#I ended up taking off the title bc it makes the word autumn feel too repetitive

[huramuna]

selkie's song - chapter 1.

night's watch aemond x wildling shapeshifter ofc work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

this is wholly inspired by @lonelymagpies depiction of Night's Watch Aemond. please go check out their beautiful work here!

i am also partial to selkies bc irish 🤭 i'm going to take some liberties with wildling lore since we don't know too too much about them and mix some of my own heritage into it (indigenous american and irish) , which i feel would meld really well.

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word count: 2.2k

content: smut (eventually, specifics will be under the cut of chapters with it), enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, ofc is a menace to Aemond and he kind of likes it

who is she? - I MONSTER • dead! - my chemical romance

The blood of the dragon runs hot and thick, pulsing through Targaryen veins like molten lava. His mother always snuggled him as a child, citing him as her own personal furnace. 

If only that would come in handy now. Aemond thought he knew cold, way up in the skies, skimming the clouds upon Vhagar’s back, feeling the chill away from the heat of the earth. A frigid autumn breeze going through his window, causing him to bundle up in two blankets— although he usually kicked them off sometime during the night. 

But this— this was cold. Ball freezing, bone chilling, blue lipped cold. He was stuck up in the ass of the North, stationed at the wall, dressed all in black. He puffed up the collar of his cloak, trying to find some respite from the gales of glacial air. 

“Saddle up, Targaryen,” the lord commander grunted. He was a broad man, some disgraced Northman who rose his way up the ranks of the Night’s watch. Aemond could hardly remember his name, “We’re goin’ beyond the wall. Scouts said wildlings gettin’ too close.” 

“Mm.” Aemond grumbled in response, not wanting to waste his energy talking to the ogre of a man when it could be better used for warmth.

The stable boy, no older than nine name days, tugged his palfrey to him, “I’ve got ‘em all tacked  up for ya, prince.” 

“Oy, Ryam,” the lord commander snapped. Lord Ennard Fir, that was the commander’s name, “He ain’t no prince anymore, so stop callin’ him as such. He’s just one of us now, eh? A man in black.” 

Ryam nodded slowly, handing the reins to Aemond. The boy’s face was tinged red as he puffed air into his cupped hands, trying to keep warm. He was a boy from the south, just like Aemond— a butcher’s bastard boy, Ryam Waters. He had accompanied the now scorned prince on his ride up the Kingsroad. He reminded Aemond greatly of Daeron.

“Stay warm, boy,” Aemond said, giving the youngster a stiff nod of his head, “Take the fur from my bed, it’ll help.” 

Ryam puffed out his chest, “Uh huh, your grace,” he giggled, speaking the title in secret. 

It almost made a smile come to Aemond’s lips. Almost. He tried to remember the last time he smiled– it was on that fateful day near Storm’s End, over Shipbreaker’s bay. He was taunting Lucerys, finally being the stronger one, the one who had control. He laughed and smiled like a madman, chasing his nephew on his puny hatchling of a dragon. He felt like a god.

Then Vhagar snapped her jaws, ignoring Aemond’s commands. The sickening crunch of Lucerys Velaryon and his dragon still lived in his mind. It played in his dreams, making them into nightmares. He constantly woke up in a cold sweat, muttering, “It was an accident, it was an accident, I didn’t mean it.”

His eye began to ache and he clenched his jaw as he mounted his horse. Glancing around, he saw that five other men were joining him. He tugged his hood up slightly before his hand rested on his blade. He donned two weapons; a standard issue castle-steel short sword, and the Catspaw blade. He had watched his father carry it for years, he watched his mother brandish it in his name and cut Rhaenyra— and now it was his. 

Not by precedent or bestowment, he actually stole it. When he was being sent to take the black, he pilfered it from Daemon’s chambers. The old fucker already had one ancestral blade, he didn’t need two. It was the only thing he had left of home, besides the sapphire in his socket and his eyepatch. It was gorgeous crafted Valyrian steel and he always kept it on his person. 

His thumb grazed over the ruby gem on the hilt of the dagger absentmindedly as they descended on their journey, spurring their horses further across the threshold of the wall. Lord Fir was at the front, with Aemond holding up the back in their procession of ingrates and outcasts. 

If he told his younger self that he was to be lumped in with bastards, thieves, rapers and ne’er-do-wells, he would’ve laughed in his own face. It was a ridiculous notion for a Targaryen prince to be even entertaining the idea. And yet, here he was. Living it out. 

He wondered what his mother was doing currently. Had she taken Helaena and Aegon to Oldtown with the children? Did she stay in the Red Keep to be squashed under Rhaenyra’s heel? 

“Aemond Targaryen, you stand before Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, protector of the realm,” Ser Westerling had shouted, “You stand accused of treason, conspiracy to commit usurpation, and nepoticide. You murdered Lucerys Velaryon in cold blood above the skies of Shipbreaker Bay.” 

Aemond had been in chains, his face haggard and stubbled from not being able to shave. They stripped him of his eyepatch and sapphire at the hearing, sending him down to his knees with his barren eye socket to behold. 

“How do you plead to these charges?” Ser Harrold asked. 

Aemond said nothing. 

Rhaenyra sat upon the Iron Throne, tapping her finger incessantly against the metal, “Brother. I’ve granted you the courtesy of allowing a hearing to your… crimes, rather than simply sending you to the block. Mayhaps I was too lenient on my decision to let you say your piece.” 

Aemond still said nothing, looking down at the ground. He heard his mother shuffling near him, off to the side in the throne room, murmuring something hurriedly to someone. 

“I have nothing to say. Lucerys is dead— nothing I can say will bring him back or undo what’s been done.” he finally grit out, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

“So, you have no objection to being punished for your crimes? The crime of Kinslaying is the most cursed,” Rhaenyra said, leaning forward, “Mayhaps I will grant you a death by dragon— I would honor you the same way you so graciously honored Lucerys, hm? Mayhaps have Syrax and Caraxes rip you limb from limb and scatter your parts over Blackwater Bay.” 

Aemond didn’t respond.

“Y-your grace,” Alicent spoke up, walking to Aemond and standing in front of him, “Please, have mercy upon him. Your son wouldn’t have wanted this—“

“DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME WHAT MY SON WOULD’VE WANTED,” Rhaenyra bellowed, standing up from her seat, “Your son took away his ability to want anything, and for that there should be repercussions! A son for a son.” 

“Rhaenyra, please,” Alicent murmured, “Please, I can’t lose him— it… it was an accident. Aemond, tell her it was an accident!”

He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to admit their family’s greatest fear was true; they did not have complete control over their dragons. 

Rhaenyra gazed at Aemond’s pained expression, then at Alicent, “He will be punished. But I would not become a Kinslayer— I do not wish to be as accursed as you, brother,” she strode back to the throne, twisting the rings on her fingers, “He will take the black and be sent to the wall. He will have no titles, no land, no wife or children. He will have nothing for the rest of his life except for the Night’s Watch.” 

Alicent was stunned, as was Aemond. He wondered if he would’ve preferred death. 

“In addition,” Rhaenyra continued, “His claim to his dragon, Vhagar, will be severed. He will undergo the Valyrian ceremony for it.” 

“You can’t,” Aemond growled, “You can’t!” he panicked— Vhagar had been the only thing he ever achieved in his life, truly. He lost his eye for her. 

“Take him back to his cell and prepare him for the ride up the Kingsroad.” she said with finality, looking down at her hand as she sat back on the throne. 

Aemond saw— she had been pricked by the throne, blood beading at the tip of her finger. 

Mayhaps there are still small mercies in this world. 

A particularly strong gust of cold air snapped him back to reality, his hand still itching over his dagger. They reached the thick treeline that stretched out for miles, their horses trudging through the snow. 

They were at least ten miles out from the wall now, the Seven Kingdoms left truly well behind them. A small river trickled near them and Aemond saw the shadows of fish— large ones at that. 

He had been in the Night’s Watch for at least seven moons now, and this was his first expedition outside of the wall. It felt like a whole different world— a world without laws, without political duty, without fights of succession over a throne made of swords— there was something freeing about being here. It was only a remnant of what he felt soaring the skies on Vhagar, but it would have to do. 

