#i don't have a definitive ranking now but it's still up there!!

[jinwoosbabyboo]

So, you did a post of the boys being jealous, but I was wondering how would you rank each guy from most jealous to least jealous/possessive? Also, what kind of jealous are they.

P.S. Xavier's "It's nothing personal" still cracks me up. You're hilarious.

Most to Least Jealous

Who's the most to least jealous among the four of them? Here's what I think.

A/N: had to do a little switcher-roo w/ Zayne & Sylus because Zayne definitely gets more jealous than Sylus & it’s adorable

Xavier

Xavier without a doubt is taking first place here. This man was jealous when Jeremiah had his arm around MCs shoulder. He gets upset anytime MC compliments Lumiere. Xavier PLEASE Lumiere IS YOU.

Don't get me wrong I understand the notion of "He wants MC to love him for him not his Lumiere alter-ego" I get that. It's sweet that he's "Xavier .... Just Xavier" with MC.

Aside from him being jealous of himself though even in his myth he gets jealous when Jeremiah touches her or she speaks about Jeremiah he even blew in her eye because she "had a hooligan in her eye" referring to Jeremiah. He wants to be the only person in her eyes, mind, and heart.

Rafayel

Rafayel is jealous, but he's more clingy/needy than jealous (and I love that) He doesn't like being ignored by MC and gets antsy and dramatic when she takes too long to respond.

He wants all of MCs attention at all hours of the day. He wants to have her attention 24/7, but realistically he knows that can't happen so he just wants as much as possible.

Zayne

Zayne does indeed get jealous he’s not as jealous as Xav or as dramatic and pouty as Raf but he gets jealous. He isn’t as expressive with his jealousy but he still has a childlike jealousy vibe. He’s so smitten with MC he just wants all her affection he’s touch starved for heavens sake. He's secure within himself, but he finds the world itself boring and MCs vivacity makes his life interesting. So of course he gets jealous when something else is stealing his girls attention.

Also I imagine him being a little possessive when it comes to doing something for you because that’s how he shows his love. His actions are louder than his words.

Sylus

Sylus is extremely secure in himself he doesn't get jealous. At least that's probably what he tells himself. This man isn't "im gonna pout" jealous he's more of flash/zing of jealousy before setting himself straight like "Wait a minute ... she's mine ... I'm the whole loaf the rest of you are the breadcrumbs" and he's back to his confident self-assured sexy self.

If you want to see him get jealous change his pet name for you and when he asks "Am I the only one to call you that?" if you choose the "You should be" answer he's like "Who else is there? that doesn't matter you have me now" or something like that.

[vickyvicarious]

Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the house.

Joining the ranks of the blood- and sleep-deprived, Quincey Morris!

As always, I love the way he jumps right into taking action. He's reminded of vampire bats, he thinks the blood must go somewhere... so he patrols to keep an eye out for vampires, bats, people who are taking blood, whatever. Doing his best to guard her.

I do wonder about how much blood each man has given, though. It kind of feels like increasingly less, at least based on their activity levels afterward. Part of that may be due to circumstance; Arthur could afford to give more because he didn't have any urgent need to be doing anything else. Both Jack and Van Helsing had to be able to stay awake afterwards. And it's possible they are just getting more reckless with their own behavior as we go down the line. But still, Quincey being able to patrol around all night is a step up from resting first here and then at home (Art), resting for a while then going back to more sedentary work (Jack), resting for a bit then staying up at night sitting still (Van Helsing). He still gets some rest first, but then he is up and about and sleep-deprived. I don't feel like we can put all of that down to his manliness, royal lot of it or no.

A part of me wonders if Van Helsing saw that it wasn't going to be enough to save her, and cut off the flow a little earlier. Like, Quincey definitely still gave a lot, but maybe not as much as they'd otherwise have taken? Thinking of this line in particular: "Lucy had got a terrible shock and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasions."

Perhaps Van Helsing just wanted to ensure that she didn't die right then of blood loss, because he believed that would mean she'd turn into a vampire. He's clearly doing his utmost to save her when he can, of course... but also, earlier that day, he told Jack ""If [death] were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let her fade away into peace, for I see no light in life over her horizon.""

So it's possible that at this point he expected her to die no matter what, and just took the minimum amount of blood to hopefully ensure it is a human death. The possibility that one type of death will lead to vampirisim and another will simply be a human death certainly could be supported in today's entry:

At times she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, between sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although more haggard, and her breathing was softer; her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which thus looked positively longer and sharper than usual; when she woke the softness of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dying one.

The difference seems to be between sleeping and waking here. But maybe that's only possible thanks to Quincey's blood in her. Or maybe it always would have been, but without Quincey's blood, she wouldn't have regained the strength necessary to wake up in the first place, let alone die awake/in a more human state.

[dogsyears]

10 years ago bad blood permanently altered 12 year old chloe's brain chemistry and last weekend 22 year old chloe finally got to hear it played live 🤍

[oh-meow-swirls]

if anyone was wondering the rewrite's going great-

[noxtivagus]

SHADOWBRINGERS.... listening to the song again n oh god i love the lyrics so so much we r ignoring the fact that i have to wake up in like less than 4 hours

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem)

a.n; i blame this completely over the Olympics, again. sorry, but it has me on chokehold and i'm not resisting against it LOL 😜

Okay, hear me out...

Third date with Bakugou Katsuki.

The first one, of course, was very awkward and tense and sometimes even a bit worrisome. We are talking about dating Bakugou Katsuki, the one aggressive and violent Pro Hero that everybody has a hate-love feeling towards for; because the man looks and acts –and can– step on your head and crush it with malicious intent and yet, he's Nº 2 Pro Hero on the ranks and you just know that if he's around, you are completely safe. But he's big and tough and harsh in his talking and walking –how can anyone look that scary by just walking, you're still wondering, but it's real. He's fucking scary.

The second date was way more relaxed. He cooked for you. In his massive penthouse that probably costs more than your annual salary. Yep, morherfucker is rich rich. And you think he deserves it really. After all the troubles he goes through to keep the whole country safe –and even the world–, he completely deserves it. You just forgot how well he does his job to get to be that rich. You don't care about money though. You're dating him because you saw him helping a granny cross the street and that was the cutest thing you ever saw. So, back to the second date, he cooked for you, and damn... now you can say you'll keep dating him because of his food. Man cooks like the gods, like a fucking professional chef of the most expensive restaurant on earth. And also, you noticed how relaxed and in peace he looked in his own environment and he looked. So. Freaking. Attractive. Hot even. He looked just so... deliciously handsome.

So for the third date, and because he picked the second one, this one was of your choice. You decide to go ice skating. And you did not expect what happened at all. 

One would expect that Pro Hero Dynamight, civilian name Bakugou Katsuki, being who he is, would have exceptional balance and even a hidden talent for this. You’re wrong. Everyone is wrong. The second the blades of his skates touched the Ice Rink, he fell. Your eyes opened wide and you definitely were holding back your laugh as he struggled to get himself up by holding the handrail around the rink.

“Need some help?” You asked, getting close to him with no trouble at all. He looked up at you annoyed, struggling so hard to get up and keep his balance that his cheeks turned pink. How. Freaking. Cute. You’re glad that dating the Pro Hero came with its perks –like closing the whole rink just so only you and him are there, enjoying your date on a late wednesday night.

“Shut up. No, I can do it…” He declared, but another fall on his knees made you giggle while sliding backwards and away from him with ease, hands up in surrender. Katsuki looked at you once his stood for the nth time holding the handrail like dear life with a frown on his face, watching you how easy you made it look, “How the fuck are you doing that?”

You giggled again, amused by all of this situation. Sliding back towards him and extending your hands, you said, “Come one, let me help.”

Katsuki buffed but he placed his hands on yours, whole body trembling, barely holding himself up. The image of him sticking his ass up and body bending forward while his feet barely moved made you laugh out loud and he yelled another “shut up!”.

You changed your grip to his forearms and again slid backwards to make him move forward, his legs still trembling and his eyes never leaving the floor. He looked so cute, it made your heart flutter. The smile never left your face as you spoke again, “I used to skate a lot when I was younger. I even prepared myself to compete, but an injury put me out of the game.” 

He immediately looked back at you at your words, “What happened?” He looked curious, but also worried and kind of sad.

You shrugged, “I landed pretty badly over my right leg after a spinning jump once. After that, the shin splints became unbearable and I couldn't continue…” 

He looked down at your leg, watching you move attentively, “Does it hurt now?”

