with his dad’s disappointment only a few times, - Ward was always on his best behavior whenever she was around, the model of a perfect parent. 

Brooklyn laughed at that, shaking her head. “You’ve always cared about his approval, I find it hard to believe that’s changed in just a few months with some girl.” 

“Eight months.” He corrected, his jaw clenched tight. “And you know her name. Don’t be rude.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Sophia or something. I just don’t get it.” 

“It’s Sophie. Still. And good thing there’s nothing you need to get about my relationship.” His knuckles were nearly white around the steering wheel as he pulled into the small parking lot, then glanced around with a frown. “Where’s the other interns? Shouldn’t they be here by now?” 

“Oh.” She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “I just sent the invite to you. You didn’t notice?” 

He hadn’t, of course, but he wasn’t about to let her know that. He parked the car and turned it off, looking over at her with a confused expression. “What?” 

“I didn’t send it in the group message, Rafe, I thought we could go out, um, with just us.” She gave him a small, earnest smile. “Like old times.” 

He grimaced, closing his eyes for a second and taking a breath. “Are you forgetting that you broke up with me?” 

“I mean - Rafe, come on. We worked well together. We could at least be friends.” Her tone took on a pleading edge and she leaned in a little closer, her arm nearly touching his on the center console. 

“You made me feel like shit, Brooklyn.” He told her flatly, frowning. The last thing he wanted to do that day was rehash a conversation with his ex that they’d already had at least three times since breaking up. (The first was more akin to a drunken screaming match that ended in tears for both of them, the second was just bitter insults hurled back and forth, and the third was as short as possible, on the campus quad in between classes.) 

“I just wanted to help you.” She murmured, then suddenly leaned over and kissed him quickly. He was so taken aback that it took him a second to spring back, eyes wide. “Brooklyn! What the hell!” 

She blushed, embarrassed as she started stammering. “I didn’t mean - I wasn’t thinking -” 

“Fuck.” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and shuddered, looking disgusted. “Get out.” 

She sat there for a moment longer, not looking at him. Her voice grew impossibly small and she picked at her cuticles, radiating anxious energy. “I didn’t drive.” 

“I don’t care. Get an Uber or something, get the fuck out.” Rafe was practically fuming as he glared out his window, not wanting to acknowledge her. 

“I - Rafe, I want -”

“Out.” He insisted. 

She nodded quickly and scrambled out of the car, casting a wayward glance back after walking away. Once he was sure she was around the corner, Rafe slammed his fist on the steering wheel. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more - throw up or go scrub his body clean of any trace of her. Brooklyn’s floral perfume lingered in the car and he felt nauseous, unable to think of anything but Sophie and how she’d react once she found out. 

After he took a few moments to center himself, absolutely livid, he punched the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot, repeatedly swiping his hand over his lips in an attempt to get Brooklyn’s signature cake batter-flavored lip gloss off. (The summer after the breakup, Wheezie had started wearing a vanilla sugar perfume that smelled all too similar - Rafe had a headache for weeks.) He drove to a nearby park and sat out by the water to get away from the overwhelming perfume scent in his car, and his hand was nearly shaking as he hit the app to FaceTime Sophie, nervous as hell. 

She picked up right away, grinning once his face filled her screen. “Hi! It’s good to see you. I can’t talk long, I’m getting ready to go out, but what’s up?” 

“Um...” Rafe briefly debated bringing it up, anxiously pulling at a loose thread on his shorts. “Just checking in. How’s your day been?”

“Oh my god, so...” She launched into a ramble about a cool new project she was working on, and how she got to be with some of her new friends, and how she aced her Spanish test. He listened, a little impatient, as guilt ate at him.

“Soph -” He tried interrupting, knowing if he put it off any longer he’d make himself sick. 

She didn’t notice. “And it’s kind of tricky -”

“Baby, listen.” 

“- But it’ll be really rewarding -”

“Brooklyn kissed me.” He blurted out quickly.

She froze immediately, eyes wide with her lipstick raised halfway to her mouth. “She did what?” 

He bit his cheek hard before replying, his heart pounding. “I’m so sorry, Sophie, I didn’t - I should have known, her stupid dinner invite -” 

“Rafe, shut the fuck up, why are you apologizing? You didn’t kiss her back.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of trust, but he almost flinched from the hard edge to her voice.

He shook his head frantically. “No! No, of course I didn’t. Fuck. She barely even touched my lips before I pulled away.” 

“Fucking hell.” She had to set her phone down as she was practically shaking with anger. “I knew it.” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew she was going to pull something, that - that -” She seethed, unable to get all her words out. 

“That…?” He tried supplying. 

“That bitch! Oh my god, what the hell? If I were there, I swear I’d - holy fuck. I’ve never wanted to punch someone until now.” She started pacing the room, flexing her fingers into fists. 

Rafe couldn’t hide his tiny smile, raising his eyebrows. “You’re kind of hot when you’re mad.” 

“Focus, Cameron.” She snapped. “Oh my god, she’s so fucking petty. First the Instagram messages, then this -”

“Wait, wait, hold on, what Instagram messages?” He interrupted, frowning. “What are you talking about?” 

“Oh.” She scowled, crossing her arms. “She followed me a couple weeks ago and went through and liked the posts that you’re in, and keeps responding to my stories. Like that group photo I posted the other day at the bar, some of the guys were in it? She literally responded with ‘wow, glad you’re getting some in Spain.’ What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Sophie, you should have told me.” He rubbed his temples, upset but completely unsurprised - Brooklyn had done that same to a friend he had taken to a date party once when they were in one of their many short breakups. “I’ll talk to her, tell her to knock it off -”

“And have her try and kiss you again? No, I don’t think you need to give her any reason to be one on one with you.” She huffed, indignant. “How many days again?” 

He paused to think. “Thirty? Twenty-nine?” 

“Jesus Christ.” She sighed, running her hand over her face. “Any chance you want to come early?” 

He looked apologetic, shaking his head. “Can’t, baby, I’m committed to this internship right up until I see you.” 

“Damnit.” She flopped back onto her bed and rolled over onto her stomach to face the camera again. “Next time you’re at dinner, let me know and I’ll text you a picture of my tits or something.” 

Rafe snorted. “I don’t know if that’s the best approach, but I wouldn’t be opposed to getting more nudes from you.” 

“No, you’re right, she’d probably just tell you I’m slutty or something.” She rolled her eyes, only for him to frown. “You’re not slutty, baby -” 

“I know, I know, whatever. What happened, seriously? Why’s she so hung up on you? I mean, I know why, look at you -” she gestured at the phone, making him laugh, “- but for real. Will you tell me?” 

He nodded, taking a moment before he spoke. “She, um, cheated on me, but I didn’t find out ‘til after she broke it off. Not until the charity gala, actually. She’d say things like, ‘you’re so needy,’ then would get mad at me if I went to hang out with the boys.” Rafe paused, thinking. “She invited herself to the Bahamas, both times. My dad loved her, that should have told me enough.” 

“Oh.” She murmured, frowning. “That’s fucked, Rafe, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, took me a while to snap out of it.” He half-joked, then his tone turned more sincere. “You should know, I was going to take you to the Bahamas house this spring, actually. But I didn’t want you to think I was showing off or something.” 

“Rafe Cameron, showing off?” She teased, lifting her hand with the Cartier ring and raising her eyebrows. “Never.” 

He immediately blushed, protesting. “That’s different!” 

She grinned. “Is it?” 

“It is. Totally different. I almost bought you the one with diamonds, that’d be showing off.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t.” 

“Yes, I almost did.” He grinned, noticing that she wore the ring on her ring finger instead of her middle finger like he’d originally put it on her. “Sarah talked me out of it, so go complain to her if you wanted that one. She said you’d probably have my head.” 

“Smart girl.” Sophie laughed. 

“Do you always wear it on that finger?” He asked with raised eyebrows. 

Her cheeks tinged pink and she shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but her tone took a defensive edge. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter. It’s just a finger. Why? Does it make you feel weird?” 

“No. Does it make you feel weird?” 

“No.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.” She shot back, pressing her hands to her hot cheeks for a moment. “I have to go, I’m late for meeting my friends now.” 

“Wait, Soph.” He smirked and she narrowed her eyes again, wary of what he was about to say. “What.” 

“Love you.” 

“That’s it?” 

He laughed, grinning. “I’m still not opposed to you sending me pictures of your tits when I’m at dinner.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how difficult it is to take a good nude? I have to be alone, I have to contort myself in a weird position or use the self timer, then I have to edit the lighting because I have to take them at night -” 

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m just kidding.” 

“You absolutely were not. I love you. Go appreciate the pictures I’ve already given you.” 

“You gave me three for the entire summer.” He complained, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s a lie, I left you with three and I’ve sent you a couple since then. Goodbye, Cameron, love you, you ungrateful son of a bitch.” 

He grinned. “Wait, Sophie, wait.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re not mad? At me?” 

Sophie paused, furrowing her brow. “Do I have a reason to be mad at you? You’re already forgiven for not telling me, is there something else?” 

“No, no.” He shook his head quickly, voice going quiet. “I just, um. She would have had my head for what happened. I know you’re not her, but I’m just used to that, I guess.” 

She softened, wishing she could hold him. “I trust you, Rafe. I mean it. I’m not mad at you. I’m pissed off at her, but you didn’t do anything.” 

“And you’d tell me if you were?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little anxious. 

Sophie laughed softly, nodding. “You’d know if I was mad at you, baby, it’s hard to hide.” 

“Right. Okay.” He didn’t seem fully convinced, but nodded anyways. “I’ll let you go, then.” 

“Not mad at you. Good night, my favorite boy.” 

He gave her a small, shy smile. “You promise?” 

“I promise. You’re always my favorite.” She returned a bigger smile. “I’ll text you when I’m home if you need to talk more.” 

“No, no, I’ll be fine.” He waved her off, not wanting to seem too dependent. 

She nodded, blowing him a kiss with a grin. “Night, baby. Sweet dreams.” 

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Test Run

Maru (Stardew) x They/Them Reader

A/N: Four down, two more bachelorettes to go! No warnings should be necessary but let me know if you think there is something I should mention. Hope y’all like this wild day! Word Count: 3,532

“Morning, (Y/n).” Robin greeted as soon as (Y/n) tromped through the door, wiping their feet off on the doormat before stepping fully inside.

“Morning, Robin!” (Y/n) waved. “Maru’s in, right?”

“She sure is. She��s tinkering in her room, head on back.”

“Thank you!” (Y/n) practically skipped as they made their way down the hall before quickly turning and detouring back at Robin’s desk, causing the woman to raise an inquisitive brow. “I almost forgot! I got you this,” (Y/n) ruffled around in their sack and produced a bag of peaches, handing the precious cargo to the eagerly awaiting carpenter.

“Thanks, kid! The fruits that come from your farm are to die for.” Robin praised, already digging into the bag for a fresh picked peach.

“Hey, I’m glad you like them!” (Y/n) beamed. “I’ve started growing strawberries in the greenhouse too as a surprise for Maru. Demetrius seems to be really looking forward to it too.”

“I’ll bet.” Robin laughed, “what else ya got there?”

“A carton of void eggs for Seb. Make sure he paces himself. I still don’t see the appeal of them beyond aesthetics.” (Y/n) said, placing the eggs on the desk.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Robin promised. “Better get moving now. Don’t want to keep my little engineer waiting now, do you?”

“Right! Thanks Robin!” (Y/n) hummed as they made their way to the back of the house. They knocked on the door and called out in a singsong tone, “Maruuu, I’m here!”

“Just a minute!” Maru called.

After some clattering and clanging, Maru’s door opened, the highly intelligent girl wasted no time pulling (Y/n) in before closing the door once more.

“I’m glad you could make it.” Maru said as she gave (Y/n) a warm hug.

“I can always make time for you,” (Y/n) glowed, “so what did you want to show me?”

“First, did you bring the batteries I asked for?” Maru asked.

“Oh yeah! Just a second,” (Y/n) dug into their sack once more and produced a large handful of batteries, “I couldn’t remember how many you needed, so I just brought a bunch.”

“Aw, (Y/n), I only needed two. You can keep the rest.” Maru said.

“Oh don’t worry about it. You always have a use for these things. It’s been storming a lot lately anyway so I’ve got plenty. Take ‘em, I insist.” (Y/n) pressed the batteries into Maru’s hand.

“You are too sweet.” Maru said, kissing (Y/n) on the cheek, leaving them a giggly, lovestruck mess as Maru walked past them to put the extra batteries away for later. “Now for the main event,” Maru turned back to (Y/n), her eyes gleamed behind her glasses.

“Oh boy! What is it?” (Y/n) bounced on their toes, excitedly waiting for their partner to reveal her newest invention.

Maru walked past her vast array of scrap metal and tools to grab an old shoe box that was sitting on top of the schematics that littered her desk. She popped the lid off and showed (Y/n) what laid inside.

“You made shoes? Neat! You are so talented, I wouldn’t even know where to start on a project like that.” (Y/n) praised.

“These aren’t just any shoes,” Maru explained, motioning (Y/n) to sit with her on the bed as she popped the batteries in place, causing the shoes to faintly glow, “these babies are speed enhancers.”

“Woah, cool.” (Y/n) gasped.

“And I would be honored if you would test them out for me, my busy bee.” Maru smiled, tapping (Y/n) on the nose.

“It would be my honor.” (Y/n) laughed.

The couple exited the bedroom and made it to the front of the house just in time to see Sebastian shove a whole void egg into his mouth, shell and all.

“Dude, I didn’t even boil those!” (Y/n) exclaimed.

Seb took a long pause to chew and swallow the egg before answering with a shrug, “It’s the best way to eat them.”

“I’m so concerned about the decisions you choose to make.” (Y/n) grimaced.

“Come on, (Y/n). Let Sebbie enjoy his eggs. We’ve got a trial run to start,” Maru took (Y/n)’s hand in her free one, the other carried the shoe box.

“I have got to see this.” Seb said, cradling his carton of void eggs as he followed the couple out of the house.

Outside, Robin and Demetrius were staring out over the mountains, enjoying the fresh summer air.

“Hey (Y/n),” Demetrius called upon noticing the trio exiting the house, “how’s that erm, special specimen, coming along?”

“Just a few more days I think.” (Y/n) grinned, “I’ll be sure to give you a fair share of the first harvest.”

Demetrius did a little fist pump, “Yes!” he grinned, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Dad, you can talk plants later,” Maru said, presenting (Y/n) the glowing shoes from the box, “(Y/n) and I are kind of in the middle of something.”

“What did you come up with this time?” Demetrius asked, already circling (Y/n) as they took off their boots.

“Shoes?” Robin cocked her head.

“Speed enhancing shoes, mom.” Maru added.

“Ah yes, should have guessed it wasn’t that simple.” Robin chuckled.

Once (Y/n) finished strapping up the shoes, they stood up, looking at Maru expectantly.

“So, what do I do?”

“Press those little buttons on the sides of the shoes and then start jogging.” Maru informed.

“You got it, boss.” (Y/n) bent at the waist and pressed the small buttons, causing a humming noise and a slight vibration to power through the shoes. Then they started a jogging pace, amazed at how light their feet felt.

“Wow, this is really neat Maru!” (Y/n) said, easily running to from the house, to the lake and back in under a minute.

“Nice work, honey.” Demetrius praised, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder affectionately as they watched (Y/n) make another lap.

“Thanks dad.” Maru smiled, after a few more laps Maru called out to (Y/n), “Okay (Y/n), you can stop now. This was a great run. And just to think, this is only the prototype!”

“Actually Maru, I can’t stop.” (Y/n) called out as they made another lap, sweat rolling down their face. “I’ve actually been trying to stop for a couple of laps now and I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“(Y/n)!” Maru slapped a hand against the side of her head. “You should have just told me, here let me help you.” Maru jogged after (Y/n), trying to catch up with them but failed miserably. “Sweetheart, if you could slow down just a tick, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I really can’t.” (Y/n) said. If anything, they only seemed to move faster. “Oh Yoba, Maru, I’m losing control of my coordination!” (Y/n) yelled as their clean, circular laps became squiggly and erratic bursts of speed.

“Hang on, (Y/n)!” Maru breathed heavily as she tried to catch her partner. She turned to her family watching in stunned silence and called out to them. “Can you guys help, please?”

“Oh, right. Of course!” Demetrius and Robin immediately began running after (Y/n) as well. Seb took his time carefully placing his void egg carton of the ground before joining in to try to cut (Y/n) off only for the shoes to juke him and send (Y/n) running the other way.

This went on for a few minutes, leaving the family short of breath, yet still they persisted. Things got more complicated however, when the glow of the shoes began to blink and (Y/n) began running even faster, sending them barreling down the mountain path into town. Maru made a last ditch effort to grab them but ended up falling into the dirt.

“Maru!” (Y/n) screamed, as their body disappeared down the trail.

“Oh damn.” Seb blew out a breath, helping his half sibling to her feet.

“Oh damn indeed.” Robin agreed as she caught her breath.

“Well, can’t just stand here. We got a farmer to catch.” Demetrius spoke up, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I knew I should have made a kill switch.” Maru groaned, dusting off her pants before jogging off after her partner. “Don’t worry (Y/n), I’m coming!”

“Oh Yoba, oh Yoba, oh Yoba!” (Y/n) chanted between breaths as they zoomed past the community center and into town.

“Ey (Y/n)! New training regiment?” Alex called from Dusty’s pen.

“Alex, I can’t stop! Help!”

“What, like you need a spotter or something? I’ve got your back.” Alex said as he began jogging behind (Y/n).

“No Alex, like I literally can’t stop!” (Y/n) called back before screaming. The shoes were sending them straight towards Evelyn, happily watering her plants and unaware of the danger behind her. “Oh my Yoba! Granny, look out!”

“Hm?” Evelyn turned and smiled, still unaware of the very real danger her brittle body was in. “Oh, hello dear. I made some cookies this morning, please help yourself.”

“Oh no!” (Y/n) squealed, covering their eyes with their hands, but luckily just before impact, the shoes took a hard left and spared granny from serious harm.

“Oh, goodbye then dear! Always so busy.” Evelyn shook her head and returned her attention to her plants.

(Y/n) kept running with Alex keeping pace a few yards behind them. They almost ran into Haley as she left her house.

“What the hell, farmer? Watch where you’re going maybe.” Haley grumbled, holding her precious camera close to her chest.

“Sorry Haley!” (Y/n) yelled back. “I have no control over my legs at the moment!”

“Come on, Haley. Help me catch them.” Alex called over his shoulder.

“I don’t run. You know that.” Haley stated plainly. “Good luck with... whatever’s going on there.” She watched the two run off towards the Cindersaps, hummed and shrugged. She positioned her camera and took a few photos before walking off to the beach only to be stopped moments later by the Mountain Road family huffing and puffing in front of her.

“Haley,” Maru wheezed, adjusting her glasses, “did (Y/n) run through here?”

“As a matter of fact, they did. Nearly ran me over too. They and Alex are sprinting to the Cindersap Forest as we speak.” Haley jabbed a thumb behind her shoulder, lazily pointing down the path (Y/n) had disappeared down. “Now I’ll be going. You might want to fix your hair by the way.” She added before continuing on her way to the beach.

“Damn (Y/n), you’re really booking it!” Alex yelled after (Y/n), the distance between them had started to grow.

“Less talking, more sprinting!... on your part, not mine!” (Y/n) yelled back. Their leg muscles were burning and tight as they continued to book it through the forest. As they steadily approached the pond in the distance, squinting, they could see Leah sitting on the dock with sketchbook in hand, enjoying her day.

“Leah!” (Y/n) yelled, startling the artist.

“(Y/n)?” Leah squinted back, using her sketchbook to shade her eyes from the sun.

“I can’t stop running! Do you think you could maybe catch me or push me into the pond when I get there?” (Y/n) asked between gasps of air. But between the distance and the heavy breathing, Leah had no idea what (Y/n) was saying.

“...What?” Leah called back after a moment.

“Push me into the pond!” (Y/n) yelled again, they were already passing Marnie’s farm and the time for Leah to get into position was slipping fast.

“What, why?” Leah was very confused but carefully, she set her art supplies down before hopping to her feet and jogging around the pond to meet (Y/n).

“Wait, no! Don’t stand in front of me, I’m coming in too hot! To the side! To the side!”

Leah was standing like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and hands out in front of her as she fully took in just how fast (Y/n) was moving.

“Leah bro, move!” Alex shouted from behind (Y/n).

But it was too late, (Y/n) collided with Leah head on, sending the poor artist into the water, but somehow (Y/n) managed to stay on land, their shoes immediately began working backwards, taking them back a few feet before sending them in circles around the pond.

“Leah, I’m so sorry!” (Y/n) called hands over their mouth.

Leah coughed and pulled a stringy mass of algae out of her hair, looking down at her soaking wet outfit.

“Why did you do that?” Leah asked, not so much angry as just annoyed, confused and inconvenienced.

“It’s the shoes! Maru made them.” (Y/n) puffed, trying to rub their aching thighs as they kept running. “I can’t stop running!”

“Oh, I see what you’re going for now, you want to try to short-circuit the shoes with water, is that right?” Leah grunted, pulling herself out of the pond. She then futilely wrung water out of the bottom of her shirt.

“Yes!” (Y/n) nodded.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n). I’ll tackle ya if I have to!” Alex shouted, running to meet them head on.

They chased around the pond for several minutes. They had a bit of a strategy going that had Alex on one side of the pond and Leah at the other so they could conserve some energy, yet they still couldn’t catch the farmer.

“(Y/n)!” Maru cried out in relief as she and her family jogged tiredly towards the pond.

“Maru!” (Y/n) called in return, narrowly missing another attempted tackle by Alex. “Please for the love of Yoba, make it stop! My legs are burning so bad!”

“I’ll bet, sorry!” Maru huffed, coming to a stop at Leah’s side and looping arms with the drenched artist while motioning her family forward. “Come on, let’s make a wall!”

“This is kinda like an intense game of red rover, huh?” Leah commented wryly, shivering a bit as a gust of wind came through.

“Just hold on tight! Don’t let go for anything!” Maru said, digging her heels into the dirt.

“Incoming!” (Y/n) gasped, turning sharply around the bend of the pond with Alex tromping behind them.

“Oof!”

(Y/n) struck Maru and Demetrius’ interlocking arms and nearly got the wind knocked out of their lungs. Their legs were still moving, fighting against the obstruction.

“Wrap around!” Robin ordered, pulling Seb inward so they could wrap around (Y/n)’s back to prevent a backup escape. Leah met them on the other side, grabbing onto Robin to lock (Y/n) inside.

Even with this dogpile-esque formation, the group still struggled to rein the farmer in and keep their footing. Alex caught up, hands on knees, and let out a low whistle.

“Not even my gridball coach’s drills make me sweat this much.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Sebastian grunted. He’d have really like for (Y/n) to stop stepping on his feet.

“Yeah, we can’t exactly stay in this weird group hug forever.” Leah added.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Maru, wrapped her arms tightly around (Y/n)’s waist and Alex filled in behind her, between Leah and Demetrius, “Shuffle to the pond, then make an opening. Trip (Y/n) up, and I’ll rush us in.”

“Maru, you’ll get wet too!” (Y/n) exclaimed.

“Water’s fine. Trust me.” Leah said with a half smile and playfully rolled her eyes.

“It’s okay, we do this together,” Maru nodded and tightened her hold. “Start moving!”

“Alright sweetheart, let’s go!” Demetrius rallied, starting to shuffle in the direction of the lip of the pond.