The wind whistled through the branches of the trees, fresh snow beginning to fall. He heard a fly buzzing near his ear. No, that couldn’t be right. Surely there weren’t flies in the cold? 

It wasn’t right— another fly whizzed past him, sticking into the man in front of him. Those were the arrows. 

“Ambush! Wildlings!” Lord Fir shouted, reeling in his horse. 

Aemond went to unsheathe his sword when his horse went haywire, rearing up on its hind legs. “Lykiri, lykiri!” Be calm, be calm. He shouted at the horse, tugging at the reins as the wildlings descended upon them. He felt like he was above Storm’s End once more, screaming for Vhagar to heed his commands—

His horse bucked him off, sending him tumbling into a deep snow drift. He dropped his sword somewhere aside— his hand immediately went to his waist, gripping around the Catspaw dagger. 

A breath of relief washed over him as he rolled and hid behind a tree, unsheathing the dagger. He twirled it around, waiting for someone, anyone to cross his path. 

He then felt the cool pressure of a blade against his throat. 

“Don’t move, crow,” a voice said. It was almost diminutive, soft in tone— but it was threatening all the same, “I don’t need to paint the snow red with your blood just yet. Drop the dagger.” 

Begrudgingly, he dropped the Valyrian steel into the snow. 

“Now turn around, slowly. Keep your hands out.” 

He turned around, expecting to see an ugly wildling in his gaze. He had only heard the tales of them, that they were more ugly than not. 

His breath caught in his throat as he looked upon her— she was small, much smaller than he, her skin somewhat pale and cool toned, freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. It was her eyes that caught him— one was a deep, rich brown, and the other was a light blue, with fragments and shards of brown in it, like a mountain against a clear sky. Her hair, dark chocolate brown with one streak of white in it, was tied into a haphazard braid. She wore earrings made of the lower jaw of some small mammal, inlaid with opals. She was holding a dragonglass dagger to his throat, the hilt of it carved from a deer’s antler, encrusted with a matching moonstone. 

She wore a long, white coat— it looked to be the skin of some animal, but Aemond couldn’t tell which. It was spotted and fluffed. 

His brow narrowed as he noticed that she was soaking wet, dripping water from her nose and hair, the sheen of moisture shining from her skin.

He could only imagine how astonished he looked staring at her— but she stared back at him in the same manner, her eyes wide. She had huge eyes, Gods be good. 

“Fucking hell, you’ve got a purple eye.” she murmured. 

“You should see my other eye.”

A harsh crack across his face— she had slapped him, “Don’t be a pig.” 

Aemond blinked profusely, “By the Seven— I meant my actual other eye,” he grunted, “May I?” he gestured to his eyepatch. 

“… better be worth it, crow.” she murmured, nodding slowly. 

He lifted his eyepatch off, revealing the sapphire underneath. 

Her lips were slightly agape as she ogled at him, “You’re a fancy crow, aren’t you?”

“Hm.” he grumbled. 

She retrieved the Catspaw dagger from the ground, stowing it at her hip, “I’ll be keepin’ this for right now.” 

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” he asked, perplexed as to why he wasn’t dead yet. 

“Not yet— you got interesting eyes, I wanna show my papa,” she retrieved a leather cord from her belt and wrapped it keenly around his wrists, “Caught myself a crow.” she hummed, seemingly entertained with herself. 

Aemond rolled his eye, letting her hoist him up into a standing position. He towered over her, to which she didn’t seem too bothered about. 

She led him past the battle, which was now over. He saw three of his Night’s Watch brothers slain, and it looks like two others had run off like cravens, including Lord Commander Fir. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

“My tribe,” she replied, stringing him along. 

“Your… tribe,” he repeated, “And what is your name?”

“Euna. And you, crow?” 

“Aemond.”

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #selkie's song

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #23: with autumn closing in: Mirio Togata

You’re leaving for college in the morning. Tonight, you want to give Mirio something to remember you by.

i. ii. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), Quirkless AU, first-time sex, car sex, pre-college angst, lots and lots and lOTS of fumbling and fluff

Notes: Both characters in this story are eighteen years of age. I don’t write underage characters in nsfw situations!!! That being said, this is not proofread. It’s so soft and so messy and all over the place but then again, so is losing your virginity. Today’s (yesterday’s) prompt was “First Time.” 

EDIT: nobody asked but the title is inspired by Bob Seger bc I’m a walking m e m e 

Kinktober Masterlist

Mirio’s beat-up little Subaru kicks up a cloud of dust as you race around the winding turns of a bendy country road.

You’ve been in this passenger seat a thousand times. Tonight, it feels different.

It’s just before eight, but the late summer sun is already sinking rapidly toward the trees. The days are growing shorter already- it feels like you’ve been chasing the evening sunlight since the Civic Holiday. The first time you noticed the sun setting before nine P.M., you burst into tears.

You’re not ready for the changes that Labour Day will bring.

You’ve had Mirio beside you for as long as you can remember. Since before you ever knew who you were, you had him. Even when the line between friend and more was blurred, you’d transitioned so smoothly into romance. It was like you’d always known that you were it for each other.

Perfection is never permanent.

You’re both quiet, navigating the road that you’d normally cruise with all the happiness in the world. You’ve felt light as a feather, driving up to the point with Mirio before. Even though the windows are down tonight, with all the sweet summer grass wafting heady smells into the car, you’re not blaring the radio or laughing at your latest inside joke.

You’re scared.

This entire year feels like it’s been full of lasts. They started out big-you celebrated your eighteenth birthday together back in the winter. This summer was the last time you both worked at the ice cream parlour down by the water. And slowly the lasts whittled their way down to tonight. One last shred of summer and you and the life you’d once known.

Your very last date.

Mirio has been hasty to remind you that it’s not your last date forever, just for a little while. Just until Thanksgiving, he promises, or maybe even earlier, if he can come out to see you before the semester gets too busy. But neither of you know what to expect from college. And perhaps that’s what makes tonight all the scarier.

Among other things.

The point is completely deserted tonight, the late summer chill a likely culprit. It’s not much more than a little clearing in some trees off the bend of this dark road, but it kind of looks over the illuminated part of town and it’s generally where people with cars go to make out.

It’s the only privacy you could think of.

Mirio pulls carefully off the road, rolling along the gravel path until your neat little town opens up beneath you. He shifts the car into park and shuts off the rattling engine. He unfastens his seatbelt and, finally, he looks at you.

It’s too dark to appreciate the shade of his eyes. But they shine dark in the dim of a waxing moon, steady and strong despite the nerves that tremble beneath them.

“You sure about this?” One big, warm hand covers yours and if you weren’t sure before, it’s enough to comfort you.

“Yes,” you promise, leaning in close. You brush the tip of your nose against his, letting your eyes flutter shut. “I’m so sure.”

You’re unbuckling your own seatbelt when he leans across the center console and cups your chin in one rough palm.

“God,” he whispers, licking his lips. “I love you.”

He kisses you before you can let the words bring you to tears.

Tonight you’ve promised to take one last first together. It’s something both of you have wanted for a long time- but neither of you quite felt ready for. Not until now, with the deep fog of autumn and your inevitable separation closing in.

You plant a palm on his thigh, stroking the rough denim with your thumb as you lean closer to him. Your kissing deepens naturally. He knows exactly how to kiss you to get your head spinning. And when he breaks from your mouth with a little pant of warm breath, your head’s in the clouds.

“Wanna…” He trails off, flushing in the dark. “Wanna get in the back?”

His little car is almost comically small for a guy of Mirio’s size, but the dented hatchback is all the space he’s ever needed. Tonight, the back seats are folded down, and there’s a stack of pillows and blankets awaiting you.

You kiss his forehead and nod, pulse spiking.

“Okay.”

You climb back first, navigating carefully over the center console and bracing a hand on Mirio’s shoulder. The roof is lower than you expected, but there’s enough room for you to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him climb clumsily back to meet you.

His foot slips just as he’s transferring his weight forward and he has to catch himself on the passenger’s seat, erupting nervous laughter from both of you.