You shook your head and smiled at him, grateful for his worry, “Naah. It would only hurt badly if I tried to skate the way I used to… Guess I demanded a lot of myself back then.”

Katsuki didn’t comment further on, but he kept his attention on your leg. Didn’t that make him even cuter! 

It took you a while –long while– to finally be able to let go of one of his forearms once he was ready on his balance; his other hand still held yours strongly.

Time went by, both of you laughing and smiling while skating around the rink, hand in hand. You’re so happy that you could stand on the ice again. It brought you so many fond memories of when you were a kid. Skating was the only thing that could easily make you smile just because; the wind in your face made you feel free, content. and Katsuki could clearly see that.

For a moment, he got distracted by how beautiful you looked… and he lost his balance again. This time bringing you down with him. He was fast enough though to catch you and make you land over him. Your amused and loud laugh was contagious, so he couldn’t help but smile. He's having fun –even if he knew his body was going to hurt a bit the next day for how many falls he had.

“You’re so clumsy…” You laughed, joking kindly and funny.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you show me what you can do?” His smirk made you suddenly stop laughing. It’s a clear challenge, yet curiosity shined in his eyes.

“Alright, hero… watch and learn,” you helped him stand up and directed him towards the handrail. 

Once he was away from possible harm, Katsuki watched you skate around the rink as if you were flying, gliding around with so much confidence and ease, as if you were made for it. Your hair floating behind you for how fast you were going, dancing beautifully with the air. He was hypnotized. Completely mesmerized by each little form you decided to enlighten him with. He particularly felt fascinated when you decided to spin fast and so many times he couldn’t count how many, then you stopped like it had been nothing and kept gliding around. 

You looked so nice and professional, Katsuki felt a little pang of pity for the world. It would never be able to share how beautifully perfect you looked at the moment.

A few more glides around, until you stopped in a very experienced way right in front of him, a huge smile on your face and a shine on your eyes that were proof of how immensely excited and happy you felt.

Did katsuki say already how fucking beautiful you were?

Just to prove his point, he instantly grabbed your face and kissed you for the very first time.

And fuck, he planned on keep kissing you as much as you would let him.

He let you go for a moment just to say, “That was beautiful… You’re gorgeous.”

You smiled one more time before sliding your arms around his neck to kiss him again. He moved a bit to surround your waist with his arms…

And that’s when he forgot about the handrail and sent you both again towards the floor.

[boowritess]

notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt

reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.

"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."

"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"

"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."

you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.

till you notice and shut that shet down.

"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."

"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."

"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."

you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.

"you wanna what you fucking freak?"

"excuse me-?"

"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."

"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."

and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?

"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."

"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"

"NO!" *141*

it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.

but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.

it turns out that you definitely have some perks.

you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.

in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.

"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."

*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*

"Nothing."

*recruit tries again.*

"Nothing."

it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.

what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.

that gets shut down real quick.

you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.

but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.

before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.

"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."

"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*

"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"

perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.

it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.

ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.

a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.

[rueclfer]

shoujo touya save meeee pleaseee shoujo touya save me from the trenchessss

pull me through // touya todoroki

You awkwardly stood a few steps behind Touya as he felt around under the doormat for the spare key to his home. You two got along quite well for a couple of students who were on the opposite sides of the rankings, but never close enough to visit each other's home like this.

You were student council president, and Touya got suspended for setting the toilet on fire last year. That is how far you two were.

"Alright, come on in." He holds the door open for you to walk in before him.

At first glance, it seemed close to extravagant, but the closer you looked, it felt cozier by the second from the amount of framed photos, artwork, and trinkets displayed on every wall and counter.

In the living room, his younger siblings were all lined up like ducks as if they were awaiting for your arrival.

"Hi Fuyumi." You threw a wave at her.

"Hi Y/N!" She beams back.

You two worked on the student council together, so you were already close with her despite being a year older.

"Wait, this is Y/N?" The middle child with all white hair exclaims.

Fuyumi quickly swats her brother's arm, shushing him.

"Oooohh. Y/N, I know you!" The littlest one states, stepping up to you with an All Might figurine in hand.

"Oh do you?" You cock an eyebrow at Touya as he takes your jacket to put up by the door and your school bag off of your shoulder. You bent down to his level. "Your brother talks about me often?"

"No I don't." He quips before he could answer for himself, shooting a glare in their direction. "I don't know what either of them are talking about."

"Meet my ball and chains." He huffs with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Shouto, Natsuo, and you already know Fuyumi from your nerd thing."

"Can I play with them?" Shouto asks, moving over to Touya to tug on his pant leg.

"No you can't, turd. We have to work on a project so none of you bother us. Kay?" He motions you to follow him upstairs, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

You quickly follow behind him. "But maybe after!" You call out from midway up the stairs, giving them a final wave.

Upon entering his room, he sets your bag on his desk, letting you take the seat while he settles on his bed right next to you, whipping his laptop open.

Despite being somewhat of a delinquent, you knew that Touya was smart and had capabilities to be top of the class if he really cared to. You had no worries about this project, but the circumstance of being alone in his bedroom on the other hand, almost made you nervous,

"Your siblings seem to like me." You broke the tense silence as you two logged onto your presentation. "You definitely talk about me, huh?"

"It's probably Fuy. She's a big fan of yours." He glances over at you. "She talks about you way too much around here."

"You got a problem with that?"

"What, like I don't get enough of you at school?" He chuckles, biting on the end of his pen. "Don't I, Prez?"

"Lucky you, then. Not many people have that kind of access to me. I'm pretty high in demand, if you ask me." You tease back, meeting his eye for a moment before returning your attention back on your screen.

He pushes his laptop out and leans back in his bed, propping his upper half up on his elbow to face you with his pen still hanging out of his mouth.

"I wonder how those people feel about you spending all that time with such a loser like me? Not scared to tarnish that golden reputation of yours?"

"You give yourself too much credit." You laugh. "You've been such a good boy lately, I don't think anyone really bats an eye." You say sweetly, swiveling your chair to fully face him.

He chuckles to himself and diverts his eyes away from yours as a rush of blood floods to his cheek.

"Anyways..." He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears slightly flush into red. "Back to this bullshit."

You two talk back and forth about the project for a while, slipping into silence every now and then as you work on your respective slides.

In your peripheral, you noticed that every so often, he would glance up at you from his screen like clockwork. It makes you a bit too self aware of yourself, forcing you to keep your posture straight, not to bounce your leg too much, and to keep your fidgeting at bay.

"You're grinding your teeth." He mutters, breaking the silence. "I can hear it, like sandpaper."

"It's just a focus thing." You reply, biting the inside of your cheeks to combat the habit.

"I can't stop looking at them in class.." You hear from outside of the door, paired with the boys' giggling. "...They're all I can think about, I feel so stupid."

You and Touya both stop shoot each other a confused glance, not quite sure what Natsuo and Shouto were going on about in the hallway.

"What are they doing?" You lean in and whisper.

"I don't fucking know?" He shrugs. "Maybe reading one of Fuy's books?"

"How cute." You chuckle, returning your attention to the project.

"Prez would never want a guy like me. I want to do better, but I'm fucking hopeless." The boys start, their footsteps running up and down the hallway this time.

"Natsuo! That's a bad word, you can't say that!" Shouto cries.

Your eyes widened and glanced over at Touya, whose face had now drained of color, jaw slightly gaped open.

He slams his laptop shut and frantically feels around under his pillow and covers, as if he had misplaced something.

"What're you looking for?" You asked, watching him rummage through his school bag after going through his bed.

"I'm going to fucking kill them." He mutters, throwing his bag on the floor. "I'm actually going to kill them."

He walks over to swing his bedroom door open, revealing the two boys leaning against the wall with a book in hand, flipping through the pages.

"Where the fuck did you two get that!?"

The two younger boys scream and scurry down the hall with Touya right on their tail. You follow them out into the hallway, watching them run a muck around the house.

Natsuo and Shouto eventually circle their way back to Touya's room, shoving themselves right behind you a second before Touya is able to get to them.

"Guys?" You look down at Shouto clutching your leg and Natsuo breathing hard, peering over your shoulder. "What did you two do?" You put a hand down on the top of Shouto's head, tapping it to get his attention up at you.

"Natsuo did it!" He cries, burying his face into your side. "I didn't do anything." He muffled into your shirt.

"You're the one who gave me his diary, you liar!" Natsuo reaches over and flicks Shouto's head. "Shouto did it!"