Everyone joined in, making sure not to leave an opening for (Y/n) to unwillingly escape from. Being the closest to their watery destination, Seb and Robin loosened the death grip between them, ready to break apart completely on Maru’s command.

As soon as Maru felt a lull in (Y/n)’s movements, she pushed the farmer forward with a yell.

“Now!” She cried.

Robin and Seb managed to whip their arms away quickly, and watched with mouths slightly agape as Maru tackled (Y/n) into the shallow pond, almost as if they hadn’t expected her to actually go through with it.

The couple surfaced and sputtered, coughing and gasping from the intake of water as well as just plain exhaustion from running around all day.

“Ow, ow!” (Y/n) yelped, their hands moving beneath the water’s surface before reemerging with the pair of sparking shoes. Just as they threw them back on to the shore, a huge plume of smoke burst from them. The scene made those still standing on land back away considerably from the flashy footwear.

“Well,” Maru sighed, still hovering hands and knees above the farmer, beads of water clinging to her glasses, “safe to say that experiment was a bust.”

(Y/n) snorted and sat up to hug Maru, laughing earnestly and breathlessly. “Better luck next time. I suppose. I’m sure you can uh, work out the kinks.”

Maru smiled, hugging (Y/n) in return. Everyone else on the bank watched with little smiles of their own. Even Demetrius who had been wary of (Y/n)’s interest in his daughter initially, was warmed by the sight.

“Well, I think that was enough excitement for me.” Leah clapped, “I’m gonna just grab my stuff and get home to wash this algae smell off of me.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home too. Yoba, I’m gonna be feeling this tomorrow. Great workout, see ya around (Y/n).” Alex waved before heading off after Leah, splitting off in the direction of town.

“Are you two going to get out or...?” Sebastian let the words hang.

“I honestly don’t know if I can.” (Y/n) laughed despite themself, chuckling into Maru’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if I can either.” Maru joined her partner’s giggles, “Think we could get a little help?”

“You got it.” Robin said, already kicking off her boots n’ socks and rolling up her pant legs. The carpenter carefully waded into the pond and helped her daughter up first, passing the girl on wobbly legs over to Demetrius’ waiting arms. Next came (Y/n) who got to their feet with a painful moan. The farmer stumbled to shore and hung onto Maru for support.

“Thanks for the help guys.” (Y/n) grinned.

“You’re family,” Demetrius explained, “we weren’t gonna leave you like that.”

“Aw, Demetrius!” (Y/n) cooed, slightly embarrassing the scientist, “I love you guys. Y’all are the best!”

“Even after I made you test those shoes?” Maru asked.

“Yeah!” (Y/n) answered with no hesitation. “Even though I feel like every muscle in my legs have atrophied and turned to jello, I’d happily take on whatever else you need a test subject for. I just love spending time with you.”

“I think we’ll take a break from testing for awhile, though I’m both concerned and touched that you are still willing to be my test subject.” Maru said, picking a stray strand of algae off of (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Hey, for a pretty genius like you? I’ll be forever at your disposal.”

“(Y/n)!” Maru pushed at their shoulder with a laugh, heat crawling up her cheeks.

“Alright, enough with the love fest.” Robin turned to Demetrius and Seb, “lunch at the Stardrop sound good?”

“Sounds good, hun.” Demetrius nodded, “It’ll be nice to rest before having to trek back up the mountain.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to meet up with Sam and Abi there anyway.” Seb shrugged, though he wished he could at least bring his void eggs back inside the house before hanging out in town.

Robin turned back to Maru and (Y/n). “And you two? Think you can make it?”

“Is it alright if we meet you there? I can take Maru back to the farm to borrow some dry clothes first if that’s okay. And I’m not sure what Gus’ policy is on shoes.” (Y/n) said wiggling their wet, socked toes in the grass.

“So long as there isn’t any funny business.” Demetrius leveled a protective fatherly gaze at the couple. Old habits die hard apparently.

“Dad, don’t be weird!” Maru admonished, already pulling (Y/n) towards the farm, “We’ll, meet you there. An hour tops!”

“Sounds good!” Robin called back, drowning out whatever retort her husband was going to come up with.

Maru stopped for only a second, asking her mom to take the sprinting shoes with her to the pub before turning her attention back to (Y/n) as they babbled on about their pigs as if nothing more substantial happened to them today. Their hands swung loosely between them, fingers intertwined. Maru smiled softly, listening to (Y/n)’s every word about hay and truffle oil. A lull in (Y/n)’s flow provided Maru an opportunity to lean in and give the farmer a chaste kiss.

“Ooo!” (Y/n) beamed before eagerly returning the favor. “Where did that come from?” They asked after a few more kisses were shared.

“I just wanted to kiss my sweet farmer. Much like when you think it’s cute when I talk about my projects, I think it’s cute when you talk about the farm.”

(Y/n) covered their face with their free hand, “Stop, you’ll make me blush. I can feel the blood rushing to my head already.”

Maru grinned, pulling the hand away from (Y/n)’s face to catch their bashful expression. Another quick kiss to the farmer’s cheek and Maru pulled them down the worn path to the farm, careful to watch for anything on the ground that could harm (Y/n)’s stocking feet.

[angstyaches]

The Strong One

I accidentally posted a reply to this ask too soon (instead of saving it as a draft as I’d planned) but here is what Mushroom Anon said:

ngl your self indulgent fics are some of your best ones. okay so my request was : a generally stoic and strong character getting sick from emotions? like from a panic attack or anxiety? their s/o is worried because ???? what happened?? turns out they’ve been having a Really Stressful Week TM and proceed to get pampered and loved. For felix and elliot. omg also how about : a little outsider shot of the two of them here pov ryan and nancy. thanks! 🍄

Post Thicker Than Blood Arc (i.e. after Felix comes back from visiting his mother’s nursing home etc.) And dude, I LOVED the Ryan/Nancy POV idea, holy shit. Thank you so much for that addition!!

CW: secrecy, bickering, panic attack, emeto, mention of (past) deaths.

___

“Good morning, darling,” Felix chirped as he entered the kitchen. Elliott was sitting at the marble countertop, one hand propping up his chin while the other tapped away at his laptop keyboard. Felix wasn’t sure what Elliott was working on these days – and he tended to get huffy and defensive when asked – so Felix made a grand gesture of cupping a hand around his eye while walking past. Look, darling, I’m not looking!

“Morning?” Elliott glanced down at his watch, tilting the laptop screen so that it was almost halfway shut, despite Felix making it obvious that he wasn’t looking. “It’s basically the afternoon.”

“Hmm?” Felix took hold of Elliott’s wrist, tilting his head to read the time. “No, it’s still the morning for seven more minutes and twelve more seconds.”

Elliott grunted. “Oh. Well. You got me.”

Felix chewed his lip, his feathers a bit ruffled by Elliott’s tone. He glanced through the kitchen towards the sitting room. “Where is everyone?”

“I think Nan dragged Ryan to the farmer’s market.”

“No!” Felix gasped. “I wanted to go, too.”

“Should’ve woken up earlier then, huh? Maybe joined me on a morning run?”

A grin spread across Felix’s face, his natural response to Elliott’s attempts to mould him into a morning person. It hadn’t happened in the last seven years, so it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

He leaned his head against Elliott’s shoulder, even though his hair was still dripping wet from his shower. “I love it when you nag me. You in the mood for a drop of coffee?”

“No, Fee, I’m fine.” Elliott tugged the laptop screen even lower, as though he thought Felix was trying to peek.

Felix looked up, a bit startled by the solemn tone of Elliott’s voice, and confused by just how protective he was being on his screen. His partner looked down at him, still the taller of the two while sitting on the island stools. His eyes portrayed an uneasy darkness that made Felix frown.

“Is…” Felix’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything alright, darling?”

Elliott blinked. “Yes. Why?”

“I – you just seem…”

One of Elliott’s eyebrows arched.

“… Tense,” Felix grimaced.

“Tense?” Elliott repeated dully. “Well, excuse me. Not all of us had fifteen hours of sleep.”

“Huh. Okay.” Felix pursed his lips and padded unhappily across the white tiles, towards the coffee maker. He felt silly. He could usually handle Elliott’s teasing and such, but something about the way he was acting felt strange. It was like something had shifted between them.

Felix felt his heart sink as he scooped coffee grounds into the machine, his motions slowing.

It had been three weeks since Felix had returned to the Aldridge’s townhouse, after spending a few weeks up north and visiting his mother in her nursing home. Beyond his first few days back, Elliott hadn’t questioned him too much about what had happened up there, so Felix had assumed – hoped – that he’d decided to put it all behind them. But there was a chance he had changed his mind since then, right?  

Felix blinked, realising he’d spilled grounds on the glistening white countertop. He barely cared. He turned around. “Elli?”

“What?” Elliott had lifted the laptop screen again, still sitting stiffly as he navigated some screen that Felix wasn’t allowed to see.

“Are – are you still angry with me?” There was a tiny hitch in Felix’s voice, which he couldn’t help. He didn’t want to take Elliott’s mood and make it all about himself, but the thought of Elliott quietly holding onto resentment made Felix’s stomach hurt.

Elliott let out a rasping sigh and slapped the lid of his computer shut. Felix jumped on the spot, watching with wide eyes as Elliott dropped his head into his hands where he sat. Felix was overcome with worry, sure, but for a tenth of a second, all he wanted to do was check that Elliott hadn’t broken his laptop and lost whatever secret project he was working on.

“Darling?” Felix laid down the coffee scoop and wrung his hands. “If – if this is about anything that we talked about, I would want you to tell me.”

“No.” The word was murmured so softly that Felix barely heard it. Elliott let out a shaky, audible breath, his face still hidden in his hands. “No, boo, you – you and I are fine.”

“You – I’m sorry, you keep using that word. Fine…”

“You and I,” Elliott huffed, “are perfect, Fee.”

That should have been reassuring, but Felix still had that sinking sensation in his chest. Elliott’s shoulders rocked forward slightly, like he was trying to curl into a ball where he was seated.

At least this time, Felix didn’t have to hesitate in coming to Elliott’s side. “Elli,” he sighed, sliding his arms around Elliott’s waist, resting his forehead on his back. “Talk to me.”

“I…” Elliott started off shakily, gulping so hard that Felix heard it from where he was positioned behind him. “I-I don’t…”

As he waited for Elliott to find the words, Felix gently moved a hand up and down over his ribs, hoping the contact was soothing and not stifling. Elliott’s chest was rising and falling way too quickly for Felix’s liking. He decided he should probably back off and give his partner space to breathe, but as soon as he started to move, Elliott grabbed one of his hands and tugged it towards his chest again.

“You have something, now, or someone who… who can tie you to your old life.” The words vibrated within his chest and his back as he choked them out.

Felix frowned and lifted his head, looking up at the back of Elliott’s. The taller boy’s dark hair was scooped into a messy bun. The ends were knotted and ratty. It hadn’t been cut in so long. “Darling, I don’t want to be tied to that life. I want to be tied to this life, with you.”

“I know, I know, but it got me thinking about the people I used to know, and how…” Elliott shuddered in Felix’s grip. “How they would all... I knew it was a long shot, but I tried finding some names online, but we – Jesus, most of us didn’t even have full names, we were just trying to survive –”

“Darling,” Felix whispered, at a complete loss for anything more substantial to say.

“I mean –” A dark tremble of laughter broke through Elliott’s voice. He swivelled the stool, stepping down and taking a few steps across the tiles. “It’s pointless to even look for them, right? What are the odds any of my old friends also happened to end up becoming immortal vampires, huh?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Rhetorical question, boo.”

“Sorry.” Felix followed a few steps behind Elliott as he went to the kitchen window. It didn’t even seem like he was looking at anything in particular, but simply exposing his retinas to the light from outside.

“Elli?” Felix said quietly.

Elliott glanced at him, just for a moment. His eyes were dark and wet, his lips trembling as he gradually lost the battle against full-on hyperventilation. He shook his head violently, gaze wandering aimlessly again. “I don’t – I don’t feel right. What’s wr… What’s wrong with me, Fee?”

“Darling, try to slow your breathing.”

Elliott slammed his palms down either side of the kitchen sink, his shoulders buckling forward under the pressure of the gasps and heaves racking his body. “Felix, what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re panicking,” Felix said, shocking himself with how calm he sounded. He closed the last few paces between them, unable to resist being next to Elliott while he was in this state. “I’m right here, alright? I’m going to touch your back, Elli, but – but please, tell me if it’s not okay…”

“Don’t,” Elliott gasped, shaking his head violently. His mouth bobbed open as he lowered his shoulders even further, eyes widening. “G-going to –”

A moment before Elliott started dry heaving, Felix realised what was happening, and obediently took his hand back. As a rule, Elliott detested being touched when he was sick, and Felix had learned to stop fighting that a long, long time ago.

Felix flinched at how violently sick Elliott suddenly was. His head was practically in the sink at one point, his body buckling under the intense convulsions. It was impossible to distinguish between the laboured breathing and the dry heaving, but every sound and every lurch made Felix’s heart twist a little tighter in his chest.

“Darling, I’m sorry,” Felix choked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you had all of this going on inside you.”

Elliott whimpered at that, attempting to lift his head a little higher. “Fee, I just –” He was immediately interrupted by a wet belch, and a clear stream of saliva that he needed to spit away from his lips into the sink. “You just got back, I w-want – wanted things to be normal… for you.”

“Elli,” Felix whined. He couldn’t believe what was happening here. Elliott was trying not to cry as he spoke, and Felix almost lost it too, though he did his best to keep a hold of things. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what Elliott meant by ‘normal’. He meant the normalcy where Felix could be a mess and Elliott was forced to be the strong one.

He watched as Elliott brought his elbows down gently in front of the sink, letting his head drop against them as the nausea finally seemed to past. He trembled and sighed deeply, seemingly in resignation.

Felix cleared his throat softly. “May I touch you?”

A very quiet chuckle emerged from Elliott’s buried face. “You may.”

Felix rested a hand gently on Elliott’s back, introducing the slightest amount of motion so that his fingertips grazed over a small portion of his spine. He lowered his forehead to Elliott’s shoulder again, this time with very little weight behind it. He needed Elliott to know he wasn’t leaning on him, but that he was there for him.

And he was capable of being the strong one sometimes.

___

“You know, there was a time where you would have helped me bring the bags in from the car,” Nancy sulked. Her arms were outstretched and wrapped around half a dozen bags from different vendors which were pressed against her chest.

“It is not my fault that you insist on buying so much,” Ryan said calmly, following her wife to the doorstep with her hands in her pockets. “For example, you did not need to purchase onions from three different stalls.”

“I told you; they’re different varieties!”

Ryan sighed as she opened the front door and stood back to let her wife into the front hallway of the townhouse. “An onion is an onion, love.”

“Felix,” Nancy grumbled, turning as she walked and narrowing her eyes at Ryan. “Felix will back me up. Felix! Felix, sweetheart!” she called towards the stairs.

The response from within the house was a muted sshhh, which sounded much closer than the upstairs bedrooms. Nancy frowned, meeting Ryan’s gaze for a moment as she closed the front door. Ryan made a beeline towards the kitchen and Nancy followed, dragging her feet slightly on the tiles as she struggled with her bags. She paused by the kitchen island to deposit all of them, watching as Ryan rounded the far corner and stared at what was happening on the sofa.

“Oh, sweethearts, what’s happened?” Nancy gasped, rushing over to stand next to Ryan.

Felix was sitting – almost upright – at one end of the sofa, white Elliott curled up next to him, his head resting in the smaller boy’s lap.

“Is… Is he asleep?” Nancy whispered.

Felix nodded silently. His poor eyes were red and a little puffy as he glanced back and forth between his two foster mothers.

“Anything we can do?” Ryan asked in a low voice, slipping her hands into the pockets of her slacks again. Nancy couldn’t help but pout; oh, sure, you’ll ask them if there’s anything they need you to do, but you won’t help me carry a couple of bags into the house.

A weak smile tugged at Felix’s exhausted expression, and he shook his head. His fingers drifted over Elliott’s head, brushing back a thin strand of his dark hair. Nancy once again couldn’t help herself, this time pursing her lips and wondering how long it had been since Elliott had cut his hair.

“Everything’s okay,” Felix murmured softly. “I’ve got him.”

[princip1914]

A few thoughts on writing longfic

I’ve had this post brewing for a while and I figured since today is a Friday I might as well let it out into the wild. 

First off, this is not writing advice. I don’t feel qualified to give writing advice. This is a few observations I’ve made over the course of trying to write something that feels, well, long. Fandom is full of excellent authors writing long chaptered fic, but I don’t see a lot of people talking about how they go about producing such fics. I remember feeling like long fic was really out of reach for me when I started writing again in the summer of 2019 after not writing for years and years and I wanted to talk a bit about how that changed for me. Of course, this post comes with all the caveats that there is no need to ever write long fic if you’re not feeling it. Some of my favorite authors write mostly or only oneshots! But, if you are interested, here’s my lengthy, self indulgent, and entirely personal take on ~the longfic process~ below the cut. 

First, to get this out of the way: long fic is anything that feels long or complicated to you, the author. “I’m working on my long fic” can mean that you’re branching out from microfiction to write something that’s 2k long, or it can mean you’ve got a multi-part 800k epic. There’s no objective measure of if something is “long fic,” Your own personal definitions can also change as you grow in confidence or change your focus as a writer (a little over a year ago when I finished Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire topping out at 31k, that felt very very long to me. Now it feels….still long, but not very very long.) 

Here are a few specific things that helped me write something long. I don’t know if they will be interesting for anyone else, but at the very least writing these down has been a fun way for me to reflect on my own process. 

Practice exercises. Ok, this is going to sound exceedingly obvious, but writing one shots prepares you for writing chaptered fic. Here’s what I mean more specifically: if you know you want to write (as a totally hypothetical example) a chaptered fic set in America in the summer that relies heavily on a nature metaphors, is written out of chronological order, and features a melancholy tone--it helps to write a few one shots like that before you embark on the Big Fic. Just like artists tend to do sketches before starting a big piece, it’s very helpful to write something small that gives you a feel for the ~vibe~ of what you’re trying to do in the long fic. It’s helpful for all the usual reasons--you get to know a specific version of the characters which helps plan out a character driven plot for the long fic--but it’s also helpful because you will learn if the tone and mood of the fic has enough staying power to capture your interest for the long haul. For instance, I have a few unfinished chaptered fics that have a humorous tone. I wish I had done more short humorous fics before starting them, because I would have realized that I don’t currently have the mental stamina to hold up a humorous tone for the length of a chaptered fic (hopefully that will change and I will finish Last Days some time this century!). 

Plan it out ahead of time. I used google sheets for The False and the Fair. I do not think God intended google sheets to be used for fiction, but that was not going to stop me. On a more serious note, I think the best tool for planning fiction is the one you’re the most comfortable with--the notes app in your phone, handwriting, word, google drive, sheets, chalk board, summoning circle, the blood of your enemies, etc. The reason I chose to use sheets is that I knew from the very beginning that I wanted certain things to happen at specific places in the story--for instance, I wanted the first kiss to happen at the end of the first third of the story and I wanted the “reveal” about the mine accident to happen at the end of the second third of the story. But, I didn’t know what was supposed to go in between those elements. A traditional outline for a story at this point in development might have looked like: 

Meet cute

Kiss

Reveal 

Ending 

But, what my brain needed was to preserve the blank spaces in between these story elements, and specifically to preserve the right amount of blank space between these story elements so that it didn’t end up, for instance, that the first kiss was halfway through rather than a third of the way through. In this way, I found google sheets an invaluable tool for pacing in the early parts of the planning process. I simply made 30 rows assuming 30 chapters, and started plugging in the elements I knew I wanted in the locations I wanted them. Then I filled in the blank spaces by asking myself “how do we get from X plot element to Y plot element in Z amount of chapters.” I’m not a mountain climber, but I’ve often thought about the first things that go into the spreadsheet in terms of mountain climbing terminology.  In climbing, a crux move, which can be anywhere along the route, is the most difficult move of the route: if you can’t do it, you can’t do the route. I think of the first things that go into the planning spreadsheet as the crux moves of the story, the most important pieces around which everything else turns. It was not an accident that those were also all the first scenes of the fic that I wrote; if I couldn’t do those scenes, I couldn’t do the story the way I planned it so I wanted to know early on if I needed to make changes.

Make changes if you have to: even though it helps to have things planned in advance, don’t resist the story if it tries to change on you while you’re writing it. Usually the feeling that you have to make changes stems from having a plot that is not entirely character driven. As you write the story, the characters reveal themselves and sometimes the plot has to change to change with the characters’ motivations. Here’s an area where fanfic writers have a leg up on everyone else: if you write fic, you already know the characters really well. That means, (in my experience anyway) it’s less likely that you’ll have a surprise character development which leads to a rethinking of the whole plot. Less likely, but not completely unlikely, unfortunately.

Lie to yourself: The False and the Fair was supposed to be 90k words. I thought that sounded reasonable, a little less than 3x the longest fic I had ever written. Now it's 161k and will probably top out a little over 170k. Ooops. But I never would have set out to write something that long. I wouldn’t have thought I could do it, even though anyone more experienced looking at my plans for the fic probably would have laughed at the idea I could cover all those plot points in 90k. Ignorance is bliss. Protect your ignorance.

Scrivener: Long fic for me means “fic that is long enough you can’t hold all the parts of it in your head at once.” That’s where Scrivener comes in (or another app if you’d rather, but I really like Scrivener for the ability to see the project either linearly or as condensed notecards). You can put together an organizational scaffold in Scrivener that allows you to move back and forth between the forest and the trees. So, for instance, you might be going for a jog and come up with the perfect line of dialogue for chapter 27 when you’re only up to chapter 5 in terms of writing progress. With Scrivener, you can go home, and put that dialogue in the “bucket”/index card/whatever for chapter 27 without compromising your ability to see chapter 5 clearly or muddying up your google doc. You can then use the fact that you’ve started writing bits and pieces of the later chapters in conjunction with the tool of lying to yourself that, actually, you’ve written a lot more of the fic than you realize and that when you get to chapter 27 it won’t be as hard as chapter 5 because you’ve put in the groundwork already. In my experience, this lie turns out to be true about 50% of the time, which is better than 0% of the time.

Digestible mini arcs: The False and the Fair was originally broken up into thirds. I thought it would be 90k and 30k was the longest I had written, so thirds seemed to make sense. Also, 3 is a nice, time honored storytelling number. I think it’s good to give yourself seemingly achievable milestones along the way to completion. These milestones (for me anyway) lined up well with the “crux moments” I’ve described. If you’re someone who likes to write out of order, writing your way to an already written milestone can feel like sailing to an island where you get to rest for a bit from the stormy seas before setting out for the next island in the archipelago.