“Man,” he sighs, crawling over the microfiber seat back and settling down next to you. “I knew I was gonna be a big ole klutz tonight.”

“You’re always a big ole klutz,” you hum. You bring one hand to the back of his neck, threading your fingers into his blonde hair. This time, when you kiss him, it’s slow and lingering. And when you draw back, you keep your forehead pushed against his.

“’S why I love you so much.”

“Here,” he croons, stroking your cheek again with a tender thumb. “Lemme look at you again.” He does, pausing for a moment as his eyes cast over your face. “I wanna remember every piece of this when you’re gone.”

At some point, you’re ready to stop stalling. He kisses you with fresh intent, crawling gently over you in the tight space that surrounds you. He’s careful to keep his weight off of you, letting one hand trail idly to the front of your sweatshirt, toying with its hem.

“Here,” you sigh, sitting up a little. “Let me just…”

Mirio pulls back, ducking and still nearly hitting his head on the gently-padded ceiling of the car. You wiggle out of your sweatshirt as best you can, wedged between him and the pillows beneath you. Your t-shirt sticks to your hoodie as you worm out of it, but you get impatient and pull the whole mess over your head.

Beats having to sit up all over again in a few seconds.

Mirio’s seen you like this before. In bikinis at the beach, in your sports bras when you work out together, for brief flashes if you change your shirt in front of him before heading out the door.

But tonight, all your exposed skin is for him. Tonight it’s with intent. Tonight, he gets to touch you.

He mumbles your name, timid as a mouse as he buries his face in the swell of your bare shoulder. He peppers loving kisses along the flesh, and you can feel, when the weight of his hips bears down on you, that he’s already getting excited.

It sends a thrill racing down your spine. Not the first time you’ve felt a twinge at the apex of his thighs. But it is the first time you’ll be chasing that high to its completion.

“Can… can I…” He trails off, and his fingertips brush against the band at the bottom of your bra.

“Can I touch you here?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, but you’re still not ready for the way it feels when his fingers slip beneath the cup and brush over your tender skin. He distracts you, kissing attentively at your collarbone, while he arches your back and unsnaps your bra. Lowering your bare back to the blanket is a foreign feeling but you welcome it, lifting your arms and letting him pull the whole affair away from your body.

“God,” he gasps, sitting up a little. “Look at you. You’re so gorgeous, princess.” He slides both palms up your ribcage, following a trail of goosebumps to the swell of your breasts. He thumbs both of your nipples, palming the flesh eagerly and getting a feel for the way that you fill his hands.

“Are you sure about this?” Conflict crosses his expression and your eyes pop up to his in shock.

“What?”

“With me,” he expands. “You’re so perfect, I-I just… wanted to make sure.”

“Baby,” you gasp. You sit up and wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him harshly down against your body so you can hug him close. He lets out little more than a yelp of surprise before he relents, chest deflating against yours.

“I’ve loved you…” you start to say, tearing up rapidly, “since before I even knew what love was, Mirio. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted this with.”

“Aw, sweetheart…” He mutters into your skin, kissing you one more time as he sits up to find your eyes. “Don’t cry, princess, please don’t start crying.” He swipes away the trail of a tear that leaks from the corner of your eye.

“I’m not, I’m not,” you promise, clinging tightly to him. “I just don’t want this to end.”

The two of you undress the rest of the way as swiftly as you can. He peels you tenderly out of your leggings, and your exposed flesh feels vulnerable, even under his adoring gaze. But when he shucks off his undershorts, the dark flush that’s working its way down his chest proves that you’re not the only one who’s feeling a little shy.

He’s fully hard and ready for you, cock standing straight out from between his kneeling thighs. You’re definitely feeling a twinge, but it’s with a twist of self-consciousness in your gut. You’re going to need a little more preparation.

“Here,” he whispers, breaking the silence. He gets slowly onto his belly between your thighs, and you try not to lick your lips as you watch the way his cock presses up between the blanket and his firm body.

Mirio settles one hand on your thigh and the other on the mound of your pussy. He’s not touching you anywhere sensitive yet, but he lifts his head one more time to make sure you’re still with him.

“Can…” he starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“Please.”

With slow circles of his thumb, he begins to explore you. He strokes every inch of your folds, up and down the length of your slit. He finds the little nub at its apex and bites his lip, giving it an experimental little rub.

“Is this it?” He prompts.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. Already you’re starting to clench your fists in the blanket underneath you. “Ah, a little higher. That’s it.”

You gasp as he follows your instructions, swiping his thumb a little higher and making you bristle. He dips a finger down towards your slit, swallowing hard when the skin comes away shiny.

“You’re wet, princess,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

“Almost,” you promise. You know the anticipation must be killing him. But you’ve always been able to ask for what you need with him. He promised you a million times that this wouldn’t be any different. And he’s holding that promise close, it’s obvious.

“I need…” You take a deep breath and center yourself. “Inside. A little, first. Just so it doesn’t… hurt so much.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay. Like this?”

He flips his hand over and probes the tip of his middle finger against your folds, then wiggles it carefully and slides it inside you. Your back arches a little at the feeling- you curl your toes, and you both gasp.

“Whoa,” he murmurs into your skin. “You’re so tight, Princess. I can’t wait to feel all of you. God, you’re even wetter in here.”

He starts to slide his finger slowly in and out of you, pumping with a smooth and steady rhythm. You’re letting yourself get used to the sensation, but it’s not long before your accustomed and squirming against his knuckles.

“Another one,” you prompt.

“Are you sure?” He’s mesmerized by your body’s reaction, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

You nod. He listens, pulling away. When he slides his finger back into you it’s accompanied by his ring finger, and that’s a stretch you’re not quite so used to. You let a little whimper loose and spread your legs further, trying your best to consciously relax your muscles.

“That’s it,” he soothes, smoothing his free hand over your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby. Tell me when to stop.”

He eases his fingers in and out of you a few times. You gently roll your hips forward, encouraging him into that same rhythm as before. Finally, after a few dozen heartbeats that pass like eons, you put a hand on his wrist. You’re not sure if there’s a threshold you’re supposed to wait for or not, but his fingers feel comfortable and you’re getting wetter by the second.

You don’t want to wait any longer.

“Okay,” you brush. “I’m ready.”

“Alright.” He draws back, getting up onto his knees again. “Oh- hang on, I’ve got…”

He trails off, reaching past you for his jacket. He grabs it and dives into the buttoned inside pocket, pulling out a wrapped condom. You’d bought them together a few nights ago in preparation for this. Taking advantage of the big drugstore in the next town over, with workers that are strangers to you. And a self-checkout kiosk.

“Here.” You pluck the condom from his fingers, shooting him a quiet little smile. “Let me.”

You unwrap it carefully, handling the slick, flimsy ring as little as possible. He scoots forward, and his cock bobs obscenely in your face. It sends a throb of ready want through the pit of your stomach. You’ve always kind of assumed that he isn’t small, but here’s your proof.

You pinch the reservoir tip in the center of the condom and push it against the tip of his penis. He twitches a little but holds himself still, and you do your best to roll the rest of the condom all the way down to the base. When you get there, you give the shaft a gentle squeeze, smooth and hard and warm and Mirio.

He sits back on his heels once the condom’s secure. Lets out a deep, decompressing sigh. You do the same. He looks at you with the moon in his eyes, and you fall more profoundly in love with him than ever before.

“Ready?” He’s quiet.

“Yeah.”

Carefully, Mirio lines himself up. He leans forward over you, trapping one of your hands beneath his and twining your fingers together. You think about hitching your legs over his hips, but keep them spread for now, instead. Just the mere position you’ve taken feels incredibly vulnerable.

Then he slips a hand between the two of you and brings the tip of his cock to your body.

Oh.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispers to you. “I love you.” You inhale, and as the air leaves your chest he edges slowly inside.

“Oh,” he groans. “Oh wow.”

The stretch is not as bad as you anticipated. He’s big, but he prepared you diligently and carefully, and he’s taking things slowly. He eases his hips forward a little more with every breath until he’s bottomed out, as far inside as he can get.

He peppers kisses all over your face, brushing your nose with an eyelash on the way back up.