"What the hell is going on?" Fuyumi comes out of her room.

"These fuckers went through my things." Touya huffs, face now red. "Y/N. Move over please." He inches closer.

"No! Y/N please!" Natsuo cries behind you, clutching on you tighter.

"Whoooaa. Okay, okay let's relax everyone." You nervously chuckle.

"You, take a step back." You put a finger on Touya's chest, lightly pressing him to take a couple steps back into the hallways.

You noticed Touya clenching onto a journal so tight that his knuckles were white, jaw tense seething with anger.

"You two, go with your sister." You pried the two kids from your side, ushering them towards Fuyumi, in which she properly slapped the back of their heads the moment they got to her.

"Idiots. What did I tell you guys? Get in." She huffs before closing the door behind them.

"Don't think you're safe! Your ass is grass once Y/N leaves." He calls out before the door clicks shut.

"You, stop it. Come inside." You pull him in by the elbow.

"Jesus fucking christ." He groans into his hands, throwing the journal on his bed. "You didn't hear any of that, alright? None of that happened."

"Yup. You got it." You silently chuckle to yourself. "Absolutely nothing."

You watch him shove the journal deep into his school bag before throwing it back on the ground and flopping down in his bed, face buried in his pillow.

"FUCK!" He screams into his pillow, tightly gripping the sides of it.

"Okay let's just finish this shit and get it over with." He huffs, turning on his back and leaning up against the headboard, dragging his laptop back up to his lap.

"Oh so you really didn't wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" He shoots you a threatening glance.

You ignored the hostile look, anyways. "You have a crush on me." You bite your bottom lip to hide a side. "That's what that was, right?"

"Who said all that shit was about you, huh?"

"You got another 'Prez' in your life?" You cock an eyebrow.

He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath of air.

"Let's not do this right now."

"That's fine." You turn your attention back to your laptop. "I'm just saying, though, you don't have to do 'better' for me to like you. I already do."

Another beat of silence passes.

"Cool. Cool." He squeaks out. "Um. Can you double check my slides for me?" He coughs.

You looked at him in your peripheral to see him covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, hiding the impending blush creeping up his face as he kept his eyes glued to his screen.

"Sure." You smiled. "Only if you double check mine."

-

bonus scene hehe:

over the next week of school, touya had been actively avoiding you- which you expected. it wasn't until one late school day where you had to stay behind for your council meeting when you caught him waiting by your cubby.

"touya." you greeted, holding out your bag for him to take while you started switching your shoes out. "what are you still doing here?"

"got a request to deliver to you, prez." he responds with a smirk, leaning up against the cubbies with your bag under his arm.

"oh yeah? well unfortunate for you, but i'm off the clock. you should file it in the student council box."

"it's a special request that can only be delivered in person." he rolls his eyes. "also i'm walking you home, so you don't really have a choice."

you laugh, starting your way out of school. "okay, then. go for it."

"go out with me this weekend."

your breath hitches from surprise. you had to admit to yourself that you had been waiting for some sort of confession or at the very least a chat about the last time you had seen him, but for him to almost demand a date with you caught you off guard.

"really?" you snap your attention to him, face heating up.

"really."

"i'd love to." you smile. "you feel like talking about it now? or do i gotta go through your diary for that?"

"shut up. it's a journal- two very different things." he nudges you with his elbow. "fuyumi yelled at me after you left and told me that i was an emotionally constipated prick, so i guess that inspired me to get my shit together."

"sooo.." you motion for him to continue.

"sooo...i like you. i have for a while." he starts "and i got my marks up for this quarter. for you. well, technically for me, but i wanted you to see that i was trying."

your heart swelled at this simple act. "you didn't have to do that. i told you i like you regardless- even after you set the toilet on fire."

"we don't talk about that version of me last year." he laughs "and i wanted to. you made me want to do it for me."

you two continue to walk home chirping in conversation and light teases. you had always been drawn to him despite his bad habits and annoying mannerisms, but you knew he always had it in him to do good things and make better choices for himself. knowing that he did it because of his inspiration to be a good person for you only made you like him more.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Soap has a bad habit. But he doesn't think it's... that bad. Just a joke between him and Ghost that he'd started, really. Well- it wasn't completely a joke to him, but it was to Ghost, so it didn't really matter. Or, it did but that was kinda... it was his own problem to deal with. Not that was the real bad habit of his, he jumps head first into everything and has to do damage control after.

It was him and Ghost on watch tonight, price and Gaz were soundly a sleep in the other side of the safehouse. They'd been tracking a target for the last three days, and hopefully wouldn't have too much longer before they could go take him into custody. That's not to say they haven't been busy, infact it would be more accurate to say they've been a little stretched thin between this target, and taking out a seperate enemy warehouse.

The night was quiet, interrupted only by the incessant frog chirps and cricket calls. Somehow it felt both tired, and restless. And like always, he opens his big mouth to break the tension that sprouts from somewhere he can't see.

"Go out with me, L.T?" He asked, tying the straw wrapper in his hands into a finger sized ring, and presenting it to the man.

"I don't want to do this tonight, Sargeant." Ghost says curtly. Ouch, he got ranked? In all fairness, soap supposes, Ghost is tired, worked to the bone like the rest of them. Soap doesn't fault him. So he drops it.

But ot does get his mind spinning. In two years, Ghost hasn't snapped at him about this stupid joke once, not like he just had anyway. Sure it wasn't harsh, but soap could read between the lines just fine. Ghost was tired of it, or maybe just too tired to deal with the uncomfortability of it. He's gotten that Ghost didn't want him the first time he rejected him, but he'd also laughed it off as a joke, so he'd been keeping his alibi ever since. Not that those attempts were ever disingenuous either, just that he was expecting the Answer. But he wouldn't have kept it up if he'd known it made Ghost uncomfortable. Maybe he should have known. He definitely should have with how much he studies the man. Looking at him now he can see the way Ghost's eyes flick to him, then away as he does an uncomfortable little shift, so small that if you weren't looking for it you wouldn't see it. But he does see it now.

"Ahm sor'y, Ghost." It takes him a very generous amount of time to put together the words he needs in a way that sounds genuine enough to his own ears. Longer still for him to speak them. "I hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable, I should have known." He rips at the straw paper as he speaks, "it never meant anything, if that makes you feel better." Then he falters a little, but he plows on, "ah'll um- ah'll stop joking about it." The once paper ring, now just a scrap of litter on the wooden table beneath his hands.

Ghost doesn't respond, just looks at him silently, and he feels a pit drop in his stomach. He wishes the ground would just swallow him up so he wouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of his own actions. The tension in the air pulls tight, tight enough to strangle them so he opens his mouth. Again.

"So.. did you hear about the kidnapping at school?.... he woke up." Soap chuckles, answering his own joke. It does not solve anything. If anything it makes it all worse, if the way Ghost doesn't even acknowledge it had anything to say about it. "Okay.." he resigns himself to a silent and uncomfortable watch for the night, he'll sleep it off tomorrow, stop making the jokes, and it'll all be fine.

I'd be fine for them. For him it wouldn't be, it wasn't since the first rejection, and it wasn't for the 83 other accumulated attempts, but he'll live. He has been, so he'll keep doing so. Even if it ached to breath around the thought. He'll just... not think about it.

"So it never meant anything?" The question catches him off guard and leaves him floundering. Ghost is looking at him when he glances up now. Yes! Yes! It did! It does! Everytime! All the time! His mind screams.

"No- never." He chokes out instead, the lie tastes sour on his tongue, and he's so sure Ghost has noticed. He's gonna get visibility uncomfortable with soap any second now. Soap knows it. Braces for it.

"You're lying?" But it sounds more like a statement. Almost sounds offended. Like Ghost is hurt that soap would try to lie to him. Which, quite frankly, doesn't make sense. Why couldn't he just accept it and move on, why does he have to torment soap about it.

Soap can't muster up another ill-tasting lie, so he just looks away.

"You did mean it." That one is a statement, one which soap cringes internally at. "Did.. did you mean it the first time?"

Soap doesn't want to answer. He really really doesn't. But he forces himself to nod, just once. The first one had meant the most to him.

"I thought you were joking... messing with me to have a laugh." Ghost admits quietly.

"I was. Kinda," he sighs, folding his arms on the table and dropping his head onto them, he mutters, "not... not really. I- I um- it was just... easier to laugh it off." His finger dejectedly traces idle shapes on the table. "This'll make an even 85, suppose that's as good a number as any to stop." He laments to himself.

"Ask me again."