“It's all part of the process”: I’m categorically incapable of describing things without resorting to running metaphors, and so I apologize in advance, but I am now going to do the insufferable thing of comparing writing a long fic to running a marathon. Here’s the thing with a marathon. You are not going to feel good every step of the way. We all know this. It’s a marathon, it’s supposed to hurt a little bit, especially at the end. In the same way you literally cannot write something novel length or even novella or long short story length without, at least at some point, feeling bad about yourself and your writing. But you also can’t run a marathon if the whole thing is agony, and for most people, it’s not--your meat sack shuffling along the course is subjected to the slings and arrows of all sorts of weird body chemistry that only happens when you push it to its limits. So, you’ll be in agony and then the endorphins will kick in for a while and you’ll be thinking “this isn’t nearly as bad as everyone said,” and then you’ll drink some water at a rest stop and feel like a God for half a mile before you crash and you’re in agony again until that one perfect song comes up on the playlist...and you get the idea. Writing something long, for me at least, is a bit like that. There are massive ups and downs. The key for me is to just understand it’s all part of the process, a necessary step on the way to the finish line. If the fic is 10 chapters long, at some point you have to write chapter 5. Just like you have to write chapter 5, at some point you also have to go through a bit of despair before reaching the end. It is unfortunately non-optional. In fact, despairing is something you can check off your list each time you’ve done it. Cut dialogue tags, check. Feel awful about my writing for thirty minutes, check. Write ending section, check. Often I feel that the stress and shame and fear that come with bad emotions while writing are worse than the bad emotions themselves. It really helps me to remember these emotions are all part of the process and nothing to worry about. If I didn’t have them, then I would worry! 

I certainly have plenty more to say about writing, but this ramble has gone on long enough. If you’re interested in any of this stuff, please feel free to send me an ask. 

I would also love to know more about everyone else’s writing processes, so feel free to pop into my ask box to talk about your own approach too! I am very interested in this stuff! 

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 15

new year, new chapter c: it's been a while since i've worked on Chronicles—December Mood dips are Not Delicious, plus i started streaming regularly, which has been fun! ((i’m omnistruck on Twitch if you want to check it out 🥰) but rest assured i intend to see it through to the end. i hope you've been well <3 take care, and enjoy!

From: itsdjbubbles

My dude, if your stage presence is anything like this flyer, y’all are absolutely gonna kill it at La Tortue.

Well. Luka doesn’t know about that.

It’s not like Kitty Section is totally obscure. They’ve had a stage in Paris’s annual pop-up music festival or more than one occasion. And sometimes Juleka’s tagged along to street corners with him so they could duet in hopes of more than just pocket change. And, of course, there was that whole music contest with Bob Ross and XY, but that had only ended in fiasco: their music was stolen, Rose’s vocals ripped right off the track. Luka argued up and down over the phone until he was red in the face, nearly biked down to the studio and let them have it, but he could hardly prove it. And he cared too much about it jeopardizing Juleka’s happiness to follow through.

Total corporate bullshit. He didn’t know how Jagged Stone did it. When he said so at dinner the night he gave up, his Ma only tousled his hair and said, “You’re my boy, aren’t you?”

Sometimes he thinks that’s the strongest, bravest, he’s ever been. That all his audacity peaked years ago, and he’s only gotten worse since then.

Bubbles isn’t corporate bullshit. Luka feels like he’d be able to figure out something like that from conversation alone. But their talks have been friendly—and more than that, supportive. He’s even shown a few messages to the band, just to check that he wasn’t losing his mind. And he saw how their faces softened in approval, or lit up with excitement. Even Juleka’s.

Besides, Bubbles makes music. And when he samples something, he actually credits it. He knows how to play the game. And it feels like they’re on the same side of the board.

Bubbles has that stage presence; the fact that he only needs that one shadowy picture on his profile is more than enough of an indicator. And Bubbles has a reputation that precedes him. So even if they’re on the same side of the board, it feels like Bubbles is always just a couple of steps ahead.

At least his bandmates are on the same side, and at the same step. All it took was a casual mention, during a late-night band practice, of “the bakery he keeps getting their snacks from” being all in on getting them even more exposure. They didn’t exactly do a good job of hiding their excitement, but he wouldn’t have wanted them to, anyway. Even Juleka, after practice ended, had to admit, “You did good.” And then, with perhaps a bit more snark, “Maybe she’s the one trying to impress you. “

“Stop,” Luka said with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t help thinking about it once the partition between their beds was up. There was no way Marinette Dupain-Cheng was trying to impress him.

…Was there?

By now, nearly a day later, Luka’s still asking himself that. Still hemming and hawing like they have more than just two weeks to get their act together. Pacing below deck with his phone in his hand, thinking about pear tarts and pretty faces instead of going to see them in person, and staring at Marinette’s phone numbers until he thinks he’s accidentally memorized both of them.

He doesn’t recognize the pattern or the area code of one of them, so he can only assume that it's an American number. But he still hasn’t mucked up the courage to text or even save the French one in his phone. Why does he need to be scared in the first place? It’s a phone number, and this is strictly business, and everything between them has been strictly business.

Well. Nearly everything. Nearly strictly.

He thinks.

Okay. Okay. All he has to do is say… what? Hi? Who just starts texting someone for the first time with “Hi?” But he can’t go writing a whole essay either, even though at least now he has the power to edit his words instead of just saying them and hoping for the best.

This is harder than it needs to be. And yeah, maybe he’s just making it harder than it needs to be, but it’s not like his brain and the shake in his hands are giving him much of a choice in the matter.

Luka switches back over to his message thread with Bubbles and shoots off a quick reply—flatterer—because maybe answering something easy will make the hard stuff more tolerable. He finds himself looking toward his guitar as though it might lend him strength… well, what the hell. It couldn’t hurt. He plays a doodle or two, idle notes, and catches himself before his fingers can drift toward the beginning of the ocean-blue song. At this point, it’s neither perfect nor good, and he can’t tell if it’s personal dissatisfaction or the numbers that the latest draft has been doing online.

Both. It’s probably both.

Messaging Marinette ends up being just as hard after his attempts at centering as it was before—because as it turns out, the whole music-giving-him-unbridled-confidence thing really only works while he’s playing it. So now he’s left still staring at the blank NEW MESSAGE screen, the cursor blinking almost tauntingly at him because of course it is. Because somehow, he can write a note telling a girl her eyes are pretty and survive long enough to see her smile about it, but he can’t send that same girl a text. It’s not like he can even see her reaction this time, anyway; that just gives him even more of an advantage.

Okay. Okay. He can actually do this. Maybe. He thinks—no, no, he has to.

With a deep breath that he holds longer than he releases, Luka opens a new message.

To: Marinette hey. it’s luka.

And like an idiot, he hits SEND before he’s even put the rest of his message together. So now he has to make a mad dash to come up with something so he doesn’t seem like a total creep for messaging her out of the blue.

For fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he writes his messages in the notes first.

To: Marinette sorry, hit send before i could finish. anyway, just wanted to tell you the band is cool with the postcard idea. i can pay you next time i come to the bakery, if that’s cool.

To: Marinette anyway, it’s really cool of you to offer your help like this. sorry if i didn’t say so yesterday, it’s kind of been... a wild time.

Luka locks his phone before he can agonize too much over what he’s sent, stuffs it away and starts pacing again. It’s not a frantic, shaky thing; no, he’s learned to keep the shakes on the inside until no one’s around to see them. He jumps when his back pocket vibrates, and he nearly drops his phone trying to fish it out. It’s only Bubbles, and he can’t tell whether he’s relieved or disappointed until his phone buzzes again. Twice. And this time, it actually is from Marinette.

From: itsdjbubbles Sorry, I was getting some stuff ready for my next project. Listen, I’m just saying. Don’t sell yourself short as this stuff. Paris is gonna hear you up there, and it’s gonna lose its collective fucking mind.

From: Marinette hi luka ☺️ no worries, i do that too sometimes. here’s the mockup for the postcard. let me know what your band thinks, i’ll do some tweaks and send it to print. sound good?

Luka balks, both at the tone of the message and at the picture she sent. It looks almost exactly like the flyer, same color scheme and everything. The only difference seems to be in the composition, which makes sense; she’s got more of the eye for this stuff, even for someone who only “dabbles.”

To: Marinette wow, this is... thank you? that was fast. and this is really well put-together. i think they’re gonna love it.

you really weren’t kidding, huh.

Luka finds himself sinking onto his bed and staring at the message thread instead of actually doing something productive. And strangely, he’s fine with that. The more time passes, the less scary it is to see her typing back, again and again and again.

From: Marinette course i wasn’t kidding. “help” is practically my middle name to the people who matter.

and i mean, there’s only a little bit of time until your show, right? so, gotta get movin.

anyway, i gotta run. my friend needs help for his summer class and i promised i’d go visit today.

Keep me posted about your band!

♥️

There is far too much in that message for Luka to need to process. “People who matter?” “Keep me posted?” The literal heart emoji at the end? He reads their messages over and over, mostly to confirm that this really, actually just happened, but he’s not going to push his luck. Maybe she just talks to everyone like that, and more importantly, the two of them haven’t been much more than a series of transactions anyway.

A... lot of transactions.

That she’s been doing a lot of giving for.

Luka tries and at least sort of succeeds at shaking the thought from his mind; he can’t read hers, and he shouldn’t try to. He sends her one last text—cool, have a good one—and switches back to Bubbles before he can worry if his words were too casual.

To: itsdjbubbles Thanks for the vote of confidence. I guess you’re not the only one? the bakery I go to, they’re offering to help too.

or, I mean, CBG is offering to help.

Bubbles’s reply doesn’t come until a few hours later. It’s presumably after that project work he mentioned, and definitely after Luka’s had some time to play out the rest of the shakes before he goes busking. His phone buzzes with the notification just as he’s about to leave, and what Bubbles has to say makes his stomach churn and his blood run both hot and cold.

From: itsdjbubbles wait. wait wait wait. hold on i just scrolled your posts.

CBG is *Marinette Dupain-Cheng?*

ohhhhhhh my dude you are in for it now.

[bitchin-beskar]

Hot Blooded

Rating: M

Warnings: Sex. Din wins a fight, and he’s really horny. That’s the plot. There’s not a lot of spoilers, but there’s a little bit. Be warned.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Oh look, it’s yet another fic inspired by Episode 9 of the Mandalorian. Who would have seen that coming? I’ve been ranting to @perropascal about this fic, so it’s dedicated to her! (thanks for always hyping me up, I love u ❤️)

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment! I love feedback!

PLEASE BE WARNED. THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 9 OF THE MANDALORIAN. IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN 2x01 DO NOT READ (unless you’re into spoilers and stuff)

You heard the Crest’s door slide open, followed by the heavy thunk of your Mandalorian’s boots on the metal floor. You were in the middle of trying to fix one of the indicator panels, and didn’t bother turning around. This was just an intel-gathering stop, so you weren’t particularly worried about your partner.

As he moved around the cargo hold, you continued to try and fix the stupid panel. It had been giving off false readings for weeks, and every time you’d thought you’d fixed it, it miraculously broke again. 

“Where’s the kid?”

Din’s gruff voice was unfiltered, and you heard the clang as he set his helmet down on one of the crates in the hold. More clangs followed as he slowly stripped himself of his armour.

“He’s upstairs, napping. Damn little womp rat took forever to fall asleep, I swear he’s got an endless energy reserve.” You trailed off, muttering about small green alien children who never seemed to need sleep. “I didn’t think I was ever going to get him down for his nap.”

Sticking your tongue between your teeth, you reached into the panel, trying to find the missing wire that somehow kept getting disconnected. You’d just brushed your fingers against it when two hands landed on the bulkhead on either side of you, a warm, solid chest pressing against your back.

“Shit, Din, be careful!” You cursed, jumping. “I could’ve electrocuted myself, you idiot–” You were cut off as one of Din’s hands swiftly found the bottom of your shirt, yanking it up and snaking his hand up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple.

“What the hell–?”

Din’s other hand moved your hair to the side, his lips landing on your neck, placing searing kisses against the sensitive skin. You could feel how sweaty his skin was, pressed up against you as close as he could get. While a part of you wanted to just abandon this project and give in, you were so close to being done.

“Give me just a few minutes Din, I’ve almost finished here, and then I–”

A low groan left Din’s mouth, the vibrations hitting your skin and fanning the flames that had started simmering low in your belly. He stepped closer to you, pressing you up against the metal wall of the bulkhead, his hips rocking against your ass as you realized he was hard. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and a soft moan left your lips. You could feel your body beginning to give in, but you tried to stay focused. “Din, I promise, I’m almost done–”

“Finish it later,” Din growled. “Need you now.”

You whimpered quietly. Din knew how much it turned you on when he got bossy, the bastard. Yet you were determined to not give in. 

You forced your eyes open, and reached into the panel again. “I swear, I need to get one thing done today, just let me–” 

Din didn’t even let you finish your sentence, bodily yanking you away from the bulkhead and spinning you around so that you were bent over one of the crates that lined the hull. He ground his clothed erection into your ass, pressing his entire body against you, his mouth hot against your neck. 

“The only thing you need to be doing, sweet girl,” he groaned. “Is letting me fuck this pretty cunt until I’m satisfied.”

Your fingers desperately grasped at the netting that secured the crate to the side of the hull as Din rolled his hips against yours, pressing you into the sharp corners and edges of the metal crate. 

“Wh–What’s gotten into you?” You gasp, moaning as Din cups your cunt through your pants. “You aren’t u–usually this n–needy!”

Din chuckled darkly, working your pants down just enough so that he can access your dripping cunt. “My contact betrayed me,” he grunted, circling your clit. “Had all these henchmen, tried to take me out.” 

You hear the rustling of fabric behind you before the blunt head of Din’s cock nudges at your fluttering entrance. You suck in a breath, purposefully relaxing your muscles as he starts to press forward.

“Wh–What were the–the odds?” 

Din gripped your hair, pulling your head back, forcing your back to arch as he slowly pressed further into you. “Nine or ten. I didn’t stop to count.” He whispers in your ear. “They didn’t put up much of a fight.”

You love that cocky tone of his, the absolute certainty in his voice that he wasn’t in any danger, even though you know that sometimes that cocky attitude gets him into trouble. 

“Do you know what they did do, sweet girl?” Din asks as he finally bottoms out, hips flush against yours. “They got me all excited. I was ready for a fight, and they were just disappointing.” 

He grinds his hips against yours, and you whimper at the sensation of being absolutely stuffed. “I’ve got all this pent up energy, sweetheart. I figure I should put that energy to good use.” He kisses the side of your neck. “What do you say?”

You know exactly what Din wants to hear. “Fuck me, Din. Please, fuck me–!” The air is punched out of your lungs as Din draws back and then slams forward, his hips slapping against your ass. His pace is fast and rough and perfect, and you can’t stop crying out. 

You fucking love it when he gets all needy like this. He gets so tactile and desperate, holding you tight against him as his cock makes you see stars. His mouth is running, muttering dirty little promises against your skin, telling you how good you feel, how tight you are around him, how you’re the only thing in the entire fucking galaxy that he needs, that he could die happy if the only thing he did for the rest of his days was bury his cock deep inside your twitching cunt. 

It’s filthy and rushed and in practically no time you’re coming, gasping and crying out as Din rails into you from behind. He groans as he feels your cunt clamp around him, whispering in your ear about how fucking wet you get when you come, about how good you are, letting him fuck you however he needs to. 

He doesn’t slow his thrusts at all during your release, and the fire in your belly barely has time to die out before the embers are relit and the flames are leaping higher than before.  

Whenever Din gets needy like this, he runs his mouth, his verbal filter vanishing. His whispered praises settle over your skin like the finest silk, his words making you feel more beautiful than the most expensive gowns ever could. 

Din abruptly pulls out, and you moan at the loss. He spins you around, pulling your pants all the way off as he does, and you see the look in his eye right before he kisses you breathless. 

“I know that look, Djarin,” You murmur against his lips. “What–mmh–What are you up to?”

Din takes a step back and slowly sinks to the ground, his back against the bulkhead, pulling you down to straddle his lap as he goes. He lines himself back up with your entrance and pushes into your soaking cunt with a moan. 

“I want you to ride, sweet girl. You’re so good at it.”

You throw your arms around Din’s neck, resting your forehead against his as you slowly start to swivel your hips. You work up a rhythm, rocking back and forth as you begin to pick up the pace. You close your eyes, biting your lip as you chase your release.

Din seems to have other ideas, however, as his hands come up to grip your hips, stalling your movements. You whine, opening your eyes to see his teasing smirk. He tugs at your shirt. “Take this off, sweetheart.” 

You comply, gripping the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up and over your head, baring your chest to Din. He requests that you don’t wear any kind of breast band on the ship, as he prefers the easy access to your chest. 

“You’re obsessed with my tits, Din,” you giggle, sighing as he reaches up to cup your breasts. He fondles you slowly, his cock throbbing inside you. 

“You have perfect breasts, sweet girl. Why wouldn’t I be obsessed?” 

Before you can retort, he leans over and takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking at the rapidly-hardening peak. 

You gasp, cupping the back of his head as your sensitive bud is toyed with. Your sudden movement causes his cock to shift inside you, and you suck in a breath. 

Din begins to manipulate your hips, moving you in tight circles while impaled on his cock, all while sucking at your breast. The sensations are overwhelming, a litany of moans and gasps falling from your lips as you try to stay coherent. 

You lose the battle as Din starts to lift you up and drop you down on his cock, reaching deeper inside of you than he was before. It sends shocks up your spine, and your fingers clench as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 

He releases your breast with a wet pop, moving to lavish the same attention on your other nipple. His hands are gripping so tightly you think you might end up with bruises. 

He lifts you off almost completely and holds you there, just the tip of him still nestled inside you. Immediately, your hips try to grind down, but he holds you steady. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?” He murmurs against the skin of your breast, faux innocence filling his voice.

“Mmm, need to come, please Din, fuck, please, let me come, Din!”

You scream his name as he abruptly yanks you downwards while thrusting up into you, the suddenness of the movement causing you to fall off the cliff you didn’t even know you were on. Your legs are shaking, and Din immediately sits up, moving forward and lowering you down until your back is resting on the floor of the cargo hold, and he’s cradled in the vee of your hips.

He begins thrusting again, fast-paced and frantic, and you’re so sensitive it almost hurts but you never want him to stop. His head is bowed and you’re clutching at his shoulders as he absolutely wrecks you, and when his hips start to stutter, you can tell he’s close. 

He suddenly reaches down with one hand and begins to circle your clit, and you reflexively try to stop him, your sensitivity almost too much to bear. But Din just sits back, grasping both your wrists in his other hand before pinning them to the floor above your head. You’re helpless in his grasp, and before you realize it, you’re coming for a third time, and this time, Din comes with you.

His moan as he comes inside you is one of the sexiest things you’ll ever hear, and when he collapses forward to rest on his forearms above you, you crane your neck to kiss him. 

He follows you down, letting you rest your head on the metal floor as he kisses you, his tongue mimicking the actions of his cock not even twenty seconds ago. He still has your hands pinned, and he takes control over every aspect of the kiss, stealing your breath and professing his love all at once.

When air becomes a necessity, he pulls away, releasing your wrists and sitting back, watching as his come drips out of your cunt and onto the floor. You almost roll your eyes at the look in his, but before you can, he reaches down and scoops up some of his spend, shoving it back inside you with two fingers.

You moan in surprise, your eyes fluttering shut at yet even more stimulation. Din slowly massages your clit as he keeps two fingers inside you, keeping you stuffed full of his come.

“Did I hurt you, sweetheart?”

You lazily open your eyes to look at Din, his concern clear on his face. Smiling softly, you reassure him.

“I’m fine, Din. Trust me.” He smiles back. “Now am I allowed to finish my work on that stupid indicator panel?”

Your Mandalorian only smirked at you. 

“What makes you think we’re done?”

Permanent Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

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[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Before Dawn: Bonus Chapter (1)

Helloooooo, alright listen, I re read a choice with no regrets and uhm here is this, a little insight on what has happened a little while before our story began, I'm sure you'll want to see some nice bonding with Isabel

Warnings: just a few teeny little mentions of intercourse

@hidehaskak of course here's your tag❤️

Turtleneck

"Yehawhaww" The moment you appeared at the entrance to the roof Isabel screamed at the top of her lungs in great enthusiasm. You stood silent after you spared her a smuggling nod pacing your eyes between the two men that accompanied her, awaiting for a signal of approval. "I knew I could get you to come! You guys don't mind her hanging out with us right? She's a friend."

At that sound the males finally gave in, letting Isabel close the distance between the both of you. Her significantly smaller arms wrapped around your frame in a pure hearted childish manner and seeing that you towered over her you placed your hands on the small of her back, almost too reassuringly to the males' liking. Their unforgiving gazes burned holes in your whole body with much rage built in for ruining their fun for the night.

You knew you were practically unwanted, but it was for Isabel that you stepped foot on this rooftop to begin with. Tired of her never ending pleas to join her and her so called bros as they looked at the stars and talked about everything and anything you had decided to violate curfew and join her, not them, just her, because you wanted to share some more moments with her. This young little redhead was growing on you in the best way possible, you thought she kind of reminded you of yourself in times where you needed salvage or just a friend with whom you could share your piece of mind and heart.

She wasn't like that at first. Isabel probably resembled a rose, it occurred to you, with her godly youthful looks and her thorn like personality. It was a result from growing up in a trashhole like the underground, among thugs, being forced to build a rough personality if she wanted to survive, it was merciless for her and any other girl down there. But the bubbly side of her personality assured you she was much more than a badass teen who could hand you your ass in any fight, she had a pure heart and you longed to help her feel like she deserved post childhood experiences. But for now, it felt as if your roles had reversed. Sure, you were -if not just as her- bubbly and kind but sometimes you were frustratingly unresponsive and ill faced that it worried her until she got to know you. You hadn't put yourself in a place to talk about you trauma to her; she had her own demons and there was no point in burdening her with your abusive background, but you managed to explain to her that most of your weird and uptight behaviors, most things you could dispose of to become a better person, were curved into you in ways you could share yet. And Isabel, as respectful as ever had assured you it was fine not to be able to share.

Most girls would shut her out due to her formal nature as a thug, much like your friends who at first were adamant about discouraging you to befriend her. They had assumed she wouldn't be able to be nice and kind or to talk like them, but you were against any pretentious act behind her back. Maybe it was due to egoistical motives that you wanted to salvage this little girl, because she reminded her of you, and Nanaba, the only person who fully knew about your situation was taking a stand against this at first. She didn't want you to hurt yourself or the redhead in the process of trying to project your condition on her. But you didn't give up. With Isabel as your new bunkmate you had many chances of getting it right.

"Did you bring what I asked you to?" Isabel hurriedly asked, reaching her hands to make a quest inside the tote bag that you carried. You showed no sign of holding back as you let her peak into the cream colored bind, but only managed to cover your ear as her squeks got louder. "Thank you thank you thank you! Sit down, show me!

Isabel shooed Levi and Furlan apart, placing herself right next to the blond man while tapping her hand on her left side. You followed her smile hesitantly and proceeded to sit down to where her hand was rested a few seconds ago, next to Levi. You felt his eyes ravaging your whole form, up and down as if you were some dirty pig that seeked to rub its mud onto him. When seated neatly enough as to not touch him you proceeded to pry open your tote bag and toss a share of it insides to Isabel.

With a determined face she got a strong hold of the grey colored yarn and the pair of slightly thick needles you had managed to recover for her. "Okay show me, show me!"

"Oh what's that?" Furlan peeked his head over Isabel's shoulder to inspect of the situation.

"It's yarn and needles."

"Ahh, Furlan don't interrupt, (y/n) show me how to cast on!"

"See that's the easiest part, sweetheart." You watched Isabel coo at the support in your tone while she puckered her lips to a cute kid like pout. She followed your slow movements as if you were a goddess, showing her how to create new wolds with her strained hands.