“How do you feel?” He mumbles. “’m I hurting you, princess?”

“No,” you sigh. “No, you can move.”

He draws himself slowly out of your body, then anchors himself and sinks eagerly back in. He keeps the gentle back-and-forth motion up for a couple of beats, and when he begins to speed up it’s slowly, checking in with you again and again to make sure you’re still enjoying yourself.

Finally, his rhythm breaks. He finds a steady pace, letting the muted clap clap clap of your bodies syncopate with the heady huh huh huh that escapes his chest with every thrust. You let your head fall back against the pillows, holding him tight and doing your best to lose yourself in the pleasure.

“Oh, man, oh god, p-princess, I’m not gonna last very long,” he warns carefully. Already his expression is starting to draw with ecstasy. And you’re ready to let him go.

“It’s okay,” you promise quietly, staring in wonder up at him. “Just let it happen, Mirio. Come for me, baby, I wanna see it.”

“Okay,” he babbles, “okay, okay, aw… s-shit, I-I can’t… shit!”

He slips a hand under your thigh and tugs it upward as his thrusts lose rhythm and his body breaks into shivers. You can’t feel the warm burst inside you, but you know it’s there as he twitches atop you, stalling and trembling hard over your skin as he loses himself.

When it’s over, he sits back on his heels, looking down at his softening cock and the filled condom. He looks…

Disappointed.

“Mirio?” You sit up. Your heartbeat spikes. You’re trying not to panic. “Mirio? What’s wrong? You didn’t like it?”

“What? No.” He cups your face between his still-shaking hands. “No, no, no, I just… I didn’t make you…”

“Oh.” Your cheeks warm. You’re not going to pretend like you didn’t see it coming. “Well… it’s okay, Mirio, it’s not that easy for me to come just from that. I didn’t think you were going to…”

“No,” he insists, sounding more determined than you’ve heard him in a long time. “No. I’m gonna make you. I gotta try. Please let me try. Please.”

You swallow hard. You give a terse little nod, and he lays you back against the pillows. When he reaches for you, you stop him.

“Just… get rid of the condom first.”

He goes maroon.

“Right.”

As soon as the condom’s been disposed of, he comes back to you. He gets down on his belly again, just like before. With his diligent fingers and careful perception, you coach him through giving you his first orgasm. It’s not earth-shattering. It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had. But it’s a peak, and he’s so proud when he kisses you back to the surface again and pulls the blankets up around your bare bodies.

When you’re finished, the car’s windows are garishly fogged. It’s warm and stuffy and cramped, but you couldn’t care less.

You know how this goes. You’ve had enough aunts and uncles teasing you about the turkey dump already. Not you, though. Not Mirio. Tonight’s first only solidifies that to you.

You’re more than distance can take away from you.  

#mirio togata x reader #my hero academia #mirio x reader #lemillion #mha lemillion #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #mirio togata #mirio #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction

[kashimos-hajime]

cookies and rings and things | b.b.

summary: “What do you want for Christmas?” “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

WARNINGS: swearing, but it’s all soft, cute and just love!!! lots of love :) pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 8.3k 

a/n: written for @sunmoonandbucky for no particular reason other than i saw that she needed fluff and i was more than happy to provide. make sure y’all show her some love bc she just ACED AN AUDITION and literally,, i love her,,, so much,,, NOW HAS A SEQUEL TITLED: POSITIVELY PERFECT

“How much do you love me?” she asks, winter gleaming on her bare skin and firelight playing in her eyes. It’s Boxing Day of 2024, the first truly normal one after the Blip, and Bucky watches as snow falls like feathersoft stars outside his window at the compound.

“Count the snowflakes, multiply by a million.”

“Big number,” she muses and he can feel her nails scratch at his waist lightly as her socked feet nudge against his. He wonders what kinda insane person wears socks without any clothes on, but then decides that it’s the kind of person who’s fallen in love with him.

“Well, I love you more than that,” he replies. She wrinkles her nose and snuggles in tighter against him. The fur lining of those ridiculous reading socks tickle the inside of his calf as she curls against him and he doesn’t think he should be able to love a girl this much. Then, he can feel the cold metal of the ring she slid onto her own finger less than twenty-four hours ago and realizes that he had thought a lot of things shouldn’t be possible, and yet they still are.

“Dork,” she murmurs against his neck.

“Lover,” he replies against her ear.

.

Bucky doesn’t mean to notice her. He’s running laps around the newly rebuilt compound, she has a whistle in her mouth as she shouts drills around the metal thing. Sharp cracks of ‘Pick up the pace!’ and ‘Move it, kids!’ nip at his ears when he runs by and Sam says something about how he’s getting distracted. He hadn’t realized at all.

“Who’s she?” he asks, wiping the sweat from his brow. He’s just finished five laps and he stands on the inner edge of the track, watching as recruits run past. A towel is slung over his shoulder and Sam skids to a stop in front of him, stepping in beside the soldier. The rookies’ shirts are soaked and they pant as they whip past, but none dare to slow down when she stands waiting just a few metres away.

“New trainer.” Sam’s got a glint in his eye Bucky thinks he knows when he says her name. He’s just getting to know the guy but he’s a pretty easy book to read anyway. “Heard she’s a hard ass on the newbies but it’s ‘cause she has a rep.”

“Then they’re getting what they signed up for,” he says shortly. Despite the cool autumn breeze brushing against the thick heat of his neck, his heart burns into his chest as he heaves another breath. 

“Alright, walk it off. We meet by the pool in fifteen.” She catches their attention again, and Bucky notices she’s wearing a half-zipped up windbreaker and joggers, and nothing underneath. Not that he intends to notice. Her hair is tied up back, and he kinda can’t help but look at her neck and her collarbones and, oh, no, he’s looking at her black sports bra—

“Dude.” He blinks at Sam’s amused snap. “You’re staring.”

“Shut up.” Bucky’s voice roughens up as his cheeks begin to flash red and he hides his face in his towel when Sam nudges him with a sweaty elbow. 

“She’s cute. I can get you her number,” Sam says but Bucky lets out such a strangled sound that both Sam and the cute trainer look at him. 

If it were possible, Bucky’s skin would melt off.

“Hey,” Sam calls her over by a name Bucky can barely hear because he’s too busy staring at his feet and wishing the ground would swallow him up. “You’re the new trainer, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is so much softer than before. Guess it’s like that when you’re not yelling at recruits and talking to Avengers. Bucky raises his head, absently running a hand through the few strands of hair that’ve fallen from his ponytail. “You’re Sam, right? I feel like we’ve met before.” She cocks her eyebrow and tilts her head. “Did you use to live in Washington?”

“Yeah, I did.” Sam’s smile pinches his cheeks and Bucky’s lips press together in a displeased frown when a grin flickers across her face. “Did you work in the VA? ‘Cause you’re starting to look familiar.”

“Yeah.” When she smiles, it morphs her face into something startling warm and lovely. Bucky dips his head low, trying to act like he’s not really part of the conversation—a mere bystander—because if he looks at her for too long, he knows it’s just too intense to be anything but creepy. “I think we used to bump into each other at the gym. I was a physical therapist at the office, and—”

“You made cookies any chance you got, I remember now!” Sam exclaims and she laughs loudly. “You always made my vets’ day when your cookies came in, so thank you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. It’s funny how life works.” She shrugs and Bucky can feel her gaze land on him. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met.” Her name slips off her tongue like poetry and Bucky, midway through a swipe of sweat down his neck, looks at her with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t mean to glare, but he’s caught so off-guard by the sudden change in direction of their conversation that he isn’t even a part of that his face reverts to something less than friendly.

“Bucky,” he says stiffly, although he doesn’t know why she doesn’t know the names of every Avenger. She probably does and is just being polite, a stern voice in Bucky’s head reprimands and he can feel Sam almost sigh in disappointment. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. You haven’t tried my cookies yet, so I haven’t proven my worth but I promise they’ll change your life,” she says, completely unphased. Bucky guesses she’s more than used to grumpy guys. “Fall equinox is tomorrow, so wait just a tiny bit longer?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Bucky doesn’t understand the question at the end of her sentence but she seems satisfied with his answer as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her windbreaker. “You probably have to get back to work,” he adds lamely and she turns to look at the compound. The autumn breeze curls hair against her cheek and Bucky bites his lip to resist the urge.