"What?" He head shoots up in surprise.

"Ask me again." Ghost repeats.

"O- okay..." he picks at the skin around his thumbnail, "uhm.. I- uh.. would you.. gooutwithme?" He rushes the question out, not really wanting to drag out the inevitable answer.

"Ok." He said it so simple.

"I- huh?" He freezes.

"I want to go out with you." Ghost looks him in the eye. It makes soap's heart do a weird thing.

"Okay." He can't help the smile that spits his face, his knee bounces with giddiness, and he can't help but nudge Ghost boot with the toe of his own. Ghost does it back.

Tags: @queermentaldisaster @spottlessspectre @27potatochips @opiumprincess @canyoubethestalkertomytango @unhingedpolycule @bluebrryice @softberrybi @coquetterie-dancer @stuffireadandenjoy

Prolly gonna shove this on ao3 later

[starvail]

wdym i have a head dent?!

narumi gen / gn!spouse!reader

synopsis : "narumi gen is highly respected in his own division, with every officer following him with determination and every platoon leader dyeing their hair like him as a sign of respect."

content : only crack, fluff, gender neutral reader, reader works in jakdf, a few flashbacks, a little bit more on the lore side, the word beautiful is used to describe the reader, shinonome's age is just a guess, mostly shinonome pov, narumi should have his own warning fr, vice captain and platoon leaders are tired.

words : 1.7k

a/n : you can’t convince me that this man hasn’t went out on a mission with a head dent at least once-

part two of 'a cheers to our youth'

She remembers years ago, newly turned twenty, and nervously standing in front of your desk, arms crossed behind her back, posture rigid.

This would be the first time she will be meeting you in person, rather than listening to your demands through a communicator.

Now is the time to make the best lasting first impression. To prove that she is capable of handling things much bigger than an ordinary officer.

"Thank you very much for deeming me worthy of a rank review! I will not let you down!"

"Don't thank me for something as trivial as just a chance of a promotion. I know you'll do well in the future, Shinonome. The person you really need to impress is the First Captain."

You do not look up from your paperwork, and though many will see this as quite cold and rude, she's heard from numerous people that you simply do not have the time to entertain anything or anyone else within working hours.

The fact that you even spared a one-on-one meeting with her was an honour, and Shinonome will forever respect your dedication. Unfortunately, her lips move to articulate her thoughts before she could stop herself.

"I aspire to contribute to the Defence Force as much as you and Captain Narumi, Head! Please wait for me!" She slaps a hand over her mouth.

Stopping your editing to the paper before you, you look up at her in surprise at her outburst. Shinonome is swift in attempting to correct her statement.

"Uhm...! I did not mean it in that way, Head. A-Apologies for speaking out of line. I'll commence however many push ups-"

"Hahaha!" You made no move to hide your mirth and Shinonome does not know whether to be concerned or relieved at your reaction.

She curses at herself. Dammit, well done, Rin. You definitely made a lasting first impression alright. Great, now Head is gonna see you as a clown vying for their hand.

"No need for the push ups. I appreciate your passion, Shinonome. However, I am already married, so I will have to decline." It seems that you will not let her forget this. How cruel...

Wiping a forming tear at the edge of your eye, you sigh lightheartedly. "It's a good thing that you didn't say that to your Captain or else his head would blow up bigger than it already is!"

By now, the officer is bright red at her blunder before your words catch up to her. Wait, married...? Weren't you only a year or two older than her? Is she already falling behind her peers in yet another department?!

And though she does not say her thoughts aloud this time, you seem to be able to read her befuddled face too well. You hold up your hand and lift two fingers up like a peace sign, a soft smile adorning your own face.

At that moment, Shinonome realises that you are much friendlier in person compared to when you are communicating with Captain Narumi.

During missions, it was like listening to dogs fighting.

"I am two years older than you, I think, If I remember reading your files correctly. I just got married really young so don't worry too much about finding love or whatnot for now. Live in the present and all that." You wave off casually.

"If I may be so bold to ask..." Shinonome only now notices the metal band that you adorn around your fourth finger and shyly looks at her own twiddling bare fingers.

"Hm? Go ahead." Your focus is still on her.

"What age did you get married?"

"Eighteen."

"?!"

You burst back into laughter when Shinonome's composed and seemingly nonchalant persona crumbles and she is left there dumbfounded.

A feint 'don't mind' playfully slips out as you excuse yourself to deliver your now finished papers and pat her shoulder on your way to the door.

Shinonome finds that you will truly not let her live down her moment in your office.

Even months later, after she was proven competent and promoted to Platoon Leader. Be it during a mission, passing each other in the corridor, or in a meeting.

("Platoon Leader Shinonome, please wait for me in my office after this." / "Shinonome, please wait for the arrival of new equipment sent over by...." / "Ah, Rin. Thanks for waiting for me, traffic was atrocious today!" All of those interactions being followed by a knowing smirk.)

Despite this, the two of you have grown closer, more casual. Dare she say that the two of you were even friends.

She learnt that you are married to the Narumi Gen and that you have known him since you were children (she had always assumed those endearments he torments you with during missions were a joke).

Learns you prefer drinking iced coffee rather than hot.

You only wear shoes you can very easily slip on.

You like to make edits to documents using a purple pen rather than the standard red.

You personalise your lab coats by stitching your initials and operator number to the cuffs (swearing her to secrecy, you tell her that you also stitch Captain Narumi's initials, but instead at the cuffs, it's hidden inside the pocket over where your heart is).

In spite of your seemingly intimidating work front, you are still very much human.

(Years down the line, Shinonome has well learnt that you were never scary, or aloof, or anything of the sort. She guesses your role in the Defence Force just forces you to seem like it, given your importance.)

Shinonome also learns that you and Narumi dye each other's hair.

"Oh, this?" You motion to the groupings of fresh silver highlights in your hair. The Platoon Leader had to deliver some documents and noticed the change and decided to compliment you on it, it fits you. She asks if you had it done professionally.

It looks really nice... maybe she would suit something similar?

"No, I didn't go to a salon. You think I have the money for that sort of thing?" Yes, yes you do, Head.

"I've been dyeing Captain Loser's hair since we were teenagers, and he decided while we were touching up his roots that it's been a while since we were matching and wouldn't leave me alone otherwise. I didn't get to sleep until two last night!"

You say it with such disdain that if she were a new recruit, she would think that you meant it.

But Shinonome knew you better than that, because you could never hide the adoration that shone through your irises, or the fondness in your smile.

Perhaps, one day, she will meet someone that would elicit the same reaction when talking about her...

"He wanted to do my hair without my help so now there's a chunk of under layer hair that's all silver instead of just highlights. If you look even closer, you might see just bleached bits that he forgot to colour! He botched it!"

She would be lying if she were to say she wasn’t jealous.

You are beautiful and intelligent and considerate and sincere. And though you are not physically strong, you show your strength in a plethora of other ways, your contributions named on newspapers displayed along your office walls are evident of that. Your strategies and tactics have led many to victory and the Eastern Defence Force is as strong as ever.

Truly, you and Narumi Gen are forces to be reckoned with and Shinonome could not be more thankful to be so in reach.

She does not realise she was staring at you for so long until you speak up.

"Ah! Would you like me to do your hair sometime?"

"Oi, Dumbass. Stop trying to act cool in front of the newbies."

Narumi, dramatically posing solemnly atop a fresh kaiju corpse, tilts his head back to face the flying drone's camera and shows off a smirk at the sound of your voice.

"Well, if it isn't my darling dearest, everything okay at Comms?" He waves lazily, but this seems to irk you more.

"You were playing Underwatch, when I told you not to, weren't you." You frame it as a statement, rather than a question.

Everyone in Operations and Officers around Narumi watches as their Captain's jaw drops to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull.

He is quick to grab at the drone and shakes it wildly, as if it was a person he was trying to gouge information out of. The propellers are swift to turn off, you knew this kind of reaction was coming from miles away.

"Who snitched?!" His face is all up on the camera.

At this point, Narumi knew that it was of his best interest to admit the truth rather than make up excuses on the spot, especially if you used that tone.

But how could you have possibly found out? He even made sure to download a special VPN so you couldn't track his gameplay! Was it Hasegawa? It had to have been Hasegawa. Damn you, Hasegawa-

"Your galactic-sized head dent gave it away. Do you not have enough sense to at least fix it before you leave for duty?" You sigh on the other end of the mic, disappointment evident in your admonishment.

"Huh?"