Levi, even though he was suspicious of you, a member of Erwin's team who tried to coax her way into Isabel's life, felt somehow relieved to see that beloved expression on Isabel's face. He had overheard her once, taking to her self in the mirror, wishing she had a lady friend to spend time with and it pained him that she had a feeling of such lack inside her. Therefore your presence was a little soothing in their company. He would be lying if he said he personally didn't like it. After all he had thought you were a beautiful company to Erwin in one of the many times he had come across him in the Underground, silently watching him from the shadows. Not that he was a creep to begin with, it was just his lack and a response to the question of whether you can ever see a stranger twice, that you were actually a scout.

"Where did you learn to do this (y/n?)" Furlan was set to break off Levi's thoughts for one too many times tonight.

"Old mothers are adamant about these things, you know, good girl stuff and all."

"Oh." He began with a flirtatious tone that made both Levi and Isabel turn to him wide eyed "Good girl huh? Every Bad boys dream, including min- ah shit Isabel, ouch!"

The squint in Isabel's eyes was something that you couldn't see and you even ignored it as a matter of fact. Isabel was aware of your teeny crush on Levi, she had gotten it out of you one day during training after she had caught you gawking and drooling at him for doing the bare minimum. It was simply natural for her to get overly excited at the fact. Ever since then she had been convinced that him and you would be a perfect match, that you wouldn't have to be so uptight with him after all but you would always brush her off. It didn't torment you just get, even if his cold gaze somehow tickled your heart at certain times you were perfectly fine with hanging out around him. But there was no point in trying to convince Isabel to give up, not when she practically lived off of you and the male duo. Perhaps that was why she had squinted her eyes so hard at Farlan, she didn't want the couple in her head to be broken apart before it even started.

For the rest of your time with them you barely speak. You were fine with standing there and knitting away your project, a grey ribbed sweater that you had accidentally managed to make huge up to a certain point when you didn't find a purpose in casting off and undoing. You wondered if Isabel really wanted to knit or if it was her excuse to have you hang out with the ravenette since she had seemed to long forget about her needles and was fixated on a bottle of booze, talking away about some merchants in the underground flee market. You figured you should take your leave being to alienated to break their usual trio, you couldn't even keep up with their conversations, not that they cared to include you.

"So if you're all about playing housewife what are you doing here?" Farlan's voice calls out to you almost strained from any actual purpose, he probably knew it was kind of rude on the part to not include you after Isabel had invited you.

You remained silent for a few moments, tilting your head back to stare at the jewel decorated dark sky. Finding the right words for your purpose seemed unbelievably difficult and suffocating but it perhaps was nothing compared to their previous lifestyle.

"I didn't want to die." Two of the three almost fall to instant, bubbling laughter the moment your thoughts longer in the air as actual words.

"And you came here out of all places?" Levi sternly inquired without ever initiating some sort of eye contact.

"I wasn't top of my class, but even if I was I wouldn't go in the MP. I don't want to live a full life as a bastard you know and Garrison, let's say I have my reasons as to not going there."

Something about that bastard themed sentence caused curiosity to twitch inside Levi's chest but he didn't quest on it, oversharing wasn't in his plans to do so with a practical stranger, even if deep down you didn't exactly feel like one. He couldn't be explain that feeling but he could certainly understand what it was that made Isabel so attached to you. Something about your aura was like fresh, dripping honey, unprocessed yet sweet and endearing and overpoweringly strong to the flavor.

"You're not a bastard you had parents right? You just talked about your old mother."

Conveniently, Farlan's words allowed you to shut up and look away, further away from the former thug trio and into the vast horizon that laid before you. You contemplated what was it that enamored everyone outside the walls. With all that death, the scouts corpses that rot every where, you didn't have anything against the walls or life inside, taking down Titans and following orders was therapeutic enough to you as long as you came back to an eventual cup of milk tea and your knitting and embroidering projects. You couldn't bring yourself to give a damn about your future, but you liked fighting for the future of others, maybe somewhere there was a child, just like you, who wanted to get away from an abusive household and start a new life or pick up on experiences they had never lived. These people deserved not to feel caged inside the walls and plus, the nature of the Titans was very much appealing to you due to Erwin and his constant pep talks.

"Wait so how did you end up in Erwin's squad if you're mediocre?" Farlan pushed again, not wanting to let you stay silent for what's worth it.

"Don't forget I'm a veteran. I've outpassed the years a scout is expected to live so Erwin decided to move me to his squad, Mike insisted since we were from the same district."

"Oh so you fucked your way up huh?"

With the corner of his eye Levi watched as your eyes widened in shock. He couldn't possible know about your past, but you didn't seem the tyoe to go around and fuck your superiors so you could earn a higher rank. You were too ignorant to anything, it was prominent that you didn't care about even receiving your own room for serving well all these years.

"How dare you! As if it's something to open your legs for!" There it was, sweet confirmation that you indeed were ignorant.

"Good girl and all huh?"

"Sure."

There was something tense in the air as Farlan flirted, the subtle roll in your eyes, the unusual monotony of Isabel's voice, even Levi has seemed to bring his shoulders towards his collarbones in any attempt to distance his mind off of the unrequited nature of scenery. You weren't flirting back, momentarily he wondered if you even knew how since the sheer blush on your face betrayed your otherwise distinctive spitfire. You acted more childish than Isabel, in a way that you probably didn't realise caught Levi's attention because he didn't mind to spare you a glare, he'd rather keep it to himself.

____

Next time, it was supposed to be Farlan who approached to help you get your foot out of the muddy hole it was stuck to, Isabel squealed profanities at him, but it was Levi who had managed to push past him and the redhead, exposing his self to the cold pouring rain to run towards you. Just how stupid of your team was to leave you in the pouring rain to make your foot in your own?

His mind was at gaze as he sprint, random thoughts filling empty apathetic species that begged for overthinking to take over them. He knew Farlan didn't really like you, he was just trying to such to their plan and keeping you close was in sole purpose of getting closer to Erwin but for Isabel is want like that. She really liked your company, even he enjoyed some of your company at times and they weren't taking any chances with using you.

Moreover and much to his despise, he found himself in a very murky situation with each extension of his foot to your location. Fuck did you really have to look like that? With one leg stretched, toned bottom swaying in the air, strong veiny hands gripping on your knee, mud on the tips of your fingers and hair wet, making wild moves as you flipped your head upwards to get it out of your face. He twitched at the way a small tress stuck to your chapped lips, almost as if you were a goddess of water, a Nereid, as if you were made to be in this drenched state. Small droplets traveled from your chin down your exposed neck, hiding inside the base of your soft grey turtleneck, it was indeed a magnetising scenery, an alluring unraveling play to his eyes but he dared to rip his eyes away. He wondered if anyone could perceive this scene the way that only he did.

"Tch, try not to get that filth on me." He spoke as his sleek palms wrapped around your torso in delicate force, fitting almost perfectly. He closed his eyes. What the fuck was he even thinking? He wasn't even going to stay here for long.

"Wouldn't dream of it, but I beg of you to help before I get sick"

From a distance Isabel watched with teary eyes. A soft feeling of happiness engulfed her whole, not letting her give some form of attention to Farlan who clicked his tongue.

"Whatever Farlan, Levi is finally going to get some action for once. It's not like it's interfering with our mission!" Her brows forrowed at his sight. "He likes her, can't you see?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that if you don't actually tell him"

Her eyes harded at what Farlan had said. Of course, she knew Levi would deny ever laying his eyes on anyone but she wanted to be there to watch him experience falling in love, hell even falling out of it. Farlan should plainly accept that Levi is not always going to be hang up from their group. Sticking together even after their time at the military was a given, but wanting to have lovers and relationships now that they could enjoy their lives? Isabel was eagerly excited for it.

She watched you and Levi as you freed your leg from the muddy puddle, flying over by the force you had both been laboring and falling on too of each other, Levi's face was contorted in anger, fumingly red as he tried not to tell at you and she was definite about his feelings towards you.

Outside and laid with his back in the mud, Levi felt startled in a way he hadn't experienced before. He could faintly feel the tips of your breasts on his chest and he guessed you were using cloth binds since the impact wasn't enough to get him beyond a little flustered, but he could admit that this was embarrassing. He was angry, for being muddy that is, god knows just how much he despised mud and the smell of filthy rain but there was something about the way you straddled him and it touched a little flicker inside of him that told him it was alright to be muddy for a few more seconds, as long as he was underneath you. Despite his lack of experience in romantic or tense moments, he only had had sex a few times that he could count on one hand and he had despised each one for being disgustingly filthy, he definitely could sense the electric field in the air around you.

But as soon as the moment occured and you took your glistering eyes off of his, you pushed strength into your arms, digging your palms in the dirt to lift your self up and he was once again his normal self. With a click if his tongue he slipped from underneath you, denying your open hand that seeked to offer him a little help. He wasn't here for a sappy little romantic adventure, he was here to find those documents and kill Erwin, you were merely getting in the way of his brain functioning properly.

[squadrablog]

Would you consider a reader (whatever gender interests you)/Ghiaccio fic? Scenario: he's trying to impress the person he's dating with White Album tricks to varying success. Most Ghiaccio content, regardless of if its reader!fic or not, writes him as abusive, demeaning, or boils him down to angry screaming and nothing else, so it'd be refreshing to see something that's not that!

I have to admit that the use of the word “tricks” really threw me off, but I pieced together some sort of coherent scenario based on the premise. Most of my work went into the other part of your request, because I 100% agree with your thoughts on Ghiaccio’s typical characterization. I hope you like it! (Also this goes for this fic as well as what I’ve written before but I haven’t mentioned it, my use of italics is preserved on Ao3 but not on tumblr. Just a heads up.)

Ghiaccio x They/them Reader (some feminine language used)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Uhhh. None this time as far as I can tell!

Under cut for length!

“So are you going to help or not?” Ghiaccio grumbled under his breath. Formaggio was currently leaned back leisurely in the base’s common room recliner with a smug grin on his face, basking in the rare moment of Ghiaccio’s humility.

“Sorry, sorry,” Formaggio said, finally leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and chin on top of his knuckles. “I just don’t want to forget the time that Ghiaccio came to me for relationship advice.”

Ghiaccio was practically biting down on his tongue to keep from snapping at him, but the truth was Formaggio was the most experienced in the art of romance relative to all his other squadmates and he really was desperate for any help he could get.

What else was he going to do, ask Melone? Yeah, right.

“I just need your help deciphering some shit they said, don’t get a big head about it,” Ghiaccio said, leaning back in his spot on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re better than me at...  people.” It was a tough thing to admit out loud, but Ghiaccio’s social awkwardness was of course no secret to anyone who knew him. For all the talent he had reading people’s intentions in the midst of a battle, when it came to his interpersonal relationships he felt less capable. Of course, that was on other people and their arbitrary social conventions, not him.

But you were different. You said what you meant and spoke in plain language without ulterior meanings or motivations, and you accommodated him and his idiosyncrasies in all the ways that mattered. In fact, you were such a nice change of pace from other people that he tended to overthink everything you said out of habit, projecting hidden meanings where they normally would have existed with others.

“Lay it on me, dude. I’ve gotcha,” Formaggio assured him, his smirk turning into something a bit more cordial and supportive. Ghiaccio let out a deep exhale before talking again.

“We were on a date and I don’t remember what we were even talking about, but they give me this… weird smile,” Ghiaccio began. “And they said ‘Ghiaccio, it’s okay to be more vulnerable around me.’ Said that I could ‘trust them,’ and that if things are going to get any more serious between us they want to see more of the ‘real me.’” He leaned forward as he steepled his fingers. “They know, don’t they?”

“Know what?” Formaggio asked, his eyebrow raised.

“What I do for a living, what else!? They figured it out and now they expect me to say it out loud,” Ghiaccio said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That’s what that means, right? The ‘real me’ they’re talking about?” Formaggio gave a small chuckle and Ghiaccio turned to shoot him a glare. What was so funny about your safety, as well as La Squadra’s, being compromised?

“Dude…” Formaggio said, trying his best to keep a straight face. “You’re fine, chill ou- I mean… calm down.” Ghiaccio mercifully let the original choice of words slide. “If they did know, that’s not how they’d bring it up. No, what they’re trying to tell you is,” Formaggio began, leaning over in the recliner towards the edge of the couch to clap his hand on Ghiaccio’s shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes, “you’re not romantic enough.”

Ghiaccio crinkled his nose at that, but tried to stop himself from getting immediately defensive. “What do you mean exactly?”

“I know you already know this, so don’t freak out if I actually say it, but you’re not exactly… the suavest guy. Or the best at flirting.”

“We’re already together, what do I have to flirt for?” Ghiaccio said, his eyes narrowing.

“See? That’s exactly what I mean! You said they like cute stuff and sweet foods and cuddling right? Someone like that definitely wants you getting a little mushy and lovey-dovey. Everything you say about them makes them out to be this real sweetheart, but the way you say it is always so… technical. So analytical!”

“They say my attention to detail is one of my best qualities,” Ghiaccio protested.

“I don’t doubt it. Look, you’ve got plenty of passion, and based on how much inane shit you know about them that I think they don’t even know about themself, you’re very attentive.” Formaggio might have chosen to say ‘neurotic’ instead, but it was obvious Ghiaccio genuinely loved you and he was trying to compliment him to soften his initial criticisms. “It just sounds like they’re looking for a different side from you as well. The charming heartthrob buried deep within that hard bitter exterior.”

“How is any of that the real me?” Ghiaccio asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Was this really what you had meant? Were you not satisfied by the way he was currently showing his affection? Did the ‘vulnerability’ you talked about really mean you wanted more sappy saccharine schlock?

“It isn’t… yet,” Formaggio said with a wink and a finger gun in his direction. “I’ve got a few ideas though that’ll spark that flame.”

“...I control ice,” Ghiaccio said flatly.

“That you do,” Formaggio said, his eyes twinkling. “That you do.”

---

“Hey, babe,” Ghiaccio said after you opened your front door for him, his posture a bit stiff, one hand behind his back, and his eyes staring at you intensely.

“Babe?” you asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrow. The usage of a nickname was strange enough on its own, but the way he said it was so wooden.

“Does that bother you?” he asked bluntly, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Is there a name you prefer?”

“Whatever comes easiest,” you said with an amused smile.“Which for you is usually just my name, right?”

“I just thought I’d try it out,” he said with a shrug, trying to look unaffected by how you had brought attention to the unnatural way he said it. “Anyway, I got you this.”

Ghiaccio usually never came to your apartment empty handed. Before picking you up for a date he always met you at the door with the intention of handing off whatever he had before the two of you headed out. While they weren’t exactly ‘gifts,’ he always brought exactly what you needed, usually before you had even realized you needed it.

One time he came over and saw that you were low on milk, and the next day before you two headed out he had a gallon in his hand when you opened the door for him. Another time he brought a new lightbulb for the lamp in your living area, and once he replaced the old one you couldn’t believe you had been living in such awful lighting conditions for so long without realizing it. It had been the right wattage, right size, and it even had the LED filaments you liked that gave the light a warm natural texture.

Today he had a box of chocolates. You took the box and gave them a look-over. It clearly wasn’t from a grocery store; they looked expensive. Needlessly so. Sometimes Ghiaccio would spend a little extra on things he knew you really needed or things that you had personally expressed you wanted. You liked chocolates well enough, but they weren’t exactly your favorite, and you were pretty sure he already knew that.

“Fancy,” you murmured. “What’s the occasion?” You smiled up at him, tilting your head to the side. While you of course appreciated the gesture and were not ungrateful to receive free chocolate, it was very out of character for him and you were beginning to get suspicious.

“Do I need an excuse to treat you?” he asked, scratching the back of his head a bit sheepishly.

“I guess not. Thank you very much, Ghiaccio. I really appreciate it.” You said it genuinely, and you gave him one of your sweet smiles that always made him smile back involuntarily. You turned around to head to the kitchen and set them on the counter. “Let me just get my jacket and we’ll head out!” you called back at him.

“The weather is going to be warm today,” Ghiaccio blurted out, a bit too quickly. “I don’t think you’ll need it.” You turned around and your eyes raked over him before you met his gaze again.

“But you need one?”

He was indeed wearing a red athletic jacket, to match his glasses, over his black turtleneck shirt. He turned away from your eyes. “I dressed before I checked,” he mumbled as an excuse.

You supposed it seemed warm enough out, even if you thought you should bring your jacket just in case it got chilly later since the seasons were changing. But that still didn’t give a reasonable explanation for Ghiaccio’s behavior right now. You acquiesced, which seemed to appease him, and headed out with him to his car. You’d ask him what was on his mind once you were on the road.

“Hey, what’s that?” Ghiaccio asked suddenly, pointing to the side as the two of you approached his car in your complex’s parking lot. You followed the direction of his finger before you suddenly lost your footing on a smooth slippery surface, yelping and falling forward towards the asphalt in a mess of flailing limbs.

You were saved, however, by Ghiaccio’s arms catching you as you collided with his chest, awkwardly clutching at him, a bit frazzled by the near-fall.

“Watch your step,” he said, with something playful about his tone. You glanced up and he was giving you what looked like a friendly smile, although it didn’t reach his eyes. Usually if this kind of thing happened he’d be cursing under his breath as he fussed over you, making sure you were alright. While you were glad he wasn’t getting worked up right now, it still stood out as yet another strange change in behavior.

“Thanks…” you breathed out, righting yourself. His arms were wrapped around you just a moment longer than they needed to be, and when he let go you turned around to look at the ground, only to see nothing of interest. “What did I even slip on?”

“I don’t know, but I’m right here if you slip on anything else,” Ghiaccio said, his hand slapping down on your shoulder. You gave him an incredulous look, and a small huff. Now that you actually had time to process it you had to ask yourself what the hell happened. Was that fall somehow on purpose? If you didn’t know Ghiaccio any better you’d think he was just trying to play the dashing hero there. But you did know him better, which is why it didn’t add up.

“I probably wouldn’t have slipped if you hadn’t distracted me,” you asked, your eyes narrowing before you turned back towards the direction he had pointed earlier. “What were you even trying to show me?” It seemed like he didn’t have an explanation ready, fumbling over his words.

“Sorry,” was what he settled on, facing away from your gaze, his cheeks saturated with a bit more red as he looked properly embarrassed. Sorry for what exactly you weren’t entirely sure since it wasn’t an explanation, but you would drop it for the moment, if only to give him the proper time to come up with the right words. Obviously there was something deeper on his mind that was making him act strange, and when that was the case he needed time to reflect before he spoke so it didn’t come out as a frenzied incoherent mess.

It was quiet in the car at first, as he scrunched his eyebrows up while he got lost in thought. Once you had been driving for a bit he finally spoke. “You know I’m committed to this relationship, right?” he asked, his tone wavering just a bit.

You smiled. “Of course I know that. You show me that every time we’re together.”

“But I’ve never said it,” he said, sparing half a second to glance at you before his eyes were back on the road.

“You don’t need to.” You set your elbow down on the center console and turned towards him. “You’ve been really weird since you picked me up. Is everything okay, Ghiaccio?”

He quickly glanced over again and let out a small sigh. “I just want today’s date to be special.”

You gave him a quizzical look, which he couldn’t see, before leaning back in your chair. You hadn’t made any grand plans for today other than going for a walk at the park and getting some dinner together later in the evening, but perhaps Ghiaccio had planned some sort of surprise that he was nervous about? You’d let his weird behavior slide and not prompt him for details for now, as curious as you were, if it meant you were going to get a proper explanation eventually.

---

Ghiaccio knew he was already off to a bad start. Formaggio made it all sound so easy, but it seemed like the more he tried to turn up the charm the more awkward it made things. He hadn’t wanted to orchestrate a situation that would cause you to slip on some ice he summoned with White Album, but Formaggio said that saving you would get you all flustered. You mostly seemed annoyed. Ghiaccio just felt like an asshole.

Why did he spend so much money on chocolates when he could think of a dozen other sweets you’d enjoy way more? Formaggio said chocolates were ‘classic’ and the price tag would show just how thoughtful he was. He had spent so much time trying to find the highest quality chocolate possible that he forgot to pick you up shampoo like he had planned. Last time he was over at your place he noticed your hair smelled different, like the old backup shampoo you used when you ran out of the stuff you liked.

While the two of you took your stroll at the park Ghiaccio was a lot less talkative than usual, trying to split his attention between listening to you and convincing himself to go through with another one of Formaggio’s suggestions.

He slowly began lowering the temperature around the both of you in small increments over the course of your walk so that you wouldn’t notice the change right away, and although he had been uncharacteristically quiet so far he finally spoke up once he saw you shiver.

“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, cutting you off just before you could finish your current sentence, which you were noticeably unhappy about.

“Yeah, a bit actually,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking up at the sky. “Even though it’s really sunny out.”

“Do you want to borrow my jacket?” Ghiaccio asked, already slipping it off himself.

“I wouldn’t need it if you’d let me bring my own,” you said, giving him a peeved look and a half-smile. He awkwardly started to drape the jacket over your shoulders. “But thanks.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in talking as you two walked for a bit before Ghiaccio said: “You look cute,” and after a beat, “In my jacket.”

You just shrugged, turning to give him a halfhearted smirk. “Bright red and sporty isn’t exactly my style.”

Ghiaccio let out an involuntary shiver of his own, not realizing he had unconsciously been letting the temperature continue to drop. You frowned at him before shrugging the jacket off and handing it back to him.

“I don’t need-” he grumbled defensively, but you moved to stand in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. You draped the jacket over his shoulders like he had done to you and then zipped him all the way up before he had even moved to put his arms through the sleeves properly.

“You look cuter in your own jacket,” you said, before walking on ahead while he fumbled with his arms, his cheeks heating up at the predicament you left him in. Once you were a little ways away and out of the range of where he had focused White Album you called back, “I think it’s warming up again, anyway!”

“Get back here, you clown!” he shouted back at you, finally getting his arms where they needed to be. Since that had panned out so poorly, Ghiaccio just called off his stand and jogged ahead until he was back in line with you. All this had managed to do was make him feel like a real jerk for telling you to leave your jacket at home just so he could offer you his. It was so utterly transparent, shamefully so.

“Hm… ‘clown’ sounds much more natural coming out of your mouth than ‘babe,’ does,” you said. You had a bit of a skip in your step that you didn’t have before, and he was glad that getting back at him had improved your mood. His expression softened when you smiled earnestly at him. You bit your lip for a second, looking a bit more hesitant, before you asked: “Are you done trying to be a romcom cliche yet?”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Ghiaccio said with a small scoff. Of course it was. Everything he’d been doing felt so fake in his own mind and body, so there was no way you weren’t seeing right through him. 

“Is it not?” you asked with a quiet laugh, your smile falling just a bit. “Is there something wrong, Ghia?”

God, whenever you called him Ghia he always had a hard time keeping his cool. He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze fixed forward and his jaw set tight, his face starting to match his jacket in color. “No,” he said firmly. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just being stupid.”

You squeezed his hand. He wasn’t big on PDA, and considering the context of everything else you were still unconvinced he was okay. “You don’t have to do things you don’t like just because-” you started, but he squeezed your hand a bit harder than you had to his.

“I’m holding your hand because I want to,” he said, plainly, if not a bit embarrassed. “Getting you chocolates was stupid, you never get chocolates on your own if you have a choice on sweets. Making you leave your jacket at home was stupid, you’re too pragmatic to rely on me to give you one, and too considerate to keep it on while I’m cold. But I’m doing this,” he said while giving your hand a softer squeeze, “because I want to.”

The matter-of-factness of it cleared all your doubts, and you blushed a bit yourself. Ghiaccio knew you very well, and it wasn’t empty flattery or false acts of chivalry that got your heart going. It was things like the systematic way in which he described the things he noticed you liked or that he found attractive about you. Or the way he surprised you with genuine moments of vulnerability like this that you longed to see more of.