“I’m free later tonight,” she says, eyes squinting a bit when she turns back to Bucky and Sam clears his throat when Bucky himself doesn’t say a word. It’s like he’s drowning in her eyes. There’s something so effortlessly patient and warm in her gaze that Bucky can’t help but just… rest. It’s almost as if he can rest in her presence.

“So is Barnes.”

“What?” He snaps back to reality harshly, as usual. “We’re supposed to—“

“Actually, I can handle it on my own. She, however—” At this, Sam gestures wildly to the trainer who stands there, the beginnings of an amused grin growing on her face—“needs help with cookies.”

“I can’t,” he croaks after a minute of stuttering, and he simply clamps his mouth shut, averting his eyes. She’s too pretty for him. 

“I mean, company is always welcome,” she says, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll just get in your way and I don’t wanna mess up your cookies.”

“You can’t mess them up. I always think of something and it always works out.” She reaches over to take hold of his flesh arm and despite the coolness of the day when they’re not running their lungs out, her hand burns against his skin. She gently squeezes his elbow. “Don’t worry so much, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen after dinner in the mess.” 

She lets go too soon and slips her hand back into her pocket as Bucky opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’ve got to go to the pool,” she says, jerking her head towards the compound. Her eyes flicker to Sam whose grin nearly splits his face. “Bye, Sam. It was nice seeing you again, although I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other now.”

“Big building,” he says with a shrug. “Who knows?” She chuckles lightly, and then her gaze slides to Bucky.

Her eyes just seem to find his so calmly. It’s magnetic, and if he believed in love at first sight, this would be it.

“See you later, Sergeant.” She magpie salutes and he can’t help but mimic like a monkey, a lazy swipe of his finger from his brow. It’s so relaxed, so slow and he’s slouched on one hip, his metal hand on his towel, that he thinks he’s never felt so light. It’s almost routine—he could get used to this.

Man, it’s so easy with her. 

Her smile brightens remarkably and she heads back to the compound with a little spring in her step.

Sam waits until she’s inside before grabbing Bucky by the neck and giving him a noogie.

.

“You gotta dress up nice, man,” Sam advises like he’s on the same level as Tan from Queer Eye. Bucky stares at his reflection in the floor-length mirror and frowns in response. 

“We’re baking, not going to a gala.” Maybe I should take her to one. Get invited to enough of them as it is, a part of him muses, but he quickly chases that thought of his head. “Besides, she just saw us earlier today sweating like dogs so I don’t really think she’ll care if I show up in a t-shirt and shorts.”

“But this is your first date, man. You gotta dress to impress.” Sam shuffles through Bucky’s closet whilst its owner gapes at him.

“It’s not a date.”

“Yeah, and I’m not Captain America.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Bucky catches the pair of dark washed jeans and a cozy little sweater Wanda said would be cute on him. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he sighs. The warm white and the dark blue are so not his style. His style is black in different shades and fabrics and he is going to kill Sam. “This? I’ll look like—”

“Husband material. You’ll look like a straight up husband. She will cuff you on the spot,” Sam declares much to Bucky’s annoyance. “Are you gonna wear the photostatic veil Banner programmed for you?” He glances over to see Sam holding the mesh of tech, and he frowns thoughtfully.

“Should I?” He hasn’t had the opportunity to try it on, and although he knows everyone is used to his metal arm… He sighs. This is way more complicated than the forties. “Yeah. Good impression, right?” he says lamely and Sam claps him on the back, helping him seal it to his metal arm. As the nano-sized cells connect to the metal plates, a fleshy color blooms from the shoulder down and he feels like silk brushes against the tiny fibers of his arm. He can feel every single little cell, buzzing in a way that’s barely even noticeable. Bucky hopes that when he doesn’t focus on it, it’ll fade into the back of his mind.

“Atta boy. Come on. We’ve got dinner and then it’s time for your date! Wanda made paprikash.”

“Great,” Bucky intones dully, nerves biting at his stomach. He has no appetite for this. “I love paprikash.”

“We don’t sulk on first dates, Barnes.”

“It’s not a fucking date!”

.

After a dinner full of questions from Dr. Banner on how the photostatic veil was feeling and from everyone else on why, Bucky volunteers to do the dishes and clean up to make sure everything is spotless for when she comes in. Despite confusion among the rest of his colleagues, Sam assures them that ‘this is the plan, guys. Barnes’s got a hot date coming over.’ 

This, of course, only results in Bucky threatening to throw a skillet at him.

He wipes down the countertops, cleans the sink, and reorganizes the fridge while he waits for her, and he absently wonders what kind of cookies she intends to make. Chocolate chip, jam, sugar, shortbread…

Ingredients! His eyes widen and he turns to look at the dark pantries in slight horror. I should probably get them out for her. And measuring spoons, that’s what she needs, right? His stomach is in knots as he runs around the kitchen island, trying to find all the tools they might need. He tries to think of when Wanda had last made something sweet—what had she used? He ducks to pull out the biggest drawer, relieved to find three metal bowls of different sizes.

“Small, medium, large,” he murmurs under his breath, and he puts them all out beside the other instruments he thinks might be needed. A whisk, a bunch of different spoons, a glass cup and metal scoops… He glances around and tries to figure out what he’s missed before deciding to just open up every possible drawer and cupboard, and see what pricks his imagination.

He only gets to the second set of drawers when a soft chuckle catches his attention. 

Whipping around, he feels his heart drop into his stomach when he spots her leaning against the doorframe. Her hair is pulled away from her face, and she has a book and aprons hugged tight to her chest. 

“I didn't want to disturb you,” she says, an impish curl to her mouth. Bucky steps back from the kitchen island as she walks around and her gaze sweeps his collection. “It was cute.”

“Not many people can sneak up on me,” he says, a bit defensive as a flush makes its way up his neck. He doesn’t mean to sound like it, but maybe it’s the embarrassment of being caught that makes him oddly proud of his work.

“Not many people help me bake cookies,” she replies, standing next to him. She sets down the book and aprons down and he can catch the faint whiff of dinner at the mess hall clinging to her t-shirt. His heart hammers hard enough he’s sure even the deaf would be able to hear it as she gently plucks at different tools, thinking about what they will and won’t need. 

Not the thing that looks like a weird wire version of brass knuckles, got it.

“Uh, pastry cutter,” she names, returning it to its place without a mistake. “We won’t really need it since we’re not cutting up big portions of fat.”

“Good to know.” He nods and writes that down in his head. “Anything else we don’t need?”

“We can use it all if you want,” she says with a laugh living in her voice. “It doesn’t really make any difference to me.”

“Okay, well, let’s just get started, then.” 

“Aprons first.” She unfolds the two things, one white and navy, and the other black. The black one says Kiss the Cook and Bucky feels a flash of heat at the print. “Which one?”

The white and navy striped apron has a blue pocket with tiny white polka dots, the same pattern frilling the bottom and on the shoulder straps. The black, it’s clearly larger and for a man, and Bucky wonders if these were truly the only aprons she had or if she only bakes with guys she’s interested in. A flicker of jealousy runs through him. How many guys cooked with her before him?

Stop it. Not a date. Bucky shakes his head and shrugs.

“Whatever looks best on you,” he says. “Not that either of them would look bad or anything, but—”

“Thanks, Sarge.” Her eyes crinkle when she smiles big enough and she slips the black apron over her neck before sticking out the white and navy one to him. He stares at the piece of fabric for a moment before slipping his arms through and twisting his arms to tie a tight knot. She does the same and it’s pulled tight against her, Kiss the Chef smack in the middle of her chest.

“So where do we start?” He swallows because he thinks he’s just signed up for more than he bargained for. He looks at all these raw ingredients, ingredients he’s pulled because he thought it might be useful and doesn’t even know where to begin.

“First, we have to decide how many cookies and which type,” she says, pulling over the book and making space for it. She opens it up and his eyes widen at all the tabs poking out, different colours surely meaning different things. It’s an organized mess.