The drone starts up again and Narumi is forced to let go as it turns to face ninety degrees away from him and projects a hologram of himself, but from his side.

Lo and behold, all of the Captain's hair is sticking straight up, as per usual when he is in combat, except for the areas at the centre of his skull, a clear band of hair matted down with a sheen of presumably sweat.

"Pfft, I hope the news articles capture this very flattering side of you! 'What a loser,' they'll all say." You do your best to cover up a snicker. The drone is now happily emoting like an actual person, tilting side to side as if it were someone's head, taunting him.

"NO!!" Narumi is on his knees, frantically trying to fix his hair while maniacal laughter resonates from the floating device.

From a distance, a certain Platoon Leader watches on, irked. Out of all of the people to admire for the power they bring to the Defence Force, out of all the people to strive to be like, why did it have to be these two?

[stsgooo]

Clumsiness.

✩࿐ summary: maomao notices that the eunuch's behavior is odd recently. she's set on discovering the root of the cause.

warning(s): idiots in love, slight angst, mentions of bullying, fluffy, maomao pov. wc; 3.1k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader

a/n: binge watched all of tad last night and wanted to write smth for jinshi just because i have my weaknesses. i don't know exactly what this is except random rambles. anywayyy, i haven't read the manga yet so please no spoilers :3

m.list ao3

THERE'S VARIOUS THINGS THAT MAOMAO SIMPLY DOESN'T CARE FOR. The uncomfortable mornings where it's too chilly, the work she catches after one of the servants loves her ideas, and idle chatter that comes with silence. However, the thing she doesn't care for the most is when Eunuch Jinshi decides to make his random and surprise appearances.

It usually brought trouble and a headache for her. His smiles and violet eyes staring into her very soul. She never looked forward to them as it always accompanied some random job in another part of the palace she simple didn't like. Or he would ask of her some impossible task that not even the gods could grant him. Maomao could do without Jinshi's behavior.

However, she could easily recognize when he wasn't acting himself. On this day particularly, she was especially aware of Jinshi's lack of excitement.

She was called and pulled aside from her duty's in the Jade Pavilion to report to Jinshi's quarters. She was quick and made little pause in her stride over. A simple routine that they both silently agreed to. He would call and she would make her way over as quickly as possible.

It was when she arrived, she realized things were not to routine.

Jinshi was laying face flat against his desk, unmoving except for his breathing. Usually, he'd be sat up, smirk on his lips, and his legs crossed as he regarded her smugly. But now, it was like she wasn't even in the room as he made small groaning sounds of disdain, his fingers tangled into his tresses as he gripped his scalp.

He was definitely not acting like himself from the bat.

"Xiaomao, thank you for coming on such short notice." Gaoshun greeted her with a small bow, offering her a sympathetic glance as he turned his attention to Jinshi. "Jinshi-sama had a matter he'd like you to take care of."

Maomao raised her eyebrows, eyes cutting back to Jinshi who remained unmoved. Is he going to present the matter himself? She thought, watching as Gaoshun inched closer, nudging the younger man's shoulder with his elbow. He seems quite the mess.

"Apothecary," Jinshi's voice was muffled as he spoke, his head still tucked into his arms. Maomao looked to Gaoshun who just sighed heavily, ducking his head. "A servant from the Garnet Pavilion has fallen ill, I'd like for you to help her feel better."

"What's her symptoms?" Maomao asked, eyes watching the pathetic man flatly.

He tensed, his head moving to peek at her from between his arms. "I fear this is more a matter of the mind."

She frowned. "I can't cure the mind, Jinshi-sama."

He finally pushed himself to sit up, an indignant pout on his lips. "I thought you could do anything." He retorted smartly.

"I never said that."

Honestly, this man asked too much of her too quickly. It was enough that he asked her to solve murders of high ranking military officials, but it felt a little much to ask her to cure some girl's mental ailments. A random girl who had probably contributed to the near death of Lady Lihua at that. Maomao already felt a vague frustration fill her at the thought. Maybe it was one of the girls she had the pleasure intimidating.

She was going to decline when she spotted the look in his eyes. Not the flirtatious or rather perverted glint it usually had, but a desperate one.

"Can you at least try?" He almost sounded defeated, his shoulders hunched and eye bags heavy.

Maomao still felt the overwhelming urge to give him a hard time. "Try what, exactly?"

He released a frustrated grumble, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Maybe lend an ear, or offer some type of comfort? Anything that will possibly ease her nerves." He waved a flippant hand around, eyebrows knitted together. "It's making me wo... it's making Lady Lihua unsettled."

Maomao couldn't help the interest that came with his unspoken words. He was worried? It wasn't uncommon, nor did it seem that he would hide his concern for others. But the mere fact that he had corrected himself and tried to cover it up, piqued her curiosity and interest.

Either way, she had no choice.

Maomao tucked her hands into her sleeves, bowing. "I can make an attempt. Now, if you'll excuse me." She turned away, barely missing Jinshi's hopeful and beaming expression. She was about to exit when she happened to glance towards the sitting area, where a tea set sat, broken and contents seeping into the floor. Her eyebrows raised. "You'll carpet is going to stain."

She paid no mind to the loud groan and thud of Jinshi's head as she exited.

It took Maomao a while to find the girl that had Jinshi worried and she had learned quite a bit about the worrisome girl while on her search.

She had been in the palace for a long time, since she was a young child. Her work had mostly consisted of cleaning clothes and mending. Until she had caught the attention of Lady Lihua a few months ago while she was in recovery. Supposedly, she had started to bring an arrangement of flowers whenever she brought clothes. The kindness hadn't gone unnoticed. She had supposedly been accepted into Lady Lihua's personal servants. Much to the chagrin of the other servants.

It didn't take a genius to detect the disdain and disgust in the servants voices when Maomao had inquired about her.

She talks to herself more than anyone else, stated one with an eyeroll.

Her routine is more important than Lady Lihua's wishes. Our poor lady. Mourned another.

She's so on edge, it's really easy to get her worked up. It's not our fault if she breaks something. Snapped another.

General consensus, this servant was a problem.

However, it was what Lady Lihua said herself that caught Maomao's attention.

She had stumbled across the concubine during her search, the woman flanked by two of her servants. She looked to enjoying a pleasant day and appeared slightly happy to see Maomao, going as far to inquire what she was doing over in her pavilion. When Maomao informed her of her task, she was interested to see the small pinch between her brow.

Ah, Y/N, I haven't seen her much today. I sent her to help with mending clothes. She's kind, just... I hope.... Well, I hope you can find her and bring her back. Lady Lihua offered little else to guide Maomao, but she could see the vague concern, the worry in the woman's eyes. She also saw that disgust in her companions eyes.

Who exactly was this servant?

Maomao found herself in the washing area. It was mostly silent, most of the girls either having dinner, or in bed. She made her way to the back where one of the few stragglers sat alone, sniffling as she scrubbed away at a stained robe...

A robe that looked oddly similar to Jinshi's.

In all honesty, she wasn't sure how to approach this. As she spotted the red shamed cheeks and the tears that silently and boldly made their way down the woman's cheeks, Maomao usually had something psychical to cure. An aliment that weighed heavily on their health, that was life or death. She could make a medicine for that. A drink, a food, a cream-- something that would satisfy the monster resting in someone's body.

The mind, though, the mind simply was a territory that Maomao never touched. Much too difficult, much too complicated, it was unknown territory. She couldn't see things from their point of view.

Just try lending an ear.

Maomao cleared her throat, feeling a speck of sympathy as she watched the girl tense, head snapping over to stare back with wide eyes. "Hi, are you the servant from the Garnet Pavilion?"

If possible, her eyes widened more, her hands clutching the robe to her chest. "Y-Yes..." she uttered, watching Maomao closely. "You're that apothecary everyone's been talking about..."

Not a question, but an observation.

Said apothecary nodded in return, "Yes."

The girl shook her head, "I'm not injured! I swear, I-I was foolish and if I was injured, then I would surely deserve it!" Her face was a deep crimson, her lips trembling, and eyes watering. It was obvious she was attempting desperately to push down the tears, but failing miserably. "I-I'm quite alright!"

"You don't look it." Maomao responded back flatly. "Jinshi-sama sent me."

The girl looked appalled, her back straightening and the tears falling freely now. "J-Jinshi?!" She exclaimed, clutching the stained robe against her chest, aghast and sickly looking as she panted. "O-Oh, I've done it now. I've humiliated myself! I'm going to be punished! Jinshi didn't deserve that! I'm so sorry."