The two of you finished out your walk in silence, a comfortable one this time, hand-in-hand.

---

“I do trust you,” Ghiaccio said, a bit of a non-sequitur since it was unprompted by your current topic of conversation. You were both at the restaurant that you had made reservations for, seated at an outdoor table on a rooftop with a nice overlook of Naples. You had your jacket on; Ghiaccio had insisted that the both of you go back to your apartment to pick it up, and now that you were out in the crisp early evening air you were glad. “I need you to know that I do.”

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking of the best way to say what he wanted to say. “But when you said you wanted me to be more vulnerable, what did you mean? Because it obviously wasn’t whatever the fuck I tried doing today.”

“That was your take on ‘vulnerability’?” you asked with a barely restrained laugh.

“No. It was Formaggio’s take,” he clarified, looking off into the distance with a grumpy expression. You had never met Formaggio, but you had heard many stories about the man and his various antics. “He said you wanted me to be more romantic.”

“Maybe? But not if it’s forced and you set up convoluted situations yourself like some sort of jackass chessmaster. I also said I wanted to see the ‘real you’. Where did that factor in?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you took another bite of your meal.

“I don’t know,” Ghiaccio admitted with a groan, poking at his food and scowling.

“When I said I want you to be vulnerable I meant that I want you to do things like… how you held my hand because that’s what you wanted to do, not because you thought you should. Or things like… I’ve seen you happy, and just about everyone has seen you angry, but I’ve never seen you sad, or afraid, or… well, I hadn’t seen you particularly shy before, but I guess you showed me that today, even if you weren’t trying to,” you said with a smirk.

“You don’t need to deal with my bullshit,” Ghiaccio said, looking at you with an unreadable expression. You frowned.

“Ghiaccio, I want to deal with your bullshit, I want you to rely on me! I also want to know more about the person you are on your own, outside this relationship. You’re always so closed off about things like your personal life.”

Ghiaccio looked back at his food with furrowed brows, stabbing at it a little harder and more frequently. “What if you don’t like the ‘real me’?”

“Ghiaccio.” You reached across the table to grab his free hand, but he just scrunched his neck further down into himself, withdrawing like a turtle. “I love you.”

He stared at you blankly, before his fork was clattering to the ground in his frantic attempt to take your hand in both of his. “Are you fucking serious!?” he spat out, causing several other diners to look over at your table. He had been thinking the same thing for a long while now, but he had been too anxious to say it out loud.

“Dead fucking serious,” you confirmed with a big smile.

In that moment he really felt like he could tell you everything. About Passione, about being an assassin, about stands, even about the lofty goals his squad had for taking the whole criminal empire for themselves. And maybe he would, but right now he realized that he was staring at you slack-jawed like an oaf.

“I love you too!” he said, letting go with one of his hands to slap the table to punctuate his next declarations. “So goddamn much, I’m thinking about you all the fucking time, about how much I don’t fucking deserve you, about how beautiful you are, about how you always eat what you like the least first so that you end your meals on the best note possible,” he said, gesturing to your plate of food, the central part of the dish still untouched as you worked on everything else around it. You brought your hand up to hide your growing blush and stifle a giddy chuckle. He would often compliment you, and he would often get worked up, but rarely did he ever get worked up over complimenting you.

“Ghia, you’re going to make a scene,” you said, more for the sake of appearances than anything as the other patrons watched your table. Honestly, you could listen to him shout praises at you all night.

Eventually after he got everything out of his system he was panting a little from the exertion of it all. “How’s that… for vulnerable…?” he asked between exhales.

“It’s an improvement,” you said with a cheeky grin.

“I had one last thing planned for our date, but I wasn’t sure if I should go through with it after everything.” He smiled at you, one of those rare gentle smiles where all the creases in his brow smoothed out. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh?” you asked. So he did have a big surprise planned after all?

You waved a waiter over and after you paid the bill you and Ghiaccio were soon back in his car, driving down unfamiliar streets towards what was for you an unknown destination.

---

“What do you mean ‘closed for repairs’!?” Ghiaccio demanded of the person on the other side of his phone call, trying once again to open the locked doors in front of him. “The lights are on in there and I can see the rink from here! Looks frozen to me!”

After a few more frustrated exchanges on the call he hung up. “Apparently the system is malfunctioning and it’s not safe to skate on it,” Ghiaccio grumbled, pressing his face up against the door of the ice skating rink one more time, watching the various maintenance workers move about, pointedly ignoring the irate blue haired man banging on the front entrance.

“It’s okay, we can do it another time,” you consoled him. “I can’t ice skate anyway.” You had never expressed interest in it before, and while it seemed like a fun thing for a couple to do you weren’t exactly too excited about trying it or too disappointed that you couldn’t.

“We weren’t going to be-” he huffed out before trailing off, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance. “Okay, originally Formaggio had pitched this as another one of his schemes, but I didn’t bring you here to pretend to teach you how to skate while you stumbled around. Instead I was thinking… I wanted to show you something.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Show me what?”

“Look… I’ve got one more idea to make this work out, and if it doesn’t then I’ll tell you. But I really want to show you first if I can. If we head out now it’ll still be light enough,” he insisted, heading back towards the car. You followed after him, your curiosity now piqued.

You two were in the car for a while as you noticed you were getting farther and farther away from the city and out onto the countryside. When you pulled up to a makeshift dirt parking lot at the top of a small hill you realized where you were.

“I used to come to this lake a lot when I was a kid,” you mused quietly. “I hope you aren’t thinking it’s going to be frozen over? It’s way too warm for that.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see,” he said with a smug grin. You just raised an eyebrow at that response. “Can I ask you to stay in the car for a few minutes?”

“Sure…?” you said slowly, watching as he exited the car and disappeared down the side of the hill. Not too much time had passed and he was walking back up the hill and towards the back of the car, popping the trunk then closing it, before eventually coming around to your door. You opened it and let yourself out, noticing that Ghiaccio was holding laces in his hand with a pair of shoes slung it over his shoulder, and based on context those were probably ice skates. Did Ghiaccio really like skating enough to own his own pair? He’d never mentioned it as a hobby before today.

Soon the two of you were trudging through some dense foliage and over to the side of a lake that was inexplicably frozen. You stared at it, wide-eyed.

“What the…?” you muttered, turning towards Ghiaccio with an expression that demanded answers. He offered none, giving you another smug smile before sitting down on a rock. “How did you know it was going to be… it hasn’t even snowed yet this year!”

“I’ll tell you later tonight, if you really want to know,” he said. And he meant it. But right now there was something else he wanted to show you. “But I didn’t bring you here for the lake.”

You were able to suspend your incredulity for his sake, though it wasn’t easy. After the shock of the lake had fizzled out a little you watched him take the very nice, if not a little bit worn down, pair of ice skates in his hands. He slipped off the shoes he was currently wearing and slid his feet into the skates, lacing them up, while you watched him in silence.

“So you’re going to skate… by yourself?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “And I’m just going to do what, watch?”

“That’s the idea,” he said, finishing up and standing himself upright, maneuvering to the lake’s edge, and before you could complain he shot you one last look, a genuine smile, before he pushed himself onto the ice.

Your boyfriend didn’t share a lot of things with you, but you were surprised that he never saw fit to mention the fact that he was apparently a professional Olympic-level figure skater. Your initial shock at the state of the lake was completely forgotten as you watched him dance across the ice with a level of precision and grace that you had never expected from the man.

And he was pulling out all the stops to show off for you. Spinning in the air, skating low and practically parallel to the ground, skating backwards, skating on one leg with the other poised far behind him in the air. Every jump he made looked too risky, too intense to possibly land smoothly, but as you stood mesmerized you could almost swear that the ice raised up to meet him each time.

After his initial bout of tricks, he skated back over to you and his face looked more relaxed and content than you had ever seen it. “Impressed?” he asked with a confident lilt to his voice.

“Ghia… you’re incredible,” you said, still in a daze. “Why didn’t you tell me you skated?”

“Because I don’t,” he said, his posture tensing a bit, his expression almost embarrassed. “Not anymore. I’m banned from every major figure skating organization in Italy.”

“Oh my God, what happened?” you muttered, finally snapping back to reality and looking up at him with concerned eyes.

“Scandals. Sabotage. None of it helped by my temper,” he grumbled. “It’s this whole big fucking complicated nightmare that I don’t want to talk about right now.” He gestured for you to come meet him at the edge of the lake, and you stepped forward, taking your hands in his as he held them out. “But I loved figure skating. It was the best time of my life, before I met you, and I’m tired of pretending that time never existed. Even if all I can do now is share it with you, then that’s still something.”

“Oh, Ghiaccio, it’s okay” you cried out, your tone consoling, wrapping your arms around him in a firm hug, causing him to stumble a bit on his skates. “I love you so much. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me. I love you, I love you!”

“I get it, I get it, I love you too, you’re going to push me over!” he yelled, trying to pry you off of him. Eventually you released him and stepped back to flash him a tender smile, tears threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes. “What are you crying for?” he muttered, looking away from your intense expression.

“You were crying first!” you shot back, your tears finally flowing. Ghiaccio brought his hand up to his face and realized that he had indeed been gently weeping for a while and it had gone completely unnoticed by him. He huffed before turning around and skating away. “Don’t you skate away from your feelings, Mister!” you called after him.

You watched him skate for some time, seeing him getting lost in his own world out on the lake, chasing after something he thought he’d left behind. He was beautiful. Utterly beautiful. The whole night had been magic, the impossible frozen lake something from another realm. Eventually it got too dark to see properly before the both of you headed up the hill to the car, hand-in-hand.

[leotssukinaga]

And They Were Pining

Yaku Morisuke x Reader

Anon requested:  can i request something for yaku? fluffy with mutual pining please? Word Count: 1787 A/N: This was the only title I could think of. I’ve been awake way too long. No thoughts head empty just Yaku. I don’t know if he’s in character. I tried

"Hey, Y/N!" You turn to see a certain libero- one you hold very close to your heart- jogging to catch up with you. "Yaku! Hey, what's up?" "Lev ran away again, we're trying to find him.""Oh, have you tried the drama room? Drama club doesn't run on Wednesdays, sometimes he hides there." "I swear you're like a Lev wrangler." You giggle at the suggestion, smiling softly at him. "We missed you at practice yesterday, you know."  You're sort of like the teams unofficial manager, never quite committing to the role but fulfilling the duties nonetheless. "You did?" "Yeah. It's nice having you there- feels weird when you're not." You couldn't hear the words that sat between the ones he uttered, the I like having you around, the when I don't see you I end up thinking about you all day. You had no reason to suspect his affections for you. He was the opposite of subtle, but if you'd ever had an inkling, you'd brushed it aside as wishful thinking, thinking Yaku would never feel that way about you. This could not be further from the truth. "As soon as my physics project is in I'll be back, promise. That's where I'm headed now, my WiFi clapped out so I'm gonna see if I can finish it in the library." "The library WiFi is less likely to be working than yours is." Your laugh sends sparks through his veins, and the walk ends far too soon as you reach the door of the drama room. "I hope you find Lev in there, I'll see you tomorrow? Lunch? Just us?" "I can't wait." He couldn't, he wanted to spend every second he had with you. You pat his shoulder, setting the area on fire, before adjusting the strap on your bag and making your way to the library. He doesn't know why he didn't offer to help you with physics. He seems to forget how to think when you're around. He sighs, wishing he could apply the same confidence he had on the court to asking you out, and pushes the door to the drama room open. Lev yelps in surprise. Busted.

Lunch with Yaku the next day turns, unsurprisingly, into lunch with most of the team, because apparently not one of those boys understands the concept of minding their own business (except for Kenma, he got dragged over by Kuroo.) You don't know whether it's a blessing or a curse, since an hour alone with Yaku would almost certainly mean you'd embarrass yourself in some way- thereby solidifying yourself as nothing but a friend in his mind- but the chaos that follows the others means you don't get as much chance to talk to him, no matter how you both try. Not long after their arrival he leans over to you, intending to get close enough that he can apologise for their behaviour without them hearing, when Lev- doing God knows what- stumbles into him, pushing him forward, directly into you. His mouth that had been close to your ear lands on your cheek in what looks and feels very much like a kiss, and the next second Lev is being kicked. It's hard to tell whether Yaku is pink with anger or embarrassment. It's rather more obvious which one applies to you. The next apology is louder, and he refuses to look at you as he says it. You assume he's embarrassed because he doesn't like you, while every other person with mildly effective eyesight can tell it's because he does.He's still sitting next to you, and while you're doing everything you can not to look at him, he can't take his eyes off of you. There's still a faint dusting of pink across your cheeks, and you're  chewing on your lip like you usually do when you're nervous. He can't keep the smile off of his face as he watches you, and the others really don't know how you haven't noticed his crush on you. He wouldn't know subtlety if it hit him in the face. 

You're back to watching practice on Monday, and it would be difficult to miss the way his face lights up when you walk into the gym. Apparently, it's also hard to miss his face with the volleyball, which Yamamoto discovers moments after you walk in. (It's definitely Yaku's fault, he was utterly distracted by you, but he still yells at the second year.)You're the first person to rush to his side the second he hits the ground, and the only person he listens to when you insist that he come sit down until his nose stops bleeding. You've seen him get hit in the face plenty of times before, but you're still worried, and hold out a hand to help him up. The blood is not the only thing on his face that's red, but the blush doesn’t last long. It turns out in the aftermath nobody noticed that he fell backwards at an odd angle, not even him. That is, until he takes your hand and begins to stand, letting out a yelp as he falls back down. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" "Think I twisted my ankle." "Shit. Hey Kuroo, you're strong, can you help me carry him?" "You don't need to carry me, I'm fine." "You can't stand, Yaku. Do as you're told." He'll never tell you that the tone of voice you use sends a shiver down his spine. Once he's on the bench, he feels a little guilty as you examine his ankle carefully, it really doesn't hurt that bad and you're being so gentle with him that it makes his heart thud. "I think you’ve sprained it. You did fall at a really weird angle. I'm gonna bandage it up just in case, okay?" "I don't nee-" "When are you gonna learn to listen to me?" "That is never gonna happen." The smile you send his way is soft and amused. He could almost forget the pain in his ankle when you look at him like that. Almost. "Ah, that hurt." "Sorry, I'll be a little gentler. How's your nosebleed?" "I think it's stopped." "There's a plus, then. All done." You pat his knee as you stand up, smiling at him. "See, this is why we need you at practice." "And here I thought you just liked having me around." "Well, there's that too."

Two weeks later, you're pulled into an empty classroom on your way to practice. You spin around to see Kuroo taking a seat on the nearest desk. "Kuroo what the fu-" "I have a question for you." "And that requires kidnapping me?" "Relax, whats a little light kidnapping between friends?" "Just ask me your question." "D'you like Yaku?" "Well, he is my best friend." "You know that's not what I mean. When you daydream in class does your mind wander to our darling libero?" "I- that's... why would you? He's- Yaku is my friend! How could you- you're trying to throw me off, aren't you? Maybe you're the one who likes him and you're projecting? Huh?" You don't even give him time to look surprised before you run out of the room. That was potentially the stupidest moment of your life, and your outburst most certainly gave Kuroo the answer he was looking for. You let out a groan as you stopped running, sliding down the nearest wall and placing your head on your knees. It wasn't long before someone sat next to you. "So... how long have you liked him?" "I hate you." "I didn't ask about me." "Last year, I guess." "You ever thought about telling him?" "You ever thought about combing your hair?" "Shut up." He pushes you gently, causing you to laugh. "You should tell him, though." "Yeah, when I'm 93 and about to die."" You're far too stubborn to die that young." "My mom said that to me once." "Tell him." "We're late to practice." You attempt to stand, but he grabs your bag before you can walk away. "I'll let you go if you agree to confess." "I'll consider it. Final offer." "Alright." When Yaku waves at you when you arrive, your cheeks flush more than usual. Maybe telling him wouldn't be so bad, even if he does reject you.

You're walking around campus aimlessly when he finds you, clearly lost in thought about something. "Hey, Y/N." He falls into stride beside you, matching your pace. "Oh, hey Yaku." You don't look at him. You decided 2 weeks ago to confess to him, but every time you try you pussy out. Even looking his way sent you through a haze of anxiety and embarrassment, so you've done your best to avoid him. It hurts both of you. "Is everything okay?" "Of course! Why wouldn't it be?" "I don't know you seem... distant. I miss you." "Things are fine, Yaku." "You're not mad at me?" "I'm not mad at you." You finally steel yourself to look him in the eye, offering him a sweet smile. He really doesn’t look like he believes you. "Have I ever lied to you?" "Well if you have, you're good enough at it that I don’t know... Have you?" "No. Not to you. Although, technically, I have lied about you." "Wait, what? When?" "Uh, Lev asked me a couple weeks ago if I had a crush on anyone. I told him I didn't." You were really about to do this. If only your heart would shut up for 3 seconds. "How does that have anything to do with me?" "Because...it’s you. I have a crush on you, Yaku." He stopped moving, almost stopped breathing. Did you just say- is he dreaming? "Oh Christ, I really shouldn't have said that. I'm just gonna go lie in a river." "Wait." You turn back to face him, chewing your lip anxiously. "I have a crush on you, too." Suddenly, your confidence rushes back and you lean in close to him. "Oh? Then what are you gonna do about it?" He doesn't quite think in the split second between the end of your sentence and his lips meeting yours, doesn't quite register exactly what he's doing. Not until you pull back and rush off like he hadn't just kissed you. "Wait, why are you running? You confess to me, I kiss you, and you run away? That’s not how this works!" Neither of you see two of your friends watching, Kuroo with a delighted smirk and Kenma with his usual bored expression. When the two of you walk into practice the next day, hand in hand, they're the first to cheer. (Kenma's is quiet and sounds disinterested, but you know it’s heartfelt anyway.)

taglist: @tremendousglitterthing​ @svtbitch​ @the-fandom-ness​

[the-beskar-alchemist]

Here we go again with my recap ramblings! Had to do a bit of nip/tuck for this one, it’s a bit lengthy.

My opinions, as I've stated before, are based on my limited knowledge of the Star Wars universe. I have NOT seen anything outside of the movie franchise, so please bear with me...

- First off I would like to express my appreciation for this episode going balls-to-the-wall with Ashoka, instead of spending an unnecessary amount of time working towards her introduction. Considering we spent two episodes just GETTING to her, the fact that it was like "BAM! There she is!" was very refreshing.

- Also I would like to thank Filoni for establishing her badassery UP FRONT, instead of having her do some sort of "Surprise! These are my special skills!" maneuver. The concept hit home on the first try, and it hit HARD.

- I know people are iffy with Rosario Dawson (I'm not that caught up on her to know the details myself), but she does bring a certain......presence, I guess......to this episode, but just as the character, not really HER specifically.  She seems more powerful when she's silent, versus when she speaks, her portrayal of the dialogue seems kinda monotone for my taste honestly. (I think it's worth mentioning that, while I understand people wish for Ashley, it would involve "black face" makeup on some levels to achieve Ashoka's skin-tone, I don't think it would've worked, no matter how skilled the makeup artists are)

- The ghastly forest makes me think of the lighting technique they used for The Half Blood Prince film

- As I've said, I have not seen the Clone Wars series, so I'm not familiar with Ashoka's animated fighting techniques, but I do love how practical she is with the lightsabers in a dark setting, turning them off to avoid too much attention, and only turning them back on right when she's ready to attack to really take her enemies off guard

- Din narrating to the baby has me in my feels a bit, this dude is really going through the motions isn't he? He's trying so hard to keep it together, acting like he's fine that his whole world is about to change in a way he's not fully prepared to handle.

- Can we take a moment to discuss how observant the baby is? He may not know about circuitry to help with ship maintenance, but he has the wherewithal to know when he's headed to a place that's potentially harmful. Episode 7 in season 1, when Din mentions going back to Nevarro? The baby immediately tries to adjust the ships trajectory to avoid going to a place of which his only memories consist of him being experimented on and possibly almost killed. And NOW? Now he recognizes that the name of the planet Din is taking him to will be where they separate, so OF COURSE his first instinct is to, not only avoid leaving Din's side at the pilot's seat, but to also seek out one of the few tangible objects that brings him comfort: THE METAL BALL FROM THE LEVER........baby boi is so smart, we do not give him enough credit

- Baby REALLY didn't want to leave his papa.......also DIN LET HIM KEEP THE BALL PLS

- Din walking through the town reminded me of the Two Towers when the party arrived at Rohan and Gimli was like "You'll find more cheer in a graveyard"

- I have to wonder what was going through Din's mind upon seeing the prisoners in the electric cages. I'm sure he was disgusted, but everything presented in this series is VERY deliberate, ergo Din was meant to see this to IMMEDIATELY establish that this magistrate was someone he wouldn't want to be allied with, a feat that could've been established with the intro into the town alone, but it seems that the best way to really drive home just how terrible these people are is voyeurism.

- The town versus inside the magistrates gated home? Night and day. The contrast is intriguing, how "dead" the town looks but inside the second gate there's life, somewhat flourishing.

- If Din KNEW that the magistrate was referring to Ashoka, than he basically tricked her into helping him find her under the guise of making a deal. If not, than he figured it out during their first fight upon seeing how she maneuvered around him. Either way, we stan one smart cookie.

- Lang reminds me of Number Two from the Austin Powers series

- BATU BATU BATU BATU

- I love the fact that Din is including the baby in his bounty hunting process, not just telling him they've reached the coordinates, but also letting him know to start looking, IT'S BRING YOUR SON TO WORK DAY......(but like EVERYday for him tho.....)

- Okay but like LOGICALLY I KNEW THAT BESKAR CANNOT BE DAMAGED BY A LIGHTSABER BUT MY HEART STOPPED FOR A SECOND

- DIN PACING LIKE A NERVOUS DAD IN THE DOCTORS OFFICE, POOR BABY

- I have to wonder how the baby "talks" via the Force, is it full "sentences"? Clipped "sentences"? Or is it kinda like Renesmee from Twilight where she "inserted" visuals into another person's head? I know they can "feel" each other's thoughts, but I've always wondered exactly HOW they "feel" them...

- I understand people are a little put-off by the lekku, and that cosplayers have done it "better", but we have to remember that cosplayers aren't doing (multiple) fight scenes, the head-piece has to be practical in its design, as well as authentic. There are stunt-doubles, and having to create multiple versions that not only can withstand constant movement, but also won't break easily. Not to mention when you try to do a live-action based off an animated series, it almost ALWAYS looks "wrong" on some levels (live-action anime? it's awkward af, no matter how hard you try...)

- About the Grogu controversy: I'm on the fence, but will most likely come to love/appreciate the name. Is it within the realm of what I was expecting? Nope. Is it possible that we are ALL projecting our own ideas of what name the baby "should" have had, so much so that almost ANY name they would've given him would've sounded "wrong"? VERY distinctive possibility......this is Star Wars after all, names are meant to sound "weird".  Grogu sounds like a Star Wars kind of name, in fact it's kinda fitting for a species that looks reptilian-ish

- THE BABY HEARING DIN SAY HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME, THE WHIPLASH IN THAT HEAD-TURN, BUT LIKE.....I love the slight parallels to Grogu's and Din's name-arc: They both went DECADES without hearing their own names, and the reveal's are so contrasting, Din hears his name during a time when he's in danger, the baby hears his while having a heart-to-heart. I'm curious about how Din was feeling in this moment, thinking about how long Grogu must've gone without hearing his own name, and how Din longs to have someone say HIS name with an almost reverent tone

- YODA NAME-DROP.....but also Grogu looked at Ashoka when she said the name, I wonder if he knew Yoda

- Some people have mentioned Ashoka's lekku not being long enough for her age, I'm wondering if they compensated with the "wrinkles" in it? Can lekku have wrinkles?