With a piece of scrap paper and a pencil, she writes down the number of required cookies. “Around there,” she says with a swift circle around a number bigger than Bucky had thought. “And these are the cookies we can make that everyone can eat,” she continues, writing a list down one side and then sectioning it off with a line, “these include nuts,” another section, “and these will have icing on them.”

“That’s a lot of planning for the fall equinox, ma’am,” he begins, trying not to sound daunted. She laughs, her eyes darting to his face. Her stare burns into his cheek as she shrugs.

“Hope I’m not scaring you away.”

No. Never. “Maybe a little.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do the math and teach you a few tricks, and you’ll be a natural. Promise.” He’s surprised by how easily he believes her. As she talks about all the different types of cookies, the textures and ingredients one can use, Bucky finds himself slipping. He lets her scoot closer as she shows him how to sift the dry ingredients.

“Just tap it against your hand like this,” she says and Bucky copies her. She shows him how to prep the pan, and he preheats the oven. They mix the dough with their hands, and Bucky watches as her skilled hands manipulate the oily dough she’s created like it’s second nature. He glances down at his own pile in a glass bowl that doesn’t look too shabby, and almost smiles. “Yours looks really good, Bucky.”

“Thanks.” His eyes stick to the chocolate chips and he pokes it with a half-proud smile. “I had a great teacher.” She laughs again. She’s easy to laugh and smile, and every time she does either of those things, something in him feels like it’s going to burst with light. He wishes he was like that, but at the same time, he feels brighter than he has in days. Maybe it’s something about how she treats him like any other guy, or maybe it’s that she makes him smile more than anyone has in a while.

“Well, this is only batch one and two out of like, twenty billion,” she says as they begin to shape their cookies. Bucky had ripped the parchment paper for their trays and laid them flat and while they roll these balls of chocolate chip cookie dough, he can’t help but listen to her go on and on about things she wants to talk about. Life since the Blip, the recruits, hobbies and childhood memories. He can’t help but give his two cents too, and she tilts her head as she listens, a soft smile on her face.

“You’re a great listener,” she comments as he sets the trays in the oven and closes the door. She sets the timer on her phone and begins to prepare for the next batch.

“It was all I could do for a while,” he says with a shrug. “You get good at stuff you do for a long time.” Her actions slow and she turns to stare at him. He focuses on cleaning up his work space, swallowing down the smell of butter and sugar. “Guess something came out of it,” he adds uncomfortably when the silence grows. He looks beside him, at her, where there is a smear of flour across her cheek, where she merely stands there in silence, and sighs. He’s ruined it. “Sorry.”

“Is that why you hid your hand?” she asks softly and his eyes widen noticeably. “I didn’t want to ask to make you uncomfortable, but I did wonder.” She looks down to make sure she’s measuring enough sugar and she closes her eyes for a moment, clearly cursing herself. Bucky wishes he could say something, but his mouth doesn’t click with his brain. “Forget I even brought it up. I’m sorry, I—”

“I wore it for tonight,” he blurts out and she looks at him, eyebrows furrowed together. “It’s a photostatic veil Banner coded for me and… and I wore it for you.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m afraid of it.”

You should be. “I guess I just wanted to be normal for a night,” he sighs and she stops sifting for a moment to really look at him. Setting down the sieve, she leans on the counter and places the other hand on her hip, waiting for him to explain patiently. “Sam called it a date, and I think it got to my head.”

“Oh,” she breathes. He tears off the photostatic veil carefully, letting the mesh crumple in his hands and she swallows. The air is thick with an emotion neither of them can quite name and Bucky is quite sure she will never want to see him again. God, is this what it’s like to flunk a date? He sets down the mesh on a clean countertop, watching the hologram flicker as he flexes his metal fingers. They gleam in the artificial light and he hides it behind his back, shame pooling in his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make it awkward for you,” he mutters and she reaches to touch his metal wrist tentatively. Kiss the Chef wrinkles against her chest and his gaze falls to the floor. He doesn’t quite know how to describe how utterly disappointed in himself he is when she steps closer, fingers curling over his. No pity in her eyes, she squeezes his palm carefully.

“I don’t want you hiding yourself away,” she murmurs, tilting her head so he is forced to look at her. His eyes stare dejectedly into hers and she smiles, using her other hand to cup his face. Powder dusts against his eyes and he squints. The smell of dough clings to her skin and she smiles fondly at him, fingers stroking his cheek. “I like you just as you are.”

“You like me?” he asks, confused, and she chuckles. “All I’ve done is help you make cookies.”

“‘Course I like you, dork. You’re hot.” A teasing bite in her tone, she taps his nose with her thumb before returning her palm to his cheek. “And I know you didn’t have control of anything in your past, and you’re trying your best, Bucky. That’s all any of us can do, now that we’re back.” Her eyes avert for a moment, and then find his again. There is a gooey softness that reminds him of molten chocolate and snow on Christmas eve. “I really do like you, you know. Have a big ol’ school girl crush on you, to be honest.”

“On me?” Why not anyone else? He’s bewildered. Sam, or that new receptionist on two, or even some other trainer because… 

Frankly, Bucky thinks he’s lost all appeal to those who know him since 1945.

She takes his silence as rejection and it shows in the uncertainty that mars her face. Bucky wishes he knew how to articulate that he is insanely attracted to her and how the way she laughs makes his heart believe it can jump mountains, but instead he is stunned into a quiet that fills the kitchen. He only met her a few hours ago. How can he even begin to explain it?

“We have cookies to make,” he says instead, eyes flitting to the open ingredients and he turns his head against her hand. She springs apart from him, cold rushing to fill in the space she’s left behind as she draws her hands towards herself.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess we do.” Her face falls and she grabs the sieve, a wobbly smile built on her lips. “Forget I brought it up, then.” She begins to sift her dry ingredients once again and he mentally groans to himself. Why is he such an idiot?

He mumbles her name softly, and she pauses, turning just so to look at him.

“I like you, too,” he says with a difficulty that shouldn’t be there, because it’s true. “I know I just met you today, but you’ve already made me feel… different, I guess”

“Different?” A tentative, stronger smile begins to curl the corner of her mouth and he nods, his lips twitching upwards. His hand, flesh and warm, settles on her hip all on its own, a fluttering touch that he is completely unsure of as he gently turns her to face him fully. She’s so damn gorgeous with flour on her face and eye bags beneath her eyes that he’s sure she will inevitably make his heart burst. It pounds in his head as he tries to grab at reasons he needs to step away, to stay away, but his heart battles his head ferociously. 

I’ll hurt you and I can’t stand the thought. I’ll hurt you or kill you or lose control and you can’t stop me and I don’t want to hurt you ever. His brain screams the words H.Y.D.R.A had thrown at him, the looks handlers had tossed at him flashing in his head—terrified, wild dog, monster.

I want to protect you, I want to love you, you light me up, I can protect you. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be better for you, if you could love someone like me. His heart whispers, louder than the silence. It’s the forties boy in him, the son his mama raised and the brother Rebecca loved, and he can recall the faces he’s adored—Steve, Ma, Becca.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Bucky murmurs and she hesitantly touches his face. His eyes flutter at her gentle touch and she takes it as an invitation to cup his face once again. “It’s just… you.”

“I’m not special,” she tells him bashfully, words brushing against his lips as he closes his eyes for a moment against her hand. When he opens them once again, he finds her watching, transfixed. There is a new serenity in her eyes, one that tells him she is completely enchanted on something that cannot be him—he is anything but an angel.

“You really are.”

“Now, now, Sergeant Barnes.” Her voice is warm as whiskey and he can get drunk off the sound of her laugh. He can feel her smile just by how her energy shifts and Bucky falls, for the first time in his life; he falls harder than he ever has. “Go on like that and you’ll get anything you want from me.” 

“Even permission to kiss the chef?” Bucky’s words, thick and hot, jumble in his mouth. Her nose brushes his, sparks tingling in his veins as her hand trails to cusp the back of his neck.

“That permission will always be granted without question.” 