Maomao blinked at her, eyebrows raised high at the reaction. She didn't entirely blame the girl for reacting so brashly at the mention of Jinshi. She would probably do the same if she was having a horrible day and he'd been brought up. Possibly the only person she wouldn't want to hear about as she's actively in the throes of a breakdown of some sort.

She walked forward, sitting down beside her as the girl seemed to continue her one sided conversation with herself. Her eyes wide and unrelenting as she stared at the ground below. Maomao watched her with a dent between her brow, vaguely fascinated by the panic and mostly disturbed by the anger towards herself. The mini glare not directed to anyone except herself.

She'd seen women be harsh on themselves. Seen what it could do to a person. Maomao could see it in the girl beside her now. The edge of a line that she wasn't sure if she should cross.

"I-I just...." The poor girl trailed off, her hands falling back to her lap as she stared at the robe. "I'm so clumsy.... and terribly embarrassing.... and I-I was just trying to pour some tea, then...oh, how pathetic."

"It was an accident, wasn't it?" Maomao asked softly, watching the girl's reaction closely.

She seemed to remember Maomao was with her, blinking, her face growing a shade darker. "What?"

"Whatever you did, it was an accident, wasn't it?" She repeated.

The girl clenched her jaw, looking away once again. "It's always an accident. I never do anything right. The Emperor is bound to notice and then I'll be punished because I'm so--"

"Jinshi-sama didn't send me to punish you or to check if you should be." The girl blinked, staring at her with wide eyes now. Maomao could see the barely concealed shock in her eyes, the way she seemed to relax slightly. The apothecary sighed heavily, turning her attention elsewhere. "He doesn't seem the type to punish anyone for a little mistake. Especially, when he's the same..."

The last part was uttered to herself and the girl didn't seem to pick it up as she pressed her lips together. A contemplative look on her expression. "I-I know, but.... still, I feel so guilty. I've put such a heavy burden onto Jinshi, convincing Lihua-sama to take me in... to not complain too harshly... I never wanted this..."

Maomao wouldn't even try to understand the broken speech, instead her mind was focused on that little slip. Jinshi convinced Lady Lihua to take this girl in? A extreme kindness. A extreme kindness that would allow this girl to make mistakes, to try her hardest and fail, and not suffer extreme consequences. Maomao couldn't help the suspicious kick in her chest. As she stared at the rambling girl. Why would Jinshi do that for her as an eunuch? How did he have that type of pull? Or, more correctly, what did he have over Lady Lihua to pull something like this off?

Her attention diverted to the robe and she huffed-- it's was Jinshi's. She was the cause of the tea mess. The cause of Jinshi's red face, his low mood, and the worry on his face.

Could he, perhaps..... Oh, what a development for a eunuch.

"Are they cruel to you?" Maomao cut into her rambles once again.

"Who?"

"The other servants. They can be cruel."

There was a prolonged silence. Maomao didn't dare interfere or break with the concentration. Her thoughts were wild and she was trying to grasp one that would benefit exactly what the apothecary was searching for. A string of thought that was sensical and helpful.

"Yes... so cruel," her lips wobbled again, she sniffled and tried to push the emotions away. "I didn't even do anything and they were so cruel. I tried telling Jinshi, but he's done... done so much for me, I can't throw that away. I can't take advantage of his kindness."

"Even if it was kindness now, how is feeling like this any type of comfort? Or kindness?" Maomao stood up, waving a hand. "You don't have to feel like this. Like you have to suffer for his feelings. If you're close, tell him that you liked your prior job, or ask for another."

The girl blinked slowly, lazily, a new exhaustion in her eyes as she regarded the other. "W-What's your name?"

She straightened. "Maomao." She bowed.

The girl stood, her hands tucked into her sleeves, she bowed in return. "Thank you, Maomao. It's been my pleasure to meet you."

Things seemed to return to normal, the routine was back in place, and Maomao hadn't been tasked with taking care of crying servants. Her conversation with Jinshi afterwards had been short and straight to the point.

Did you speak with her? Jinshi had been sitting at his desk pleasantly, ignoring the overwrought expression on Gaoshun's face.

Yes. Maomao had answered, eyeing Gaoshun oddly as he shook his head.

Jinshi perked up, And? What did she say?

I believe she's going to speak to you directly when she has the chance, Jinshi-sama. She informed him instantly.

Jinshi had beamed in a way that made Maomao weary, watching as he happily threw himself from his chair and up, already walking towards the door. Well, I'll just find her myself! Thank you, Apothecary!

She didn't get to say anything in return as he vanished around the door. Gaoshun offered his sympathies before running to follow the man out.

Maomao was just glad to have things back to normal. That's what she thought about as she approached Jinshi's quarters. Normalcy was welcomed and her heart was happy to return to things she knew. Medicine and the frolicking in the mini patches of growth she could take herbs from. Things were normal.

As Maomao approached, she was skeptical to enter as she heard a crash.

Okay, maybe not entirely normal.

She knocked on the door, hoping to hear that Jinshi was busy, but the door was opened and Gaoshun stood there with a thin smile.

"Xiaomao, thank you for coming." He bowed and stepped aside to let her inside.

When Maomao entered, she was half tempted to turn back around and leave.

Jinshi's face was stuck in a frozen state of shock, a crimson shade and his jaw dropped. He was sitting on the couch and his hands were up. In front of him, on her knees, was Y/N, frantically rubbing at his robe while apologizing profusely. She didn't sound like she was crying, but still sounded extremely embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, Jinshi! My shoes are a tad big-- No, I'm not making an excuse!" She frantically tried to explain, pulling back to stare up at Jinshi with wide eyes. He remained unmoved, just making small noises of distress. "Jinshi, are you alright...?"

"I-I..I..." Jinshi just blinked at the wall across from him.

Maomao turned to Gaoshun, expression flat, "Can I come back later?"

Gaoshun looked ready to respond when Y/N spun around, her expression pulled up with delight and a beaming smile on her face. "Maomao!" She left Jinshi to his shock to wrap her arms around the younger girl (by one year). A tight hug that was unrelenting and conveying her exact emotions of pure elation. "My savior!"

Savior? Maomao thought as she blinked, arms stuck at her side. What is she even doing here?

She pulled back, placing her hands on her shoulder's, squeezing. "Thank you so much, Maomao! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be blessed!" She continued on with her delight.

"Blessed?" Maomao audibly questioned, eyebrows furrowed and raised.

She nodded in response, smiling happily as she clutched onto Maomao's hands. "Yes! You gave me the confidence to tell Jinshi about my unhappiness! He's allowing me to work at his attending maid." She informed gracefully, sounding more happy and carefree than she had in the washing area the weeks prior.

Maomao wouldn't admit it, but it made her lips twitch upwards.

Y/N suddenly paled, turning back around. "Oh, Jinshi, I'll get something to clean up with!" And she darted out the room before Jinshi could give any type of response.

Maomao turned her attention to Jinshi with a tilted head, finding great amusement in his embarrassment. "You must be really fond of her if you gave her a job here." She observed.

If possible, Jinshi's complexion darkened further, his posture straightening. "Pardon?" He squawked, eyes wide as they stared at the younger girl.

She didn't understand why he was acting like she had said something scandalous. It wasn't uncommon for someone to grow fond of another's presence. Even if they were stripped of their manhood and promised to the Emperor for life. Y/N was kind enough and Maomao assumed they were friends of some kind to have Jinshi calling in favors of some kind.

Still... his reaction...

"You two seem like good friends." Maomao clarified.

A weight seemed to lift of his shoulders as he leaned back into the couch. "Yes, I suppose we are." His voice was a mere utter, soft and distant. It appeared that he was contemplating something forgotten or something that he often thought about but pushed into the back of his mind.

Y/N reentered with a cloth and small basin of water. She returned to Jinshi's side who stared at her with a blush and wide eyes. The attention he gave her was close and unwavering. No type of falter and no distraction that could possibly take away his attention. She appeared completely oblivious as she scrubbed away at the stain on his robe resting on his thigh.

Maomao narrowed her eyes on the glitter in Jinshi's eye, ready to make a comment, when Gaoshun placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll inform you of the favor, Xiaomao." And he tugged her away.

However, Maomao thought endlessly about the expression on Jinshi's face. The kindness he exhibited for the girl much too clumsy for her own good. The tenderness he regarded her with. It was almost as if... Well, that couldn't be right.

It was almost as if Jinshi liked Y/N. In a more than friendly way.