- Grogu trying to be good for his papa, but also NOT wanting to use his powers because he KNOWS it would mean that papa has to leave him (and Din's little head tilt to get him to cooperate) I JUST....I CAN'T

- Ashoka telling Din to connect with Grogu, and Din shifting around all like "LOOK ITS BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO LEAVE MY SON WITH YOU, CAN YOU NOT MAKE THIS HARDER FOR ME???"

- FATHER AND SON GAME OF CATCH AND DIN'S EXCITEMENT WHEN GROGU CAUGHT THE METAL BALL, MY OVARIES CANNOT TAKE THIS MUCH FLUFF

- Subtle Anakin reference, given what happened to the younglings after he went dark, it's a good thing Grogu was taken.......but by WHO???

- Din calling the lightsabers "laser swords" and Ashoka's little grin like, she WANTED to correct him, but she was enjoying Din's dorkyness???

- Din trusted her enough to let her borrow his pauldron??? I HAD A MOMENT

- DIN GUNSLINGER DJARIN

- Did my eyes fucking DECEIVE ME?? DID ASHOKA CUT THE SPEAR IN HALF????? Like this is the second time I'm watching this, the first time I noticed it I was like "No fucking WAY", but I'm seeing it AGAIN, IT WASN'T A TRICK OF THE EYE....so beskar is only lightsaber RESISTANT??

- Lang vs Din was like Johnny Ringo vs Doc Holliday, "You're no daisy!"

- More name-dropping. Did Ashoka kill Elsbeth? They never show her after the exchange.

- Din could've jetpacked his way back to the ship, but chose to walk instead. The way he avoids actually waking up Grogu at first, holding him for a bit, then taking the time to get him ready. Din baby who are you fooling? You're not ready, and you never will be.

- DIN STICKING HIS FINGERS OUT TO LET GROGU HOLD HIS HAND

- Ashoka knows okay?? She KNOWS that Din and Grogu are meant to stay together

- Din calling out Ashoka for trying to weasel out of the deal vs calling out Bo-Katan for changing the deal: No malice in his voice, he barely put up a fight, then sounded relieved after she gave him an alternative, one that could lead to the baby deciding NOT to become like the Jedi and instead choosing to remain with this buir

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Neverending Story

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language 

Summary: Y/N met her husband unexpectedly, and their subsequent relationship has been anything but predictable. But Changbin has always agreed to give Y/N whatever she wanted, but that is suddenly put to the test when Y/N takes things a step too far.

Note: The Holy Trinity of 3racha Married AUs is complete. @lordseochangbin​ I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you, but this is the fic inspired by that gifset from earlier this week.

Han Jisung had promised me a substantial raise, but after looking out over the podium to appraise the crowd of rich businessmen, I suddenly regretted ever agreeing to work for him in the first place. Because my boss was currently lying in his fancy upstate apartment dying of the flu while I was standing in his place with cue cards in hand to deliver an eloquent speech to a bunch of men who would probably laugh at my expense. But let’s also not forget to mention the fact that I’ve always been extremely introverted which meant that public speaking equated to sweat-drenched palms and the nervous sway to my gait as I rocked back and forth on my feet with hands behind my back.

 “Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, wincing when my voice echoed over the speakers. Apparently, the audio feedback in this ballroom was something out of the early 20th century before people had figured out how to work a sound system. “On behalf of Mr. Han,” I said, resisting the urge to lick away the last remnants of my cheap lipstick. “He would like to thank everyone for their support with his new summer project.”

A light smattering of applause, probably from those arrogant benefactors who liked to come into the office to kiss Jisung’s ass and compliment him on all of his successes. They didn’t mean a single word of the bullshit spewing from their mouths, especially the women who openly gaped at him right in front of my desk. “In regards to the company’s s-stocks,” I said, stuttering over the word while fumbling with my notecards. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this nervous, mind working a mile a minute as I tried to desperately compose myself.

And because everything was already progressing this poorly, I started to lose my grip on the stack of notecards aiding my speech, watching as they fell to the ground and spread completely out of order. I immediately dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the notecards back into my grasp before inwardly cursing Han Jisung for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. I managed to collect the notecards together on top of the podium before gazing out into the unamused collection of wealthy aristocrats. “I’m sure it had something to do with fourth-quarter profits,” I said while clearing my throat. “Thank you for coming.”

I rushed off the stage without another word, drenched in sweat and failure, determined to make it out of the building before someone else could comment on the unfortunate incident. It reminded me of a similar calamity involving my asshole of an ex-boyfriend who had left me high and dry at one of his seminars to apologize to the people who paid to see his lecture. Why were the men in my life always determined to embarrass me?

With rapid steps, I was nearly out the door before an unfamiliar hand wrapped itself around my wrist. I paused with a wince, turning around to look at the rather handsome gentleman who was waiting patiently behind me. “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, assuming he must have something to do with the event. I’m sure he was not pleased with my humiliating display, especially when tonight's proceedings had been touted as a professional gathering. “Mr. Han couldn’t make it tonight and I was trying to fill in for him. Please don’t let this reflect badly on the company.”

A smirk graced his sharp features. “Don’t apologize. I thought it was great.”

“Excuse me?”

“The speech was great,” the man continued, dark hair falling into his eyes like a curtain. He let go of my wrist before offering me a more professional greeting. “Seo Changbin.”

“Seo?” I repeated, searching my mind for any mention of that name. I dealt with a lot of rich men when it came to scouring the city for potential leads, sorting through dozens of profiles every day I walked into the office. Usually with a cup of coffee in hand because Jisung wouldn’t be able to function otherwise.

“I own a line of hotel chains,” Changbin nodded. “Does that sound more familiar?”

His tone was teasing. “I do remember now, Mr. Seo.”

“Ah, don’t call me that,” he insisted. “You don’t have to put on an act like the others.”

I smiled at his easy-going nature. “Well, I’m glad you were at least entertained by my speech.”

Changbin glanced up at the door behind me. “Were you leaving already?”

I followed his gaze, albeit more hesitantly now. “I was planning to.”

“Good,” Changbin said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leaned in closer. “Mind if I join you?”

I was flushed for an entirely new reason now. “I would be honored.”

Han Jisung was the greatest employer in the world, and I would do everything in my power to serve as his PA in the future. Because I would owe Jisung a million heartfelt expressions of gratitude for asking me to deliver a speech in his absence. Leading me to one of the most gorgeous men I had ever met since the insanely attractive graduate student who served as a TA for my college writing seminar.

But it was hard to think about Jisung, or anything rational for that matter when my legs were practically bent at my chest, lungs devoid of oxygen while Seo Changbin proceeded to fuck me into the mattress. It was a really nice mattress too, compliments of the fancy hotel suite he had reserved for the weekend. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was a very wealthy man who had way too many muscles and a cock that stretched the sensitive walls of my pussy with every subsequent thrust deep inside to the point where it felt like he was spearing me against the bed. 

Not that I minded in the slightest as I ran my hands down the smooth contours of his back, moaning loudly against his shoulder. It was completely unfair for someone to look this good, and I had nearly lost my mind when he had crawled between my legs, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt to reveal an upper-body straight out of the Men’s Health magazine. Because fate had deemed me fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fuck someone who belonged in my erotic fantasies, dick heavy on my tongue as I blew him under the desk in his office. 

“Changbin,” I groaned, thighs trembling from their current position. 

“You’re cumming, aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked in a raspy voice thick with lust and an irresistible baritone.

“Yes,” I managed around a gasp because Changbin had started to thumb across my clit with practiced movements, intentions perfectly clear as he leaned back to watch the way my back arched towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since someone had made me cum like that and I was still high from the effects of my orgasm while Changbin chased his release with several more slow grinds in exaggerated succession before filling the condom with a grunt.

I was fighting for air, sweat dripping from my bangs as Changbin fell onto the bed next to me. “How long have you been working out?”

Changbin chuckled. “Since high school.”

“It really shows,” I said, twisting my head to the side because I couldn't get enough of his firm biceps.

Changbin reached across the bed, fingers sliding through his cum dripping from the folds of my labia. “I haven’t asked for your number yet, Y/N.”

My entire body lit with excitement at his words because there was a very obvious intention in such an innocent comment. It meant that Changbin wanted to see me again, and I would give absolutely anything to feel his cock sliding in and out at his own luxury. Of course, there would be a lot of things he would come to ask me for in the future and very rarely would I ever tell him no, especially once he slipped a gorgeous diamond ring onto my finger.

I would also come to learn that there are few things my husband cannot resist in this world and the opportunity to fuck me over the kitchen counter was definitely one of them. I rarely woke up early enough to cook breakfast, so on the rare chance that I managed to obey my alarm clock, I would trudge into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Changbin’s college t-shirts to pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge. It was the least I could do for my husband since he was always the more romantic one in our relationship.

Lured by the smell of coffee and bacon, Changbin found me in the kitchen, twisting my shirt around my waist to push his cock deep inside. Bracing my elbows against the rough marble of the countertop, I did my best to spread my legs wide for him because nothing felt better in the morning than Changbin fucking me from behind, fingers digging bruises into the skin of my hip bones. “Where did this come from?” I gasped because Changbin had figured out how to roll his hips just right to grind my clit against the side of the worn surface. 

“When you walk around the apartment wearing nothing but a shirt,” Changbin said, growling at my ear. “I have to fuck you like the little slut you want to be.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” I smirked, receiving a firm smack on my ass for my sarcastic question.

“Is that what you want?” Changbin asked, encouraged by my loud moans. 

“What if I showed up to your office dressed like this?”

“You better not,” he grumbled, hands sliding up my shirt to squeeze my breasts. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Greedy,” I moaned, pushing back against him because I was desperately chasing a good orgasm.

“It’s your fault,” Changbin said, picking up the pace once he started detecting the familiar signs of my impending release. But at this point in time, we knew everything about one another’s bodies. And Changbin always managed to hit even deeper, reaching further and further inside with every aggressive meeting of our hips, the lewd sounds mingling with our moans.

“I was feeling particularly horny this morning,” I replied, finally letting go after a strategic thrust that snapped the chord anchoring me to reality. Changbin followed soon after, grinding his cock as he rode out his own orgasm. And despite my oversensitivity, Changbin ignored my whines and shoved his cum back where it belonged. 

“Alright, Mrs. Seo,” he said, chuckling at the sluggish way I pulled myself back onto my feet, shirt falling back into place. “Will you shower with me before I go to work?”

“What about breakfast?”

“I guess I’ll just have you instead,” he said and I grimaced at the cheesy comment.

Jisung was always late in the mornings, but he could get away with it because nobody would criticize the CEO. But his status didn’t mean that Minho, Jisung’s closest advisor, was any less of a nuisance when he complained to anyone who would listen. Which was often me because my desk was located right next to Jisung’s office. “It’s like he doesn’t care,” Minho whined.

I nodded my head slowly, focused on responding to the emails flooding my inbox. “He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Minho immediately opposed. “He’s just lazy! I get up every morning at the crack of dawn to come into the office. Why can’t he do the same?”

I glanced up wearily to reply because Minho was probably expecting me to agree with everything he was saying. Graciously, I was relieved of that unnecessary burden when I saw Seungmin walking in our direction. “Minnie!”

I waved him down desperately and he offered me a smile with his cell phone in hand. “Y/N,” he said, handing me the device from over the counter, blatantly ignoring a sour Minho. “My dog had her puppies.”

I immediately cooed at the sight of the tiny little Dalmations, squealing at the sight of their tiny ears. “Seungmin, they’re adorable!”

The younger boy grinned. “You know you’d be the first person on my list since I’m looking for new homes.”

“I don’t know, Seungmin,” I said, reluctantly returning his phone. “Changbin would be really mad if I brought home a dog.”

“Changbin? Mad at you?” Seungmin scoffed. “That’s impossible, Y/N.”

“Changbin gives you whatever you want,” Minho added as if unable to resist jumping into our conversation.

“But not this,” I said. “One time, I thought it might be nice to bring home a fish for the apartment, but when Changbin saw it on the coffee table, he complained for hours about how gross they were. If I even mention a dog, Changbin immediately changes the subject.”

“Well, I guess it never hurts to ask,” Seungmin said with a shrug. “But they really do need new homes. They’ll be old enough in a few weeks to leave their mother.”

“Don’t try to talk me into this,” I said, shooting him a glare. “You know I have a weak resolve.”

“What if you at least come over this afternoon to see them?” Seungmin asked as if blatantly ignoring my last demand.

“Can I come too?” Minho asked. “You know how boring it gets around here.”

“As long as you can at least pretend you might take one,” Seungmin said. “I’m sure your cats would be thrilled.”

“My cats are angels,” Minho said. “They would love a new friend.”

“To torment,” I said. “Won’t they get jealous when you give the puppy all of your attention?”

“My babies know how to share,” Minho replied. “They were taught well.”

“I’d hate to see you as a teacher,” Seungmin said, receiving a glare in response.

The conversation ended there, but the subject remained a heavy point of focus for the remainder of the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the puppies, finding myself distracted during the most menial of tasks. I even managed to completely ignore Jisung’s greeting because I was so lost in my thoughts. Subsequently, my boss had stood at the front of my desk to snap his fingers in my line of vision. “Y/N?”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized immediately, blushing because I knew I should be focused on my work.

And I knew that agreeing to visit Seungmin’s puppies would definitely be a horrible idea. The minute they looked at me with adorable button noses and innocent eyes, I would be breaking down and demanding to have one for myself. I knew this would happen, but I still tortured myself and drove with Seungmin back to his apartment, falling in love a dozen times over with each and every single puppy who subsequently chewed on my frayed sandals or plopped themselves right in the middle of my lap. “You’ve ruined me,” I told Seungmin because there was no way I wasn’t bringing home a puppy and that only meant trouble. 

Changbin absolutely hated the idea of pets and had repeatedly denied me every time we walked past a pet shelter or saw a dog during our walks through the park. I could never understand why he was so adamantly opposed, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that he was an obsessive clean freak who liked everything in his life to be controlled. Puppies were a factor one simply couldn’t plan for and they tended to possess destructive tendencies, especially when it came to the things they really believed were toys instead of expensive shoes.

“I’ll call you when you can pick one up,” Seungmin said, following me to the door of his apartment. 

“What am I doing?” I groaned loudly, pointing an accusing finger in Seungmin’s direction. “I’m holding you personally accountable.”

Seungmin offered me a grin. “Tell Changbin to call me.”

Eight weeks later, I chose a strategic day when I knew Changbin would be coming home late from work because of a board meeting. Subsequently, I snuck the small Dalmatian puppy upstairs into our apartment, holding tight to its wriggling body before she immediately made her presence known the moment I put her down on the floor. “Don’t pee there,” I said, ushering her away from the pricey carpet Changbin had bought for the foyer.

My plan was to hide her in the guest bathroom, praying that she would keep from barking too loudly when Changbin came home. “Changbin’s going to kill me,” I thought to myself while opening the door for the excited puppy who ran inside to smell the low hanging duvet with curiosity. 

Changbin rarely raised his voice around me, and I could only think of a few incidents where Changbin and I had truly fought. Most of the time, it was because of his mother who quite simply hated the idea of her son being with someone who didn’t come from money. There was also the issue of me working for Jisung because Changbin would prefer it if I stayed at home, but that definitely wasn’t happening. I stood my ground against him, making my case until he had reluctantly relented, muttering something about how he had enough money to take care of both of us.

However, in neither of those cases had I ever went behind Changbin’s back to do something that I knew he would hate. Of course, I had also never wanted something as bad as the adorable puppy who had stolen my heart the minute she first wagged her tail while I carefully stroked the soft fur of her ears. “Changbin will understand,” I said to the puppy who cocked her head to the side as she watched me. “For now you can stay in here until I think of a better way to introduce you.”

Bang Chan was one of those people who never acted like he had enough money to buy the entire city of New York. He was funny and laid back, laughing with everyone despite whether or not they were a big donor or just an employee. He was one of Changbin’s best friends and he always invited the two of us to his parties at his extravagant condo. As an invitation-only affair, Chan’s parties had become the envy of anyone who was denied the opportunity to attend. More often than not, the parties became a friendly get-together which meant that some of Changbin’s other friends would also be attending. But Hyunjin and Felix always drank way too much beer to be considered appropriate for what was deemed a “suit and tie only” event.

“You look gorgeous,” Changbin said as we waited outside the door. 

“Well, it’s hard not to look good in this dress,” I said because, despite my refusal, Changbin had insisted on buying it for me. Then again, I still wasn’t quite used to watching Changbin pull out his credit card for something that cost nearly half a million dollars. 

“Aren’t you glad I bought it?” Changbin asked, reaching over to finger the delicate lace outlining the dress’ neckline.

“I’ll be even more satisfied when you take it off later,” I said casually, smirking at his sharp inhale as the door suddenly opened to reveal Chan standing on the other side.

“You’re late!” he lightly chastised us, pulling Changbin inside by the hand with more force than necessary. I grinned at the affectionate display, removing my jacket for the server who waited next to the entryway adorned in an elegant suit. “How was the meeting?” Chan asked, making easy conversation as he led us to a nearby waiter holding a tray of flutes filled with champagne. 

“They liked the presentation,” Changbin replied, handing me a glass. “I think some of the new trustees favored the last approach.”

“Of course they do,” Chan nodded. “But you know that you can do whatever you want. It’s impossible to satisfy everyone.”

“I know,” Changbin said, curling an arm around my waist to keep me close to his side. Not that I minded considering the sea of unfamiliar faces who all swarmed to Changbin like he was a celebrity. I guess in their world he was, but it might be funny to tell them about how soft he got after I jerked him off under the sheets. 

You see, Chan was the general manager of Changbin’s largest hotel and he always did his best to ease the burden that Changbin took responsibility for as he oversaw dozens of hotels and thousands of employees. Felix and Hyunjin also helped where they could, not just as friends but as personal assistants to Changbin at the main office. And I happen to know from experience that nobody made a better cup of coffee than Hwang Hyunjin. 

Felix was also dating one of my best friends who I had introduced him to while Changbin and I were still dating, inviting a plus one for the grand opening of his very first hotel expansion. I was surprised when Felix demonstrated just how loving he could be because Changbin often told me horror stories of Felix’s more play boyish tendencies back when they went to college together. However, Felix had been nothing but polite and loving towards my friend since the moment the two first met over a few too many glasses of wine.

“Rina,” I smiled warmly, graciously accepting her invitation to talk outside on Chan’s balcony because the party was suffocating inside. 

“Let me see the pictures!” my friend squealed, practically jerking the cell phone from my grasp. “Cute!” Rina declared, scrolling through my camera roll. “And Changbin doesn’t know? I really do admire you.”

“Well, if you were any louder, he might find out,” I said, checking over my shoulder to ensure that Changbin was still in deep conversation with Felix. “I heard you visited Felix’s parents the other day.”

Rina groaned, handing me back my phone. “I’m pretty sure they hate me. I made the worst impression possible.”

“What did you do?” I asked, rolling my eyes because Rina had a tendency to go overboard.

“Well, for one thing, when his mother asked for help with the food, I may have accidentally started a small kitchen fire.”

“You know, it really doesn’t matter if the fire is small or not.”

“Yeah,” Rina agreed sheepishly.

“Does that mean things are okay with between you and Felix?” I took a sip of my wine, thinking my question innocent enough until I heard Rina let out a shaky breath. “What is it?”

Rina shook her head, leaning out over the balcony. “Felix is acting weird these days. He comes home late now and he doesn’t bother paying me much attention.”

“Felix?” I immediately questioned because I wanted to make sure we were talking about the same boy who bought every single bouquet of roses in the flower shop on Main Street for their anniversary.

Rina suddenly moved in closer, eyes carefully ensuring that no voices were potentially listening. “I think Felix is cheating on me.”

“Rina,” I gasped because the accusation was incredibly serious. “Why would you think that? After he just took you home to his parents?”

“I think he just did that because I kept insisting,” Rina huffed. “I’m serious here, Y/N. There’s something going on with him.”

I wracked my brain for any indication that Felix might have said something to offer justification for Rina’s claim. “But how can you be sure?”

“I can’t,” Rina said. “That’s why I’m going into the office tomorrow night.”

“The office?”

“He’s probably meeting her there.”

“Who?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Rina hissed. “Felix comes home really late all of a sudden and he doesn’t talk to me about why?”

“That’s just how Felix is.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Rina said, dismissing my comment. “I’m planning to follow him. See what he’s really doing.”

“Rina, this sounds like a horrible idea.”

“As bad as sneaking a dog into Changbin’s apartment?”

“They can’t even be compared,” I exclaimed. “And I plan to tell Changbin about the dog.”

“Good luck with that,” Rina sneered, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass. “Can you at least come with me tomorrow?”

“To spy on Felix?”

“As a precaution,” Rina said as if that improved the situation.

“Rina, you need to trust Felix. I don’t think he would do anything like this to hurt you.”

“Please, Y/N,” Rina said, reaching out for my hand. “Best friends are supposed to come before boys.”

“Don’t use that against me,” I said. “Besides, how do you expect us to just sneak into the office?”

“Leave that to me,” Rina said, patting my shoulder as if to show her appreciation. “Just tell your man that we’re going out for the night.”

“Fine, but you owe me big time.”

Nevertheless, why did it have to be so cold for our impromptu spy mission?

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” I commented dryly, gazing out at Changbin’s office building from across the street. “We’re definitely going to get caught.”

“Not with that attitude,” Rina said. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose I have no choice,” I grumbled.

“Felix didn’t respond to my last message,” Rina said, already making her way out of the car. “But I saw that he was parked in the garage.”

“Changbin’s still here too,” I said with a shiver because I had been desperately hoping that my husband would leave on time for once. However, the moment he found out that I was going out with Rina, he called up Hyunjin and told him that tonight would make a great time to work on their new project. “At least he won’t accidentally wander into the guest bedroom and find Jane in the bathroom.”

“Wouldn’t that be hilarious though?” Rina giggled. “Changbin is going to throw a fit when he finds that dog.”

“He hasn’t noticed anything so far,” I said, although he came very close to suspicion in bed the other night when he realized that something that sounded a lot like barking was emanating through the walls.

“Y/N, you can’t hide that dog forever, but I need your full attention tonight,” Rina said, snapping her fingers while she pointed at the office near the top where Felix worked. “I have someone on the inside who’s gonna help us.”

I had a bad feeling about this mysterious insider that was only confirmed the moment Jeongin stepped outside to greet us at the front. “That figures,” I muttered because Jeongin practically idolized Rina who always showered him in affection. If Rina and Felix weren’t so obviously in love, Jeongin would be the first person to show up on Rina’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Changbin and Hyunjin are in a meeting,” Jeongin explained as he led us to the elevators. “Felix should still be in his office, but he mentioned something about leaving before I came downstairs.”

Jeongin was also Felix’s intern and I highly doubted that he would appreciate the younger’s blatant participation in Rina’s witch hunt. “Perfect,” Rina nodded. “Now tell Y/N about that woman that Felix keeps meeting with.”

Jeongin turned to me with a gasp. “I have no idea who she is, Y/N, but she’s showed up every day this week!”