He kisses her softly, hesitance laced through his lips and it is only when she crushes him against her does he bury his hand in his hair and kiss her like she is meant to be kissed: feverently, reverently, forever reminded that Bucky Barnes is lucky enough to be completely in love with her.

.

Bucky is quite sure Sam is in love with his girlfriend in the fact that he’s in love with the fact that his girlfriend is possibly in love with Bucky. Bucky himself doesn’t think that she could possibly be in love with him, but Sam is more than eager to prove otherwise.

“Sam asked what I’m getting everyone for Christmas.” She’s on the shoulder press, the muscles in her back flexing and waning in a slick sheen of sweat while Bucky completes his set of push-ups. 

“He’s thinking too far ahead,” he mutters. “It’s only the start of November.”

“Well, you know him. I think he just wants an opinion on what I’m getting you.” Standing up, she grabs her water bottle, squirting a stream of ice-cold water into her mouth before laying down beside him. “What do you want for Christmas?”

He pauses mid-way up from his two-hundredth push-up. “You don’t need to get me anything, doll.” The nickname is still a bit strange on his tongue but he thinks he can get used to it.

“Yeah, but I wanna get you something.” She juts out her bottom lip in an adorable pout, a telltale sign she wants him to kiss her and he leans on one hand to press a quick kiss onto her lips before resuming his workout. He knows the signs on what she wants fairly easily now. He’s grateful she’s spelt it out so many times for him. 

Playing with his fingers means she wants attention, a pout is a kiss, suctioning kisses to the neck means she’s feeling some sorta way and he’s more than happy to oblige that feeling. There’s a long list of little tells that Bucky’s starting to think it’s a whole other language.

“How about cookies?” he deflects and she rolls her eyes, getting up and sucking down some more water. 

“I make cookies for everyone. You deserve something special,” she argues and he sighs. “I really want to make our first Christmas special.” He lies down and pushes on his palms, stretching out in a cobra pose while she rolls over into the splits. He pulls back into child’s pose while she leans forward and he’s thankful for the silence.

What do I want? he wonders. What do I want that I don’t have already? His eyes drift to her form only a few centimetres away and he thinks, Nothing. 

“I’ve got everything I want right here,” he intones seriously, crawling forward and she turns to him, eyes wide. Sitting upright, she changes legs. “I guess I want nothing to change.”

“Dork,” she mumbles, and a sticky heat pools in his face as she pokes his cheek. He sits down and she offers him his water bottle with a shake. He shakes his head, the argument that his own is only in the locker room. “Come on. Locker room’s too far away from me.” A sweat drop tracks down her jaw and he smiles softly, brushing it away. Legs crossed, he takes it without taking a sip. “Besides, I told you you can take what you want. I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” he says, knowing full well it just doesn’t feel right to take back the hoodies she’s stolen from him. Maybe one by one, he’ll take them back and wear them for at least twenty four hours before giving them back. Then, his scent will stay with her. “What do you want for Christmas, then?”

“I—” Her sentence is cut off by an alert on his phone, one they both know not to ignore and she sighs. There is disappointment, their little bubble popped with a simple text. He sets down her water bottle to get it, gut dropping at the message displayed on his screen. “How long is it?”

“Emergency response in Cairo, I don’t know,” he murmurs. Pocketing his phone, he grabs his towel and rushes back to her. He grabs her face and presses a desperate kiss against her mouth, eyes squeezing shut and she mumbles words he can’t decipher against his grieving lips. Her fingers touch his jaw gently, a reminder that he must go, and he pulls away. “I’ll text you as soon as I can.”

“Stay safe.”

He smiles shakily and promises that he will.

.

“Barnes. We got a package for you.” Sharon Carter’s voice catches his attention from his sniper post and he blinks away the winter sun from his eyes. No movement still. “Merry Christmas.”

The blonde extends a box towards him, a slight smile curling her lips and he frowns at the stark bleakness of it. Black, and absorbing no light, it feels heavier than he thought it’d be. 

“Thanks.” He shifts, his bones clicking as he glances out the tiny slit of a window. There hasn’t been movement for weeks. Crossing his legs, he sets the box before him and a tiny blue hologram pops up from a tiny hole in the center. His eyebrows furrow together as it scans his face and he squints.

“Facial scan complete: Hello, James Buchanan Barnes.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoes in his small little perch and he still thinks it’s weird without having the side effect of Stark in his suit chasing after him to hear the A.I. but he shoves that uncomfortable feeling of the dead man out of his head. That is too much regret to unpack right now on a mission.

The box unfolds, the mechanical whir humming in his ears and a waft of sweet sugar rushes into his face as he peers within.

Cookies. Sugar cookies, butter cookies, frosting and crystal sprinkles, gingerbread, snickerdoodle, a note in her writing.

“She requested I ask you to read her note before eating the treats,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says and Bucky pulls out her note. “She also requested that you stay safe, despite not being home for Christmas.”

Taking the blue cue card, he sighs at the mere sight of her writing. His heart aches much more than he realized and he wonders if she misses him half as much as he misses her.

Buck,

Times may be tough while we’re apart, but absence only makes the heart grow fonder. Stay safe, Sarge, and come back to me.

Merry Christmas. Forever thinking of you. 

When he bites into one of those cookies, he melts into the wall he’s leaning to and closes his eyes, just imagining her standing in the kitchen with that Kiss the Chef apron tied tightly around her. The taste brings back memories, and brings him back home to New York, to her. Home, he muses wistfully, home is waiting for me with her laugh and smell and eyes. Home.

.

Bucky drops his bags as soon as he’s off the quinjet because he spots the dark blur that is his girlfriend in a track pants and a big poofy parka running down the road towards him. He barely gets his arms up in time before she’s flying into his arms and he lets out a grunt, stumbling back as he flings his arms around her waist and holds onto her tightly. Her legs squeeze his waist as she burrows her head into his neck and Sam laughs as he unpacks the equipment.

“Bucky,” she says, pulling back and his arms hold her to him still, gently supporting her back and her bottom. Her hand cups her face and she brushes hair out of his face, tracing a healing cut on his lip. “You’re home.” She embraces him again, thighs tightening as if she’s afraid to see him leave again and he merely closes his eyes, letting the first day of 2024 snow against his skin. “You’re home.”

“I’m home, lover,” he promises, and she laughs, face wet when she steps back onto solid ground again. He opens his eyes to admire her, a vision; a sight for sore eyes from the arms length he holds her at. The snow melts as it lands on her skin but it nestles in her hair, a frame of white for her pretty face that he’s missed far too much. “God, I’m home.”

She laughs, a watery smile surfacing as she leans up to kiss him. They are rapid, wet with emotion and she smiles against his lips, just laughing in relief. “I love you so much,” she whispers and he blinks, drawing back. Her face is the epitome of happiness as he gawks at her and she wipes at her eyes. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just… I love you.” She doesn’t look afraid, only confident in her feelings for him and he scoops her up, his heart bursting with sunlight.

“I love you, too,” he whispers into her ear, embracing her tightly. She lets out a tiny exhale at his strength but hugs him back tightly anyway. What is love if not hugs that barely allow you to breathe and kisses until you’re dizzy? Bucky doesn’t know. “God, I love you.”

.

Bucky learns a lot dating her.

She hums when she cuts his hair—which she does every so often—and likes to cuddle in her sleep. She bakes for every occasion she can think of and likes to spoil Bucky rotten. Although their jobs often keep them apart during the day, Bucky likes to just watch her in her environment, ordering the recruits around.

She has a different sport she favours for every season. Jogging in the fall, hockey in the winter, tennis in the spring and swimming in the summer. More often than not, she drags a happy Bucky with her to the rec centre and he’s more than happy to participate, whether he shows it or not.

She expresses her feelings through cooking, which Bucky has learnt the hard way. One time, they got into an argument over something stupid—he can’t even remember what started it—and came to the kitchen at 2AM to see her sitting at the kitchen island crying her eyes out and surrounded by baskets of muffins.

“Lover,” he had called out softly, already too loud for the eerie time between midnight and morning. “You’ve got a bit of a muffin problem.”  

“I know,” she had replied dejectedly. “I don’t know what to do with all of it, Buck.”