Maomao scoffed at the thought, laying down in her bed. Her pa always said she was too speculative. Much too whimsical.

The man was an eunuch after all.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)

summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so

name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging

this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?

top gun masterlist

You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.

For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.

They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.

Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.

"Settle a bet for us, Junior."

Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.

"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.

Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.

"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"

You didn't even flinch.

"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.

"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."

You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.

You counted to five.

"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.

You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.

And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.

...

It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....

Well.

Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.

Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.

When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.

Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.

"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"

You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.

"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."

He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.

"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."

You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.

"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.

"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"

...

The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.

Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.

You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.

And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-

"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"

You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.

"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.

"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"

You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.

"Whatever you want", you nodded.

It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.

"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.

"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."

His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.

Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.

But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.

Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.

He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.

"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---

There.

At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.

You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.

For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.

You wanted him.

With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.

So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.

You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.

Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.

He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?

You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.

Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.

Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.

That made him grin a little.

"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."

He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.

"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.

Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.

That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.

He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.

The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.

Which he did.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.

You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...

Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.

You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.

You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.

But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.

"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."

He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"

You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.

"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.

And then he pulled away completely.

You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.

No.

Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.

He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.

Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.

You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.

One, two.

One, two.

You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.

Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.

"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.

"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-

"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"

He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.

At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...

Fuck!

"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-

"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."

He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.

Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.

His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.

His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.

You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -

More.

He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.

Please.

He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.

Bradley.

You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-

pressure.

His thumb on your clit.

You screamed out his name.

Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.

He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.

You blinked once. Twice.

He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.

Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.

"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"

A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?

"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."

"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"

He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.

"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.

"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"

A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.

"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"

You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.

"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."

You could feel his grin against your bare skin.

"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.

Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...

An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.

His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-

He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.

"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.

He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.

"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.

He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.

As always.

"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."

You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.

"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."

And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?

So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.

A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.

You could have come from that alone.

Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-

"Wait", you panted.

Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.

"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"

Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...

"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.

You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.

So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).

"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."

Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.

"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.

He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."

He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.

"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"

You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.

"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."

"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."

You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.

"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."

You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.

"Please, Roos-"

He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-

"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."

He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.

His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.

"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.

You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.

Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.

You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.

You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.

"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-

"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.

You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.

"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.

"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."

His smile deepened, but he didn't move.

"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."

You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.

Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.

You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.

So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.

He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.

"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.

But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.

Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.

Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.

"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.

"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."

He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.

Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.

You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.

You were getting impatient again. You needed more.

Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.

"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.

"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."

His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.

"Good girl", he rasped.

You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.

Good girl.

You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.

You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.

You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.

Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.

But you could barely hear them.

You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.

He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.

You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.

You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.

"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."

He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.

"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."

A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?

"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.

He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.

Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.

He thrust back into you in one swift motion.

And you screamed.

You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.

Only touch, only feel him.

The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.

He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.

His hand closed around your throat at the same time.

You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.

You clenched around him.

Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.

You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.

You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.

You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.

You never wanted this to end.

You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.

A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.

"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.

"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.

He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.

He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.

You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.

You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.

Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.

That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.

Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.

He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.

You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.

"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.

"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.

"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.

"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."

"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."

"I think of work."

You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.

"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"

Bradley froze.

Bullseye.

"What did you say?"

His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.

"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"

[itsanidiom]

OFFICE BLS RANKED BY THEIR ABILITY TO MAINTAIN THE VENEER OF APPROPRIATE WORKPLACE BEHAVIOUR

Because I saw @sorry-bonebag's tag and had to.

Here we go! Disclaimer: I'm not going to list every Office BL™ these are just the ones I've seen. Sorry if your fav is missing! Let's start with our lowest scorer that definitely sets the tone for the bottom of the barrel.

CHECK OUT - The veneer is tracing paper if not completely transparent. Fucking in the office. Yeah. That's an HR violation for sure. Thankfully your company is too small to have an HR department. But you're definitely getting fired by your boss who is also your boyfriend who you are also cheating on.

BED FRIEND - The veneer is only considered opaque because everyone else in the office is blind as hell. HR is pretty sure you two fucked in the office bathroom, but they have no proof so could only give you a warning.

LOVE MATE - Veneer is 1-ply. I mean, if the whole office ships it, is it truely an issue? HR thanks you for keeping things PG.

WE BEST LOVE: FIGHTING MR. 2ND - The veneer is definitely paper thin, but it's 2-ply. At least you avoided fucking in the office. Just a good smack in the face and some mutual sexual harassment. HR win...I guess.

HISTORY4: CLOSE TO YOU - Veneer is getting a little thicker, but depends on the light. Rooftop and in-office grandiose love confessions aside, HR thanks you for keeping your higher heat make out sessions off business hours. Still, gossiping about your romantic interests with your coworkers is grounds for a warning.

OUR DATING SIM - Veneer is about as thick as the space between your legs through which HR can see that you're literally holding hands in the office right now, stop it.

STEP BY STEP - The veneer is solid. Mainly office stuff happens in the office. HR approves of this boring as hell vibe. Still, you get marked down slightly because you did almost get down in the company parking garage.

CHERRY MAGIC - The veneer is a wholesome thickness, but no kissing in the company elevator. HR slap on the wrist for sure. We don't care how quickly the doors closed. There is CCTV in that elevator, sirs.

JUN & JUN - The veneer is currently in the process of being painted on so we'll have to wait and see, but it's looking pretty thin so far. HR has their pens ready to write up the report.

OLD FASHION CUPCAKE - The veneer is solid, but HR saw you hugging in the coffee station. Thank you for waiting until you were off work hours to make out, I guess. Enjoy your fancy desserts.

ROOMATES OF POONGDUCK 304 - The veneer is there. HR heard some weird noises over the zoom call, but we're just going to ignore those for now.

[songsofadelaide]

"Hey, Platoon Leader, are you guys trying to be the next Shinomiyas?"

You looked up from your plate of food and gave Kafka an incredulous look from across your shared table. "...What?"

The older officer raised his hands in defence when he caught the strange look on your face. "O-Oh, you know! The Director General and his wife, the former Captain of the Second Division. They were a power couple. I just thought you guys were similar is all..."

"Kafka-san, you better clarify whatever it is you're saying," you chuckled at his statement. "Though I definitely do not mind being compared to the Second Division Captain Shinomiya Hikari, the gods rest her soul. She was brilliant, after all! A shining example to so many young women, myself included. We could have stood to learn a thing or two from her..."

It was a tragedy, you thought. The Director General had always been a serious man, but the unexpected death of his wife made him all the more. And now that Kafka mentioned it, the weight of the idea rested even heavier on your mind. The higher you two rise in the ranks, the more will be expected of you. The more numbered Kaiju appear, the more you will have to set out in their field.

The higher the danger risk, the more skilled personnel will have to be deployed. And seeing how the top brass acknowledged your fiancé's most recent accomplishment— subduing and neutralising Kaiju No. 10— the likelihood of him being assigned even more dangerous missions will only increase—

"You think the Vice Captain would consider growing out a beard too when he becomes Director General? Like Director General Shinomiya. I mean you did mention once that his old man was grizzled and all..." Kafka asked aloud as he helped himself to his lunch.

???

His question was so left-field that you couldn't help the laughter that escaped your stomach. "Pfft— What?! Kafka-san, wh— Hahaha!"

"I-I'm serious, though, Platoon Leader?! A beard would make him even more menacing!"

"Haha! N-No, okay, okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry for bursting out laughing like that! I-It's just— Soshiro grows stubbles at an alarming rate and he always shaves because he hates being told he'd look like his father with a beard," you said, nearly breathless and tears prickling your eyes. You continued to speak as you calmed down, the seriousness of your expression prompting your lunchmate to pause his meal. "I might not be able to achieve Captain Shinomiya's legendary level of coolness or renown, but I think as long as I continue accomplishing orders, that's good enough for me."

Arriving at your table not long after your fit of laughter were the Vice Captain and another recruit— one who happened to hear your conversation right from the start.

"I—" Kikoru started, her plate slightly trembling in her hands as you met her earnest gaze. "I think you're just as cool as Captain Shinomiya, Platoon Leader! More importantly, I'd like f-for you and Vice Captain Hoshina to always be safe while in the battlefield so you can both live long and fulfilling lives! Th..."

The kind her mother never got to live.

Soshiro took his place next to you as Kafka gestured for them to sit at your shared table.