“See!” Rina exclaimed, waving her hands around like she had suddenly solved the world’s greatest crisis.

“I don’t see anything,” I told her, stoically unmoved when we arrived at our designated floor. “Felix meets with a lot of people. I don’t know if you’re aware, but he kinda works for a pretty big business.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rina declared, heels loudly clicking against the floor as we followed our newly appointed Jeongin tour guide. He led us to one of the desks outside of Felix’s office, searching through some reports until he found what he was looking for, handing it to Rina. “This is the last spreadsheet for all the transactions from Felix’s company credit card.”

“They’re from the same restaurant,” Rina said, reading over the list with narrowed eyes. 

“Business meetings,” I said.

“Or, he’s treating this homewrecker to sushi and bad soju,” Rina said. “What else do you have, Jeongin?”

The younger boy obediently knelt down to open another drawer, but let out a little gasp when he jerked on Rina’s arm and forced the two of them on the floor. “Get down!” he hissed, but I reacted late to his sudden warning, realizing my mistake a moment too late when Changbin was already calling my name from somewhere to my right. 

“Distract him,” Rina whispered urgently, tugging on my jeans.

I rolled my eyes but tried to put on my best smile when Changbin stopped on the other side of Jeongin’s desk. “Y/N,” he said, clearly surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d visit you on my way home,” I lied smoothly, resisting the urge to kick out at Rina in her vulnerable position.

“Where’s Rina?” he asked, arms flexing enticingly in his tight-fit shirt.

“Probably at home,” I said, before trying on my best pout. “Are you not happy to see me?”

Changbin’s expression immediately softened. “Of course I am, Y/N,” he said. “I’m glad you came by. I’m leaving soon so we can ride home together.”

“Perfect,” I said, stepping away from the desk to eagerly lead Changbin further away from where my best friend was hiding. I also didn’t stop him when his strong arms encouraged me into the firm expanse of his chest, cologne heavy against his neck. 

“Do you need anything?” Changbin asked while calling for the elevator. 

I glanced over his shoulder at Jeongin who was trying to tell me something, but I quickly determined that he would be really bad at the whisper challenge. “I’m okay,” I said, clutching tightly to his arm as led me downstairs.

Seungmin and Minho were acceptable lunch buddies and despite their near-constant arguing, I still sat with them in the company’s cafeteria, enjoying whatever organic food they planned to serve that day. “How is the puppy, Y/N?” Seungmin asked over a mouthful of potatoes.

“She’s great,” I said, unable to resist a smile at the thought of my charming new friend.

“Does Changbin know?”

“Not yet,” I said, hesitantly poking at my salad. “But I have a plan to fix that tonight.”

“Is that so?” Minho butted in, studying me from across the table. “Maybe he could buy you a new apartment across the city.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Because I plan to thoroughly convince him.”

“Sounds like an innuendo to me,” Minho said, reaching out for my hand. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve finally figured out the real purpose of marriage.”

“Manipulation,” Seungmin concluded.

“Stop it you two,” I groaned. “I’m not manipulating Changbin.”

“Seduction sounds like manipulation to me.”

“I’m merely encouraging him to change his mind,” I said, ignoring their unnecessary commentary.

“By dicking him down, I get it,” Minho nodded. “I’ve done the same things to my girlfriends.”

“No wonder you’re still single,” Seungmin said earning him a flick across his forehead. “Ow!”

“I’m sure Changbin has affection for animals somewhere deep down inside,” I continued. “He’ll be so much happier with a dog around the apartment.”

“Or he’ll be really furious,” Seungmin said. “I guess if you really need to return the puppy, I can always take her back.”  

“No,” I whined at the thought. “We’ve already bonded.”

“Well, if it comes down between your bond with man’s best friend and the man, which would you rather choose?” Minho asked.

I really hated them both sometimes.

There were three things that Seo Changbin truly loved: 1. His family 2. His wife and 3. His wife in lingerie. Which is exactly what he was going to get the moment he stepped inside that door. Because tonight, I needed to do everything in my power to appeal to him.

I nodded in satisfaction as I studied my appearance in the floor-length mirror in our bedroom, adjusting the thin fabric of my stockings as they ran up the expanse of my thighs, attached to the garter belt Changbin had bought me for my birthday. Once I was satisfied, I tugged on a silky black robe, loosely tying the belt around the middle. “Perfect,” I declared.

Next, I made sure that Changbin’s favorite food was ready, table set with our finest cutlery. I also pulled out his favorite wine, filling two glasses while keeping the bottle cool in a bucket of ice. Finally, I lit a few candles around the table and the perimeter of the dining room, trying for a romantic mood since Changbin was secretly a huge fun of those extravagances.

“Do it for Jane, Y/N,” I whispered to myself, flinching when I heard the sound of Changbin’s key in the lock.

My husband called out my name and I directed him to the dining room, pleased when his eyes immediately froze on my attire. “Y/N?”

“Binnie,” I grinned, taking a seat on the edge of the table, kicking out one of the chairs as an invitation. “I made your favorite.”

Changbin tugged at the tie messily wrapped around his collar, taking my hint and planting himself down next to me. One hand caressed my exposed leg through the fabric of my robe while he looked up at me with dark eyes. “What’s all this for?”

“For you, of course,” I smiled, reaching back to grab a strawberry, holding it up to his lips.

Changbin took the offered fruit, eyes never leaving mine. “Is there something you want, Y/N?”

Changbin knew me too well, but I kept up the act, sliding down the table and into his lap. My thighs were planted on either side of his body and Changbin delicately traced the lace lining of my stockings to the place where they disappeared beneath fabric. “Does there have to be a reason?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“No,” Changbin agreed, eager hands working the belt of my robe. “But there usually is.” He was silent for a moment as he drew the sleeves down my shoulders, leaving me completely on display for his eyes to leisurely explore. “You can tell me, honey.”

“I can?” I asked breathlessly, planting kisses across his forehead while his fingers dug into my ass to pull me even closer.

“Whatever you want,” Changbin agreed, hands smoothing across the skin of my stomach while he started to slowly grind his hips against mine. He was impossibly hard beneath the tight material of his fitted slacks, cock moving perfectly in time with the little moans he forced out of me. I was practically drooling at the thought of Changbin’s cock, stretching my lips across the head and tasting his precum. 

“Binnie,” I gasped, jittery fingers working apart the buttons on his shirt to reveal the smooth skin of his chest, groping my hands against his defined pectoral muscles.

“Yeah, baby?” he said, reaching up to taste my lips. “You want me to fuck you on the table?”

“Please,” I whimpered, holding onto his biceps to feel his impossible strength while he practically manhandled me into place, looming over my trembling body while his eyes made a luxury trip of exploring my exposed skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist to encourage him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock...

“Did you hear that?”

I froze under him, detecting resistance from Changbin whose eyes were now devoid of lust as he lifted his head in concentration. It was then that I heard it, an alarmingly loud whine from Jane in the guest bedroom which was suddenly way too close to ignore. 

Changbin immediately stopped everything he was doing. “Please tell me you can hear it too?”

“Hear what?” I asked nervously, attempting to draw his attention back to me and it might have worked had Jane not decided to let out a series of playful barks and I suddenly regretted leaving her alone with a new toy.

“It’s something,” Changbin said, tone much darker as he ordered me to unwrap my legs from their vicelike grip around his waist. I obeyed hesitantly because my plan was falling apart at the seams and I had a bad feeling about what might happen next. 

Slowly, I followed him as he marched to the guest bedroom, opening the door like a man on a mission. And I doubt I’ll ever forget the way Jane immediately darted from the bathroom, sniffing Changbin’s shoes before waddling in my direction, plastic bone hanging from her mouth. “Y/N,” Changbin said, watching me as I picked up Jane off the floor. “Do you mind explaining to me why there’s a dog in the guest room?”

“It’s nothing bad,” I said, holding even tighter to Jane. “I may have adopted her-”

“What!” Changbin cut me off with a sharp interrogative. “How long has it been living here?”

“She,” I corrected him, “has been living here for a week or so...”

“A week!” Changbin exclaimed. “You’ve kept a dog hidden in here for a week?”

“Well, I didn’t plan on hiding her forever,” I said, fingers moving nervously through Jane’s soft fur.

“Get rid of it,” Changbin barked, looking every bit the intimidating CEO whose annual salary easily eclipsed my entire family net worth.

“Changbin,” I said softly. “Please don’t say that.”

“This is my house,” Changbin growled. “And I will not have it trashed by that thing.”

“I thought it was my house too?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

Changbin seemed taken aback, but he was not deterred for long. “Of course it is, but you know I don’t want any animals living here.”

“But she’s really clean,” I said. “And I’m training her every day!”

“I don’t care,” Changbin snapped. “I want to see it gone tomorrow morning, do you understand?”

“Changbin,” I whimpered, eyes clouding with the promise of tears. “You said you’d give me whatever I want.”

I know it sounds selfish, but I was growing increasingly desperate as it became more and more apparent that Changbin had already made up his mind. “I meant something like clothes, Y/N,” Changbin said. “Not a living pest.”

“She’s not a pest,” I insisted. “Jane is really sweet.”

“Oh great, you’ve named it,” Changbin grumbled, reaching for his cellphone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Animal control,” Changbin muttered and I immediately reacted.

“Don’t call them!” I exclaimed. “At least give her a better home than that horrible place.”

“Then find her one,” Changbin said. “You get one week before I handle it myself.”

“What an asshole,” I snarled. 

“I agree,” Rina nodded, offering Jane a few treats when my puppy clambered onto the sofa next to us. In spite of Changbin’s dismissal, I found a refugee for both myself and Jane in Rina’s shared apartment with Felix. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. Changbin can’t possibly be that averse to something so cute.”

“It’s not like I brought home a child,” I said, frowning at my phone screen when Changbin sent yet another text message. “I hope he knows I’m not coming home tonight. If he kicks Jane out, then I’m leaving too.”

“You can keep me company instead,” Rina said. “Felix never comes around anymore so it’s just like college again.”

“Except we have more than just ramen in the kitchen.”

“Not to mention this sweetie,” Rina added, lifting Jane into her arms. “Who needs a man around anyway?”

“At least your man is okay with Jane living here for a few days,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to ask Seungmin to take her back.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Y/N,” Rina sighed. “It’s unfortunate that Changbin hates the puppies. I’d even keep Jane for myself but I think she’d be much happier with someone who isn’t prone to forgetting to even feed herself.”

I snorted. “That would be better than the pound. Can you believe he tried to call animal control?”

“Seo Changbin?” Rina snickered. “Nothing he does surprises me. This is the same person who rented out an entire restaurant just to propose to you.”

“Don’t bring up our happy memories,” I complained. “I’m supposed to be mad at him right now.”

“Then be mad at him,” Rina shrugged. “Honestly speaking, if he can’t see how important this is to you, then he doesn’t deserve to call you his wife in the first place.”

“This isn’t a deal-breaker,” I said. “I just wish he would understand how I feel.”

“Analytical types like Changbin are incapable of empathy,” Rina said. “It’s a proven fact, Y/N. He’ll still think he’s right when the two of you are retired somewhere in a tropical paradise.”

“Ugh, he’s so stubborn.”

“Takes after his mother in that regard,” Rina said. “Remember at your wedding? She bawled her eyes out after giving that horrible speech where she basically implied that you were stealing away her only son.”

“She’s the mistress of Evil,” I nodded. “They share that characteristic. Both of them can be downright mean when they want to be.”

“I guess that’s why Changbin has been so successful,” Rina said. “Still doesn’t take away from the fact that he sometimes seems to forget you're his wife and not a stockholder.”

I let out a deep breath. “What about you and Felix?”

“Oh, he’s still distant and I’m half-way convinced that I’m being replaced by a supermodel with bigger tits.”

“I don’t think Felix would be that shallow.”

“I know,” Rina said, palming her breasts through her shirt. “They’re pretty big, right?”

“He doesn’t care about that,” I said. “And if I wasn’t so pissed at Changbin, I might ask him about this mystery girl.”

“We’ll have to go through the middle man,” she said, offering me a knowing look.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” we both agreed in perfect synchronization.

Luring Hyunjin out of the office building was as easy as promising a free lunch at his favorite restaurant. And when Hyunjin discovered that he would be meeting with both myself and Rina, he immediately jumped at the opportunity. Because Hwang Hyunjin was one of the most overdramatic people I knew and he never missed an opportunity to ensconce himself in everyone else's problems. “You know, Y/N,” he said through a sip of wine. “It would be nice if you at least pretended to like Changbin. He’s always intolerable at the office whenever the two of you fight.”

“I can��t even pretend to like him right now,” I said. “And, if you feel so inclined, you can pass on the message to him that I won’t be coming home tonight.”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Hyunjin said, but it was impossible to miss the spark of mischief in his eyes. “Should I?”

“You can kick Changbin’s ass for all we care,” Rina said, already working through her third glass of chardonnay. 

“But, of course, that’s not the reason we invited you here,” I said, earning me a curious look in return.

“It’s about Felix,” Rina said through gritted teeth. “And don’t bother trying to cover for him, Hyunjin, because you’re a terrible liar.”

“What did he do wrong this time?” Hyunjin scoffed, seemingly indifferent as he took a bite of his organic salad.

“That blonde he keeps meeting in the office,” Rina said, always ready to get straight to the matter at hand. “Who the hell is she?”

Hyunjin visibly blanched, choking on his current mouthful while desperately trying to wash down the rest of his glass. “What?”

“The. Blonde,” Rina repeated. “I know everything, so don’t try to hide the truth from me.”

“If you knew everything, you wouldn’t be asking me,” Hyunjin pointed out.

“Just tell me who she is!” Rina exclaimed, loud enough to attract the attention of several tables.

Hyunjin wilted under their accusatory stares. “I can’t tell you.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Rina started, hands clasping the edge of the table. “Don’t you dare try to cover up your friend’s extracurricular affairs.”

“Felix isn’t cheating on you,” Hyunjin snapped. “I can’t believe you would even think that.”

“It’s not hard to,” Rina defended herself, “when everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I feel like I’m in the middle of something but I’m not even allowed to know what it is!”

“Rina,” Hyunjin tried again, tone visibly calmer. “Trust me on this. Felix isn’t cheating on you and everything will start to make a lot of sense.”

I studied my friend, but she seemed completely unmoved, expression fierce as she glared down at her untouched plate of food.

My mother’s house was located almost an hour away from where Changbin and I lived in the city. My visits were less frequent because of the combination of distance and my inability to leave work early because Jisung couldn’t handle the office without me. But, since I needed someone to take care of Jane, I knew my mother might be the best solution. She also didn’t hesitate when I asked to spend the night away from Changbin. However, my mother was prone to exceeding selfishness when it came to spending time with me.

In any case, it was the last time I would be able to get away with my nightly escapades because Rina had brought me an invitation that morning to join herself, Felix, and several of their friends for a getaway at the beach. I reluctantly agreed to come since Felix insisted that it was important and Rina demanded she has her “partner in crime” next to her side all weekend. But I would be expected to share a room with Changbin which meant we would either argue even more or ignore each other awkwardly at every available opportunity.

The last time Changbin and I went anywhere with Felix and Rina was back when Changbin first started the company. We ended up stuck inside our hotel because it rained endlessly for the entire week we visited the Florida Keys. On the plus side, I did manage to watch a lot of good movies at the theatre, including a horror classic that was made even better when Changbin decided to stick his hand up my skirt. I’m pretty sure the couple next to us knew exactly what we were doing, and it was worth it to watch their expressions when I accidentally moaned during an intense scene involving a ghost and a clueless teenager.

Nevertheless, I usually loved going on trips with Changbin because he always planned the best surprises. Too bad he had already ruined this one because of his, for lack of a better term, “assholish” tendencies. And poor Jane shouldn’t have to suffer along with everyone else just because my husband hated cute animals.

“Y/N,” my mother grinned brightly, encouraging me inside while I carried Jane in my arms. “Isn’t she adorable!”

“At least some people think so,” I grumbled, putting Jane on the floor so that she could make herself comfortable.

“I can’t believe Changbin told you to get rid of her.”

“Really?” I huffed, leaning against the wall. “You were the one that warned me he would be, and I quote, a pompous ass.”

“Well,” my mother grimaced, “I thought he might prove me wrong.”

“And I’ll be stuck in the same room with him all weekend,” I groaned. “Felix and Rina owe me big time.”

“Or,” my mother allowed, “maybe you should thank them. The trip is a good opportunity to put this argument to rest.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Honestly, Y/N, I know he was harsh, but you’re the one who went and got a dog behind his back. Plus, Jane can just stay here with me. It gives you a good excuse to visit more often.”

“You’re only saying that because you got a cute new puppy,” I muttered.

“Sweetheart,” my mother cooed, carefully guiding me to the counter. “I’ll always have your back, and I’d like to believe that I’m still the only person who can take care of you, but I think Changbin stole that title a long time ago.”

“He’s just infuriating sometimes,” I said.

My mother laughed. “All men are, Y/N, and you know you’ll have fights with Changbin. That’s what married couples do. The important thing is that the two of you can always come back together and forgive, even if the matter at hand is this cute.”

I grinned when my mother reached down to collect Jane into her arms. “I still don’t get how someone can hate a puppy.”

“Perhaps not hate,” my mother said. “But you should respect his opinion, even if you don’t agree with it.”

“He never asks me for anything,” I sighed. “I guess I made this into a bigger deal than it needed to be.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, you definitely get that from me,” my mother said. “Now, about you spending the night...”

“Yeah, I get it,” I grumbled. “I should go back home.”

“It’s not exactly mature of you to run away from him,” my mother pointed out as if I didn’t already feel guilty enough. “And it only makes it that much harder to fix things when you keep avoiding them.”

“Fine, I’ll go home,” I said, pulling out my phone to send Changbin a brief message. “You’re all wise and old now.”

My mother frowned. “Sweetheart, I don’t consider myself old.”

“Mom, the last time we went shopping, you had me come pick you up at the mall entrance because you didn’t feel like walking to the car.”

“Well, everyone has those days,” my mother said. “In any case, I should find somewhere for Jane to stay. Her mom is certainly welcome to come over any time.”

“Pretty sure her mom is Seungmin, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, lifting Jane from the ground to bring her closer. “You won’t forget about me, right?”

Jane considered with wide eyes before cautiously offering me a small lick on the cheek. “Yeah, I think we can make this work.”

Changbin’s car was already parked in his usual spot when I pulled into the complex. I was hoping he would stay at the office longer, but he probably left the moment he received my message. Straightening the hem of my skirt, I carefully entered the apartment, inwardly groaning when I could hear the sounds of the TV from the living room. I was still quiet when I shuffled across the carpet, but apparently, Changbin had been waiting on me. “Babe,” he murmured quietly as I passed by the couch.

Whispering a curse, I turned around to look at Changbin whose eyes were struggling to open as if he had been asleep when I came home. “Sorry,” I said in return, forcing my eyes to look away from his exposed chest, firm edges made softer under the light from the LED screen.

I made my way to our bedroom, deciding to pack as efficiently as possible because I was starting to get a headache which meant I wanted nothing more than to pass out on the bed. “Y/N,” Changbin spoke up softly, lingering by the door as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “How was your mother?”

“Fine,” I answered shortly, moving around our bedroom as quickly as possible because I was determined to avoid any sort of conversation with Changbin, cramming my t-shirts into the stupid designer suitcase he had bought for me. 

“Are you tired?” he asked, looking irresistible with his messy hair and puffy cheeks.

“Yeah,” I said, carefully zipping my suitcase closed. I brought it next to his at the side of our dresser.

Changbin took a few more steps into the room, pausing next to the bed while I changed clothes quickly. “Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”

I really wanted to tell him, no, but it was rather difficult to refuse him when he was being sweet. At least he obviously understood that he was wrong for screaming at me like I was one of his assistants instead of his wife. “You can,” I told him, already pulling back the sheets of the comforter.

And I didn’t even resist when he climbed in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist because he liked to keep me close in bed. “Y/N,” he whispered in my ear, fingers curling with mine. “You can keep the dog when we get back.”

“Binnie,” I murmured, attempting to protest because I wasn’t expecting Changbin to give in so easily. He really does give me whatever I want.

“It’s alright,” Changbin said, tenderly squeezing my waist, breath warm against the back of my neck. “We can talk about it later.” The combination of his familiar presence and the lovely feel of his fingers pulling through my hair was enough to lure me into a much-needed sleep.

Early morning flights were a pain in the ass and I was no exception to the demonizing effects of insomnia, especially when I felt guilty because Changbin had agreed to let me keep Jane only after I avoided him for several days. We didn’t talk about it on the drive to the airport. In fact, we didn’t talk much at all as Changbin turned up the volume on the radio while he drove with tired eyes. It had probably been difficult for him to take the whole weekend off for Felix’s getaway trip, and I hadn’t bothered to ask him how he was feeling.

Felix and Rina were waiting for us at the security line when we arrived with a few minutes to spare. Apparently, Hyunjin and Chan were already at the loading gate since they had arrived much earlier than everyone else. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out of town together,” Rina remarked as she pulled me away from Changbin, leaving him to talk quietly with Felix.

“Excluding the first beach disaster?”

“Definitely,” Rina agreed, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “I convinced Felix to switch tickets with you. Now, my best friend can sit next to me instead.”

I nodded in reply since I had actually been looking forward to an opportunity to talk with Changbin on the airplane. It was probably best for both of us if we talked about what happened. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a rather stupid argument that definitely could have been avoided if I had been less inconsiderate of Changbin’s feelings. They might seem irrational, but they mattered and that’s all I could think about for the entirety of our flight to the island.

And if I thought I’d get a chance to talk to him when we landed, I was proven wrong. Because Felix enforced a tight schedule, barely allowing any of us to get settled in at the resort before he was already ordering us to change into something comfortable for the beach. The hotel itself was situated right on the shoreline, busy with fellow travelers looking to enjoy what was already becoming a gorgeous afternoon. And since Changbin happened to own the place, we were treated to the best care with a constant presence of wait staff who brought us drinks and food. “You get five stars, Changbin,” Rina remarked as she sat between Felix’s legs on his beach chair. “I see why everybody makes a big deal out of your expensive hotels now.”

“You’re welcome,” Changbin grumbled from where the two of us were situated on a comfortable beach towel. Changbin had long since dismissed his t-shirt, tentatively requesting that I apply a generous amount of sunscreen to his skin. And no matter how I felt towards Changbin, I would never turn down the opportunity to run my hands against the gorgeous muscles that supplied his well-built torso.

In the meantime, Hyunjin and Chan were arguing about whether or not the hotel in New York needed the same kind of luxury swimming pool that the six of us had spotted on our way outside. “If I knew they would be this loud, I would have left them behind,” Felix said, sunglasses resting on the brim of his nose.

“It’s Hyunjin, what did you expect?” Rina said, watching the two older boys bicker. 

I nodded vacantly, growing tried from the influence of the sun. “What’s this surprise all about, Felix?” Rina asked her boyfriend, eyebrow raised in question.

Changbin jumped from his spot in front of me and I was startled when I realized I had massaged over his nipples. “You’ll see,” Felix said, a proud smirk making him look just as mischievous as he had been when we first met.

I couldn’t see Rina’s reaction since her glasses obscured most of her face. “Are you really going to keep me waiting?”

“Just until tonight, love,” Felix said, reassuring her with a gentle kiss that had my heart aching in my chest for Changbin despite him being in such close proximity. 

I spent most of the early evening with Rina, wasting time shopping as we waited for our dinner reservations. “What do you think?” Rina asked, holding up a sundress that barely fell below her thighs.