"Thank you, Kikoru-chan. I am honoured you think so highly of me. If there's anyone feels the loss our amazing Captain Shinomiya the most, that would be you," you said as you reached for the younger girl's shaking fist from across the table, giving her a gentle yet reassuring squeeze. "If Soshiro and I ever do become the Defense Force's next power couple, I can only hope we have a child as talented and dedicated as you are."

"That's assumin' we're actually still a couple," Soshiro quipped. "I could hear you laughin' at Kafka's joke from across the building. Whatever did he tell you that was so funny, sweetness?"

"Kafka-san here was just saying how cool you would look grizzled with a beard all over your handsome, handsome mug," you shot back at him as you gently gripped his chin to force him to face you. "But don't worry, sweetness, I like you just the way you are now."

Kikoru's hands flew to her mouth as her face suddenly flushed. H-How lovey-dovey of them!

"You're already plenty menacing with that sly look of yours," you continued, before slapping the table so hard that it surprised both Kafka and Kikoru, who were staring in awe at just how affectionate their superiors were being. "Now eat, eat, eat up, our little fledgelings! Eating right, getting enough sleep, and exercising are key to living long! Let's not miss out on even one of those!"

Soshiro smiled as you ate your fill along with your favourite new recruits, though he'd never hear you say that out loud. Being a power couple never appealed to him because all that mattered to him were saving lives and staying alive— to be able to live in the future you were all so earnestly fighting for.

I suppose having someone to proudly stand next to isn't such a bad idea.

[cosmerelists]

If Other Stormlight Characters Served as the King's Wit

As requested by anon. :)

"The King's Wit" is there to insult people in the king's stead. In this role, Hoid basically gets to stand at the entrance to feasts and make fun of people. It's a good gig for him. But what if other characters had this job?

1. The Stormfather

Stormfather (rumbling with displeasure): You have broken an oath today. Stormfather: You promised your son that you would play "Shattered Plains" with him this afternoon, but you did not. Stormfather: Though you feast for today, my storm winds shall one day scatter your dishonored bones. Elhokar (visibly sweating): Ha ha my new Wit sure is, ah, intense!

2. Kaladin

Kaladin: Ew. Another Lighteyes... Kaladin: Sniff, sniff! Smells like the exploitation of the powerless in here! Kaladin: I can name a dozen men better than you and guess what--they're ALL darkeyed. Kaladin: Nice outfit--did it come free with your ancestral privilege?  Elhokar (muttering to himself): I will not put him in jail again, I will not put him in jail again, I will not...

3. Shallan

Shallan: [sketching] Hapless Lighteyed guest: Is that...me? Shallan: It is! [shows Ideal Self portrait--it's the same person, only their sadness and distrust is gone and they shine with an earnest and honest light, looking out toward their future] Hapless Lighteyed Guest (visibly tearing up): I...It's beautiful. Shallan: Please, go ahead & take it! Elhokar: Shallan-Wit, why is everyone at my feast introspective and crying? Shallan: I'm really good at art.

4. Adolin

Adolin: Wow! You are so brave to put those colors together, and in a style from two years ago ago! Adolin: You are almost pulling it off. 

5. Dalinar

Dalinar: Hello. I could not help but overhear your heated argument, my friends. Dalinar: It reminds me of a tale from the Way of Kings, which I will now quote from memory... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Aaaaand, they fled. Dalinar: That's the third time that's happened this evening.

6. Ialai

Ialai: [hands hapless lighteyed guest a folded-up sheet of paper] Hapless Lighteyed Guest: W-Where did you get this information about me? And my husband? And my...former boyfriend's sister's cousin? Ialai: [merely smiles] Hapless Lighteyed Guest: W-What do you want? Please! I'll do anything! Ialai: Why...nothing at all. Yet. Please enjoy the feast.

7. Lift

Lift: Mmmm....4. Lift: A solid 6! Lift: Perhaps a 5, but ONLY because of those pants. Lift: Wow! An 8! Wyndle: P-Please mistress, I don't think the job of the King's Wit is to rank the butts of all attendees! Lift: They need to know.

8. Jasnah

Hapless Lighteyed Guest: Ugh, I don't think it's right for the king to employ a heretic as his Wit! Jasnah: It's strange--one might think that your faith in the Almighty would inspire you to strive to be a good man, yet in reality your mother weeps each and every night to have produced a son who loves drinking and gambling more than he loves his children, his wife, or indeed the Almighty. Jasnah: Should you wish to inspire faith in others, perhaps you should try to demonstrate even the smallest reason why yours has produced an iota of good for anyone in this world aside from yourself. Elhokar (across the room, watching): I...am afraid.

9. Lopen

Lopen: Hey, I know you! I got a cousin in your army! Lopen: He always laughs 'bout how weird it is that your officers make the men pay for their own boots 'n' stuff 'cause it's an army not a charity, right? But then your officer son gets an allowance which is funny 'cause that kinda seems like the 'charity' thing that an army isn't! Lopen: We Herdazians tend to use a word to mean a thing, yeah? But you Alethi sure like to make a word mean whatever it is you want!

10. Szeth & Nightblood

Nightblood: Evil. Evil. Evil. Definitely evil. Big evil! Little evil, but still evil. Szeth: You've identified every guest so far as evil, sword-nimi. Nightbood: Yeah, I'm so good at detecting evil! So when does the slaying start? Szeth: I told you. I don't murder entire parties anymore. That is my past, but it does not have to be my future. Nightblood: But you're the King's Wit! You got wit-tle down the evil, right? Szeth: That is not what that means, sword-nimi. Nightblood: ... Szeth: ... Nightblood: People sure do speed up when they have to walk past us, huh? Szeth: I am pretty sure that means we're doing a good job.

[wandering-tides]

People always rank either Ei or Zhongli (or both) above Venti in power rankings. Like, who is the strongest archon? There are always two answers: Morax or Beelzebul. Never Barbatos.

I like to think otherwise.

This guy has cut mountains with his winds and thrown them so far away into the sea, made winter disappear and turned Mond into what it is today: from a barren rocky land that used to be filled with snow and raging blizzards into this green plain field with gentle winds where agriculture is so much easier then it ever was back then. I don't think people of Old Mond could have ever imagined for Mond to turn into what it is today.

But he still calls himself weak. And people took that to face value. And some still do despite it being proven otherwise by Nahida.

Venti said that an archon derives their power from ruling over their nation. But Nahida denies this later and says that archons gain their power through the faith of the people.

Clearly, Venti lied to us.

And if we go by what Nahida said,,,, Every freakin person in Mond has faith in the Anemo archon. They sing praises of him despite not having been in the presence of their god for 5 centuries. He has a statue and a Cathedral (who else has that?).

So, Venti is Strong.

Remember his gnosis is in the shape of a queen chess piece? Queen has the most freedom on the board. Venti's ideals are freedom. And his element is anemo. Anemo is the free-est element out there.

He might as well suck the air out of your lungs if he so wants to. He governs over it.

My point is, Venti is overpowered.

And let's not forget how that little wind wisp gained archon hood.

It was his desire to protect that helped him into becoming a god. When the nameless bard died, he felt the need to protect whats left. To protect what his friend died fighting for.

And its a pretty cliche concept out their about how a hero grows stronger, in any story. Its their need to protect. Right?

And Venti still wants to protect Mond- despite him saying otherwise. He shows up everytime Mond is in danger. Whether directly or indirectly, he always helps out.

So here is what I think. The reason why he calls himself weak.

Its because he is so strong, strong enough to scare Celestia. So Celestia has put him on some sort of leash. He can't use his powers in it's entirety. There is probably some sort of seal.

So Venti is weak.

Because he can't use all of his powers. Because he is chained to Celestia's whim.

Venti is weakest of the seven because he is the only one who has some sort of leash on him.

The god of freedom, chained.

Plus, it can definitely not be a coincidence that the defiled statue was of Barbatos, out of all the seven. Chained, hanging up-side down and corrupted.

And the fact that the abyss order was going to use Barbatos (chained) statue to create a machine to "topple the divine thrones of Celestia."

None of that can be a coincidence. Knowing hoyoverse, it definitely isn't.

So yeah. Venti is definitely not weak. He just can't use the full extent of his powers as of right now.

Venti is strong, but also weak. If he isn't chained- he is easily the strongest.

He can slice the mountains and throw them far into sea- if Zhongli throws a big peice of meteor on him, venti should be able to cut it in half too. if he has all his power on him that is.

I really hate it when people call him weak just because he said so himself. Especially when it's been proven that we shouldn't take his words to face value.

He is not like our sweet little Nahida, people.