“No,” I said, returning my attention to the magazine in front of me.

“Changbin has made you way too conservative,” she griped before disappearing back into the changing room. “But you seemed more relaxed around him today.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think I owe him an apology.”

“What for?” Rina asked. “He’s the one who almost sent for animal control to handle an innocent puppy.”

“I never should have tried to hide Jane in the first place,” I said. “Changbin doesn’t ask for much and I should have respected his preference.”

“Wow, since when have you grown up?” Rina asked, re-emerging from the dressing room. “That’s awfully mature of you.”

“I love him,” I nodded. “And that means more to me than anything else in the world.”

“Including me?” Rina feigned hurt while dramatically falling against a nearby display of sneakers.

I rolled my eyes, checking the time on my phone. “We should probably meet the others.”

“Alright,” Rina grumbled. “But I’m afraid of what Felix might say at dinner.”

“What makes you think it’s a bad thing?” I asked.

“Where have you been, Y/N? Don’t you remember all the drama? Felix avoiding me? Coming home late? Does any of this ring a bell?”

“I thought you moved on from that.”

“Never,” Rina insisted while curling her arm through mine. “I’m still on high alert.”

“You know how Felix can get sometimes,” I said.

“Of course I do! But he’s never acted like this before,” Rina insisted. 

“Well, maybe you’ll get your answers tonight,” I said, leading her into the crowded seafood restaurant on the lower level of the hotel. 

It must have bee massively popular because guests were patiently waiting in large parties scrambled throughout the main lobby. Rina and I fought our way to the hostess, allowing her to check our reservation before graciously leading us further away from the rampant group of hungry customers who were all attempting to talk over one another. Instead, the hostess brought us to a private room, clearly the work of Seo Changbin, where the others were already seated.

“Finally!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “Felix wouldn’t let us order until you got here.”

Felix ignored his friend, pulling out a chair for Rina. I could tell he was visibly nervous which was certainly concerning because Felix was one of the most confident people I knew. He was the friend in Changbin’s board meetings who was never shy about speaking up. The one person you could always rely on to sweet talk an additional 5% off our coffee bill in the main lobby because he only had to smile at the poor cashier working the register.

I glanced over at Changbin who was busy scanning the menu in front of him. Changbin didn’t seem worried at all which was reassuring, although it definitely didn’t mean that Felix necessarily told Changbin what he was planning for tonight. And the longer I studied the younger boy fidgeting in his seat, the more curious I became. 

“You know, Chan,” Hyunjin said. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring that girl with you. Aren’t the two of you moving in together?”

I perked up at this new information. “Chan has a serious girlfriend?”

Chan and I had known each other for several years, but I was starting to conclude that the older man was planning to stay single for the rest of his life. Not that Chan didn’t make an elegant bachelor because the combination of his appealing good-looks, charming accent, and accumulating wealth was enough to cement his status. But then again, it might be nice to see Chan in a committed relationship because he would make the best father.

“It’s not that serious,” Chan said bashfully, ears tipped in red as he glanced around for the waitress.

“Whatever,” Hyunjin huffed, glancing between Felix and Rina with a barely concealed smirk. “You guys look great together.”

Felix glared at his friend. “You’re determined to spoil everything, aren’t you?”

“What does that mean?” Rina inquired, studying Felix curiously.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin said, immediately turning to me and Changbin. “Are the two of you still fighting?”

“Hyunjin,” I growled his name, determined once and for all that Hyunjin was intentionally trying to stir up more drama for his viewing pleasure.

“We’re alright,” Changbin said in a surprisingly gentle voice, one arm coming to rest across the back of my chair. “Here,” Changbin said, pulling my plate closer so that he could cut a few pieces of steak for me. “Your favorite.”

I blushed at his kindness, stuffing my mouth full of tender meant to avoid having to say anything in return. Thankfully, Felix was more than ready to interrupt our moment, abruptly standing up from his chair with a glass of wine in hand. “Everyone,” he said, immediately silencing our small party. “I have something to announce.”

I glanced over at Rina from the corner of my eyes, watching as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. A nervous habit she picked up from countless nights of writing 10,000-word essays for our history seminar. “Rina,” Felix said, addressing my friend. “We’ve been together for a while.”

Rina nodded, seemingly frozen in place. At least until Felix dropped down onto one knee next to her, pulling out a beautiful gold-encrusted wedding band with diamonds circling the outside. “Marry me.” 

My expression of shock likely mirrored Rina’s while Hyunjin clapped like a maniac from across the table. “Thank god! The secret is finally out!”

“Felix,” Rina finally managed, eyes growing cloudy with the promise of tears while she held out a shaky hand. Felix gently accepted her outstretched limb, sliding the ring into place on her finger. 

“I’ll consider that a yes.”

I immediately turned to Changbin who was watching the two of them with fond eyes. It was quite obvious that he also knew about the proposal and I admired my husband’s ability to help his friend make this weekend so special. Changbin met my gaze with a beautiful smile, reaching underneath the table to take my hand without hesitation.

It was late when the six of us finally left the restaurant, listening to Rina gush over her new ring while clinging to Felix’s side persistently. Changbin and I lingered at the back, shoulders brushing with every step while keeping our pinky fingers interlocked between us. “That woman!” Rina suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a familiar blonde standing behind the concierge counter.

“She’s the hotel’s general manager,” Felix explained, sending a wave in her direction.

“Oh,” Rina said dumbly and my friend was very rarely caught off-guard. I definitely couldn’t wait to offer her a well-deserved “I told you so” when we met for breakfast in the morning. However, for the time being, I wanted nothing more than to go back to the room with Changbin.

“I can’t thank her enough,” Felix continued. “She’s been very helpful when it came to planning all of this.”

“Really?”

“She deserves a raise, Changbin,” Felix said, nudging his friend as the six of us broke off into smaller groups as we returned to our assigned rooms.

“Congratulations, Rina,” I said to my friend, watching her join Felix in the suite across from ours.

I waited until we were truly alone before I closed the door quietly, turning around to find Changbin fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “Let me,” I said quietly, gliding across the floor to handle the delicate switch with nimble fingers.

“Thanks,” Changbin said, dropping the watch on top of the nightstand.

“Changbin,” I spoke up hesitantly. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

My husband shrugged, broad shoulders tense against the fit of his shirt. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not,” I said, reaching out for his wrist to turn him around. “You didn’t deserve that, especially over something that was my fault to begin with.”

Changbin sighed, tugging me closer against him. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I pressed my forehead against the center of his chest. “You never ask me for much. In fact, you’re always the one who gives the most in our relationship. I should have respected your opinion. Instead, I went behind your back and I’ve felt guilty about it for the entire trip.”

“There’s no need for that,” Changbin insisted, fingers curling through my hair. “We’ve both made mistakes, but I can never stay mad at you for long.”

“I’ll let my mom have the dog,” I said, pressing my fingers against his plush lips before he could interrupt. “I’m serious. She’s much happier with Jane. Maybe, later on, we could try something smaller? Like a hamster!”

Changbin grimaced at the thought and I laughed at his expression. “Unless you just want me all to yourself.”

“That’s not it,” Changbin sighed. “I just don’t want that responsibility. Plus, I really don’t like the idea of a dog or cat in the apartment.”

“Well, I can always visit my mom when I want to see Jane,” I said, reaching up to fix the messy strands of his hair. “See? A compromise.”

Changbin smirked, leaning down for a kiss. “You make a better negotiator than I do. Maybe you should be in charge of the board.”

“I’ll let you handle things,” I said, running my hands along his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

“I meant it when I said I would do anything to make you happy,” Changbin whispered against my hair. “Even if that means I have to fill the apartment with dogs.”

I grinned. “I like what we have now, Changbin.”

“That’s so cheesy,” he accused me, laughing when I whined in response. “I love you, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too,” I said. “You’re basically just a giant puppy anyway.”

Changbin grunted as his hands gripped the back of my thighs. “Please don’t say that when I’ve already started making plans to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

I shivered at his seductive promise. “Oh yeah? I guess you’ll just have to prove it to me.”

[bunnimew]

Yule Never Live This Down

Rating: G Fandom: Rise of the Guardians  Relationship: Gen or Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: You can read it as Gen or Blackice, It's mostly just shenanigans, Hogwarts AU, Yule Ball, I didn't sort them so you can sort them in your heart, Jack dances with everyone Summary: For @rotgsecretsanta 2020 #45: A ROTG Hogwarts AU crossover maybe?

It's time for the Yule Ball. Anyone and everyone at Hogwarts is crowded into the Great Hall.

And they all want to dance with Jack.

On AO3 Here.

For a month the Yule Ball was all anybody at Hogwarts talked about, and now it was here. 

Jack felt pretty fancy in his nice robes. They weren’t top of the line, but they looked good on him and chances were something would be torn by the end of the night so best not to invest too many galleons in them, anyway. 

As if thinking it brought fate on, Jack felt himself swept up into a huge pair of arms as soon as he walked through the doors of the Great Hall. 

“Jack!”

“North!” Jack cried happily. He tried to get his arms around the man who might as well be his father, but physics wasn’t on his side. 

“Yes!” the man agreed and Jack laughed. “We must dance!” 

Jack squirmed and North put him down, only to push him toward the dance floor. “Aren’t I supposed to dance with other students?” 

North waved him off. “You can do that later. First dance with me!”

Jack shrugged and accepted it as how his night was going to start. They didn’t have to wait; the champions always had the first dance but Jack had been fashionably late (or at least he imagined it to be fashionable), so everyone was already crowding the floor. North parted the mob like only he could do and lifted Jack into his arms once more.

“Yanno,” Jack said with his arms pinned at his sides, “usually dancing implies I get to use my feet. At least a little bit.”

North grinned at him with such beaming pride and joy that Jack couldn’t even pretend to be bothered. “Nonsense! Dancing is dancing! We are on the dance floor, no?”

Jack thought about it for roughly two seconds. He was pretty sure there was a flaw in the logic, but. “I’m just gonna go with it.” 

North spun him around and Jack ducked his head and prayed his robes would make it longer than ten minutes. 

The song hadn’t quite ended when North finally let him go. He was confused until a flutter of color caught his eye. North bowed out of their dance and Jack spun to face Toothiana, who looked absolutely gorgeous in her gown of every color. 

“Wow, you are looking magnificent,” Jack said in awe. She giggled and took his hands for a dance. 

“You’re too good at flattery,” she accused. “How can I know when you’re telling the truth?”

Jack gave her his most earnest look. “I am always telling the truth when I compliment you.”

She gave him a look of her own. “Seriously, you’re dangerous.”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, that I can’t deny.”

She laughed again and they fell into something that resembled a waltz, but there was no coordination to their steps. They skipped and twirled around the dance floor to any and all quick beats, even knocked into some other couples, but if anyone minded, nobody stopped them. Jack was out of breath long before the song was over but he didn’t care. Tooth was one of the few people who could keep up with him at his fastest and he was going to enjoy every second of terrorizing the dance floor with her. 

They only stopped when the music finally did, and collapsed into the nearest pair of empty chairs to grab their breath. Difficult to do, because they were still laughing so hard. 

They grabbed the first drinks they saw without caring what they were and only realized after half the glasses were gone who their hydration salvation was. 

Sandy set the rest of the tray on the table and sat down to join them. He conveniently had handkerchiefs for both of them and Jack had never been more convinced that Sandy was a being of pure magic than he was then. Somehow a plate of food appeared, and Jack was even more impressed. 

“How do you do that, Sandy?” Jack asked. “Know just what everybody needs?”

Sandy winked and pushed another tiny sandwich toward him and Jack gave in with a roll of his eyes. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll let you have your mysteries for now.” As if Jack ever had a hope of unraveling Sandy. “But I’ll figure you out, one day!” Best to keep his bravado firmly in place. He had a brand, after all. 

And sure enough, just as Jack was beginning to bore sitting there at the table, Sandy grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the floor. 

Their dance was smooth and easy and Jack definitely pissed less people off this time. Jack twirled Sandy, then Sandy would twirl him. He let Jack lead, which Jack appreciated, except half way through Jack realized he wasn’t the one setting the tone or the pace at all. They were dancing to Sandy’s calming beat, with little steps here, a bit of a kick there, and a slow spin that was all fluid grace. 

Jack loved it. Just because it wasn’t his usual didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate taking it slow. They made it through two songs like this, before the peace inevitably had to end. 

A throat cleared, and only one person cleared their throat like that. 

“May I have this dance?” Bunnymund asked pointedly, holding his hand out for Jack and definitely not Sandy. 

Jack had half a mind to pretend, anyway, just to piss him off. But tonight was supposed to be a fun night for everyone, so he took mercy on him and grabbed Bunnymund’s hand. “Yeah, sure. See you later, Sandy!”

Sandy pivoted on the spot and saluted with a casual grace that only he could pull off before disappearing into the crowd, which… was also something he was remarkably good at doing, come to think of it. 

That’s when the war started.

Bunnymund stepped forward to lead before they even had their hands in place. Jack had been going for the lead position and nearly tripped when he had to step back. So when Bunnymund went for the lead position, Jack purposely stepped into his space to return the favor. Jack’s hand dove for Bunnymund’s back, but he caught it just in time, which happened to be exactly what Jack did to Bunnymund’s hand on the other side. 

They managed to shuffle in an odd circle and at least not interrupt everybody else as they struggled and pressed against each other’s hold, each trying to lead, neither gaining an inch. They mostly staggered sideways, neither willing to step back, neither willing to give any ground. It was basically a metaphor for their entire relationship, including any and all group projects Hogwarts had ever given them. Jack really wondered why Bunnymund had decided tonight was a grand night to subject each other to this. 

It was even more exhausting than dancing with Tooth, but also… a lot of fun in its own way. Jack had never claimed to be a good dancer anyway, so why not spend a whole song formally wrestling in dress robes and pretending he actually cared about leading just to piss Bunnymund off?

It was his favorite pass-time, after all. 

Jack would never know if it was Toothiana or Bunnymund himself who took pity, but as the instruments quieted and the song began to change, she fluttered by in a whirl of color and stole his dance partner away. 

Jack had just begun to slink off to the side of the dance floor when a voice stopped him. 

“You seem to be on your own for the first time all night. Does that mean you’re free for a dance?”

Jack thought he knew that voice, but no. His ears had to be lying. Jack turned on the spot to face his newest challenger and was shocked to find it really was Pitch Black. 

They didn’t have a single class together. They weren’t even in the same year! How did Pitch Black know Jack was alive, much less that he was free for a dance?

Apparently, Jack in a shocked state would agree to anything, because his hand was in Pitch’s and he was back in the middle of the dance floor again. The song was a quick one, and Jack simply adopted the same method he had with Tooth: step wherever he damn well pleased and hope it matched the music. Pitch seemed much more practiced, which was probably a good thing, because Tooth was easy to forgive, but Pitch and Jack tended to encourage grudges. If they slammed into another couple now, house points were definitely going to be lost. 

The realization came slow, the same it had with Sandy. Jack wasn’t leading this dance, and he probably should have noticed that a while back, but the shock was still running through his system. They skated across the floor, somehow in time with the music and somehow in tandem with the rest of the dancers. Jack tripped and Jack slipped but the little hiccups didn’t seem to matter; he was quick enough on his feet not to fall and always hopped right back into the swing. 

He was finally starting to relax and really feel the rhythm of the beat when everything stopped with a record scratch only he could hear as Pitch pulled him close and tipped him arse-over-teakettle right there on the floor. 

Jack clung to Pitch’s shoulders to make sure he didn’t fall, and wondered what the fuck was happening, and when his brain would catch up. 

The answer was never. Pitch set him back to rights and twirled him half a dozen more times for good measure, and when the beat was gone, so was he. 

Jack stared after him until Pitch was impossible to see through the crowd of people and… hey, Pitch and Sandy had that in common. Who’da thought? 

Suddenly Bunnymund and Toothiana were back at his side and Jack couldn’t quite make himself look away as he smacked a hand into Bunnymund’s chest. 

“Hey,” Jack said, hearing the daze and distraction in his own voice. “Was that real?”

“Which part?” Bunnymund asked. “Getting ditched or losing your virginity on the dance floor?”

Jack spun around and smacked him much harder. 

Tooth laughed and grabbed for Jack’s hands. “No, you’ve definitely just been standing here for the last six minutes fantasizing and all of us left you to it because we’re horrible friends.”

“You’re horrible friends, alright,” Jack muttered. 

Just then he felt a nudge at his hip and turned to find Sandy, who winked multiple times, waggled one eyebrow, did a gesture with his hands and arms that made Jack feel uncomfortable, then smiled. 

Jack shook his head and turned around. “Why do I even admit to knowing you people?”

Toothiana snorted, but Bunnymund’s laugh was louder as Jack pushed his way off the dancefloor. 

“You’re all terrible people and I am going to bed!” Jack announced.

Just shy of the doors out of the Great Hall, North stopped him with two firm hands on his shoulders and the biggest, brightest smile Jack had ever seen.

“So, he is your boyfriend, yes?”

Jack fought back rolling his eyes and kept his groan internal. He was never going to live this down. 

[raz-b-rose]

Donsy Week 2020:  Day 5: Free

This one is just a cheesy fun way to end the week. Thank you everyone who has read my contributions this week! It was so much fun to do this and complete my first ever ship week. Can’t wait for the next one!

Words: 1355

@donsyweek​

“Minnie!” Daisy shouts, barging into the art club room. The door hit the wall hard, shutting again with just as much force. Minnie’s shoulders rise and slowly fall, before she slowly turns around to face her. She quirked a brow at her, before turning back to her project. 

“Daisy, can this wait till later, I have a painting to finish.”

“No it can not! You will not believe what happened!”

She places herself within Minnie’s eyesight, hands on her hips while she waits. 

Minnie sighed again, glancing at her before picking her paintbrush back up. “What happened Daisy?” 

She ignores her tone, in finally having her attention. “He didn’t notice my haircut!” 

“What?” Minnie looks at her, paintbrush falling limp in her grip as she looks at her fully this time. 

“Donald.” She states, “He didn’t say anything all day about my new haircut”

“Daisy you should know by now guys don’t notice stuff like that,” Daisy feels her temper growing again at Minnie's amused dismissive tone. 

“He’s the one who said I would look good with short hair!”

“Wait, really? Wow that is pretty bad.” 

“Right!”

Daisy marches to the other side of the room, pacing angrily in front of the display wall, inspecting each piece with a glare. She was in here often enough that she has seen all these pieces before, but they took a new light in her annoyed state. 

They grew quiet for a moment, the only sound was Minnie's brush on the canvas, the click of the handle against the water cup and the air conditioning humming above them. 

“What else do I have to do short of punching him!” She screamed out, slamming her fist on the table. 

“You could just tell him.” Minnie replies calmly, but Daisy can hear the slight inflection in her tone. She was laughing at her. 

“I can’t just tell him I like him!” She spun around face flushed a red as Minnie’s dress. Minnie laughed softly, finally putting her things down. 

“Daisy,” She said softly, “What are you going to do if you guys are in a relationship-”

“When,” She interprets

“When you guys are dating, are you just never going to say you love him.” 

Daisy didn’t think she could get anymore embarrassed, but she swore she was on fire by this point, Minnie only laughed again. 

Daisy did not like to back down from a challenge, but a challenge of vulnerability and a risk of basically placing her heart in his hands..that was one challenge she was not ready to take on.  

“There is an element of risk in saying I lo-” She stutters, “love..him to early” 

“Oh Daisy,” She turns back to the art, crossing her arms. 

“I mean, it's so frustrating.” Minnie hums in response, the sound of art being created resuming. 

“I like him so much, and the thought of never being around him again is not worth that risk.” 

The sound stops. Daisy is surprised when Minnie places a hand on her shoulder. She waits for her to say something, but she only gets silence. 

“But he just won't get a clue!” She yelled out. She digs her fingers into her now very short hair, the reminder pissing her off more. 

“I ask for his opinions, I try again and again to hang out just the two of us but he always invites other people!” It’s so embarrassing for them to get a clue and not him!” 

“I baked him cookies and he shared them! Which is really sweet but common!” 

“Huh, Daisy-”

She ignored Minnie and continued her rant, “I could have a huge flashing sign that declares ‘I love Donald Duck’ and he still wouldn't get a clue! It's adorably frustrating!” 

She hears Minnie groan behind her, she glances at her. She has her face buried in her hands while she shakes her head. Mouth open, ready to ask that age old question to her clearly distressed friend, however she is stopped short by a different question sounding behind her. 

“You love me?” 

She froze at the familiar scratchy voice, slowly returning herself to fully facing the wall once more. Her stomach had tightened, heart pulsing in her throat, limbs shaking with a chill that only she knew. She sounded off a flurry of curses through her brain, mostly aimed at herself. This is not how this was ever supposed to go. 

He wasn’t supposed to find out while she was complaining about his airheaded nature in not understanding her passive attempts at making her intentions known, because she was too much of a coward to say anything to his face. 

Even now she couldn’t face him, tears of shame already falling down her face. She placed one hand over her mouth, and the other around herself for a false sense of comfort and defense against this situation she put herself in. 

“I’m going to go” Minnie squeaked out, all but running physically from the room. The silence this time, was only filled by the air conditioner and honestly Daisy swore the air itself had a sound right now. Taunting her, deepening her embarrassment and she wished to disappear. 

“Daisy-”

“What? You want me to say how I’ve liked you since freshman year and have tried again and again to tell you but something or someone always got in the way” 

“Well-”

“Or how-”

“Daisy!” 

She stops talking, waiting for him to speak. They only continued to stare there however. Daisy looked through blurred vision at the wall in front of her. 

There was a piece that resembled space. She really wished she could be sucked into that void right now and never return. 

"Are you going to look at me?" Daisy can't help but snort at the way his voice trembled while trying to sound authoritative. 

She truly and fully was whipped.

She turned to face him, hiding another puffed laugh at his face. It was red and his eyes were far too wide. He stood stiffly, flexing his hands to a rhythm only he understood. 

His hair fell flat against his forehead, sweat from soccer practice. His uniform was dirty like normal, but she was never one to mind a little dirty and sweat. 

"Will you say it again?" Donald croaks out, clearly forcing himself to meet her eyes, if the increasing of his flexing was anything to go by. This boy's courage far outweighed her own. 

"I love you" 

She always thought she would whisper those words to his face over a romantic dinner and they had been dating for a little while at least. Not proclaim them in a dingy old club room of the high school with both of them still in their respected uniforms and far from a rose scented picture. 

She wouldn't have it any other way. 

"I love you, too" 

Daisy could die and go to heaven. She could listen to that very special voice, say those very special words to herself for the rest of time. 

She knew she must be smiling like an idiot, but this terrible situation just became a terrific situation. They stared at each other for a little while longer, before Donald made his way towards her. He took her hand, insides fluttered at the touch and how his hand trembled in hers. Yes, she loved this very nervous, dorky, daydreaming, airhead. She loved him and wouldn’t want him any other way. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” She tried to bring back a sense of normalcy despite both of them having just declared their love for the other. They left the art room, walking hand in hand down the halls.

“I was looking for you, and I figured the best place to start was Minnie” 

“Good point, next time I need to rant, I’ll lock the door.”

“Oh no I heard you out in the hall.” He gave her a look, bringing back a semblance of her embarrassment. 

“Oh phooey”

He finally let out a laugh, punching her softly in the shoulder. “Stupid. I like your hair by the way”

She laughed as well, returning the punch, “shut up”