They had donated it to shelters around the city, going on their own from street to street with baskets full of muffins. It becomes ritual, to have days where they bring baked goods and homemade meals to those who need it.

She doesn’t really know how to take care of herself, based on how she treats herself during assessment season, so Bucky has to pick up her slack and feed her more than caffeine. He feeds her diets that are balanced and healthy, and makes meals that he learns in his spare time to share with her while she shouts herself raw at the soldiers. 

He remembers her favourite foods and music, and knows just how to put an exhausted girl to bed with makeup and bra off. He remembers to write when he’s gone for too long during missions, and he remembers her birthday, favourite colour, and which show she’s currently obsessing over. He always downloads the seasons to catch up so he understands what she’s talking about.

It’s safe to assume he knows when to propose, hell, he’d been ready the night they first baked together, but he just has to remember to catch her ring size. There’s so much of his mind cluttered with these useless yet utterly adorable facts about her that he can’t bring himself to delete, that it’s always the one thing he forgets to do.

Here is where his friends come in.

.

They’re all hanging in the lounge on a lazy autumn day. Their one year anniversary is coming up and Bucky and Sam are watching football while she talks to Wanda about potential plans.

“Popcorn,” Sam says without tearing his eyes off the screen, shoving the bowl in their general direction. Bucky grabs it unceremoniously, popping a few into his mouth while she twists in his grip to pass the bowl to Wanda. 

“I have cookies cooling, boys,” she warns them and Wanda chuckles. The witch puts the bowl back on the table next to the empty nacho plate while Bucky’s girlfriend decides to curl against him, and his arm around her waist squeezes her close. His hand trails down to her thigh, hoisting her legs up while she peppers kisses on the underside of his jaw. 

“I don’t understand anything about this game,” Wanda intones once commercials hit, amused when Sam lets out a shout of disappointment. Beeping from the kitchen, a timer, breaks whatever retort he was prepared to throw back at the Sokovian and Bucky lets out a whine when his girlfriend unwinds from his lap to get up.

“Sorry, babe, but I gotta get them before they get too cold,” she says and Bucky frowns before nodding. He cups the back of her neck, and she kisses him quickly before pulling away and skipping to the kitchen. Wanda immediately crawls into the space on the other side of Bucky on the couch, pulling out her phone while Sam leans over to whisper.

“She sends me pictures all the time,” Wanda begins nefariously and Sam pulls out a strip of paper, a line in pencil across it. As he rolls it up into a ring, Wanda leans over to show Bucky pictures of the girls’ conversation. “She adores all of them, but she cannot decide.”

“And here you go, man.” Sam gives the paper ring to Bucky. “Got it while she was taking a nap.”

“She wants silver rather than gold,” Wanda says.

“And she doesn’t care about a venue.”

“But she likes the idea of a seasonal wedding.”

“Dude, she wants your babies.”

“She wants two or three kids.”

Bucky’s head begins to spin as they continue to bombard him with facts or proof that she actually wants to spend a life with him, and he blinks, staring at the commercials that still flash in his face. Grabbing Wanda’s phone, he focuses on the images that his girlfriend had sent the witch, gorgeous silver rings with diamonds, some with less, some with more, and simply tunes the two out, trying to internally decide what he should buy her. Meanwhile, Sam and Wanda have fallen into some argument about whether or not Bucky’s wedding is going to be a summer or winter wedding, when a new voice pierces the air.

“Who wants cookies?” 

Immediately, a hush falls over them. Bucky tears his eyes away from the phone just as Wanda snatches it back just in time for her to appear, striding into the room with the smell of cookies rushing in after her. She sends them an odd glance, and the trio of Avengers merely separate as she sets down the plate. A fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies are stacked ontop of a porcelain plate and Sam lunges forward to grab one while she picks one up delicately and resumes her place on Bucky’s lap.

“What were you three talking about?” she asks, amused, and he takes the cookie with a click of his mechanical arm. She tucks her head underneath his chin while his hand goes back to her thigh and he bites into the cookie.

“Nothing you gotta worry about,” he says. The game starts again and she can’t pipe up to argue without Sam telling them to shut up, so she doesn’t. Instead, she rests her head on his chest and Bucky hopes she doesn’t hear his heart beating like crazy in his chest. 

By the tiny smile he can feel against his chest, she can hear it.

.

Bucky holds the ring in his pocket for four months.

He had bought it the very next day after the football game because if he had let it sit, the nerves would’ve gotten to him, but now, new nerves are causing him to become paranoid: waiting for the perfect moment, scared that she’ll find out.

He thinks the proposal should be grand and all about how much he loves her and how much she’s shown him and loved him and it needs to be perfect. It is anything but that.

“Morning,” she whispers as her eyes flutter open. She’s laying against him in their comfy, toasty bed, and he doesn’t want to move for Christmas festivities except they both have to—a charity breakfast for veterans where Bucky is speaking, then a novice hockey game because his girlfriend just had to teach the cutest little seven year old boys how to utterly destroy their opponents, and then dinner. 

He traces shapes along the slope of her back lazily, craning his head to look at him and she smiles dazedly.

“Hey, lover.” He grins easier now, and when his smile splits his face, her own does too. “We’ve got a day ahead of us.”

“A day that’s way too long for Christmas,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his chest. “Convince me to get up.” It’s still dark outside, a blissful 5AM full of snow delicately fluttering outside their window. He wraps a leg around her waist, pulling her close while she dozes and she lets out a contented sigh at his arm draped over her side.

“Don’t want to,” he replies, eyes closing. “Want you to stay right here with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Kinda want to stay here forever,” he continues drowsily, eyes fluttering shut and she shakes in his arms with a silent laugh. “Wish everyday could be like this.”

“You wake up earlier, and maybe it could be,” she retorts. Of course the early bird in her is perfect for her morning drills with her recruits, but Bucky prefers to sleep in like the owl he is, and he lets out a snort, kissing her hairline. “Just saying.”

“I’m too busy catching up on your shows.” His arm tightens around her.

“Catching up. Liar. I know you were up at 2 AM this morning binge-watching.” She tilts her head up, eyes opening. A spark lights up her face and a mischievous curl of her lip tells Bucky she’s about to say something that’s going to make him blush. “Just admit you like Gossip Girl and go, babe.”

“Alright, I like it.” Rolling his eyes, he pecks her forehead and she smiles victoriously. It’s so adorable that Bucky, with less than three hours of sleep, adds, “God, I want to marry you.”

“What?”

Oh.

Shit.

Bucky is suddenly more awake than if someone had thrown him into an ice bath. She almost throws herself off of him, sitting up and he follows her with his eyes as she twists to turn on the lights. Golden light paints her a goddess, and her hair is messy atop her head as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Bucky sits up slowly, the blanket pooling around their waists, and she blinks at him as he chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Do you not want to get married?” he asks slowly, almost afraid. Although he’s nearly 100% certain she wants to be with him, a part of him still bites at his stomach with doubt. “Have… have I been looking at this wrong?” He doesn’t tear his eyes away, holding this staring contest as she continues to stare at him, lips slightly parted and he reaches over to touch her hand. “You okay, lover?”

“You wanna marry me?” she asks, and he nods slowly, fire rising in his stomach and crawling up his neck as he makes a mental note never to keep secrets from her because when he’s been running on three hours of sleep, he likes to spill his guts where he feels safe. 

“I… I got a ring and everything.” He turns to open the drawer on his nightstand and pulls out the dark navy box, velvet brushing against his sleep-numb fingers. “Wanda and Sam helped, and I was going to make this a big thing, but—” He’s tripping over his words as he pries it open, and he watches as her gaze falls to the silver ring, the exact one from one of the pictures Wanda had shown him—”I know I don’t really deserve you, and god, you deserve better than a proposal at 5 AM but I really do want to marry you.”

“Buck—”

“I love you. I love you so much it’s crazy because I didn’t think anyone could love me, or that I could open my heart to someone like you, and I know you deserve more than this, a better man, but—”

“Bucky—”

“All I’m trying to say is… thank you. For loving me.” His sleep addled brain tries to scramble for more things to say, and he smiles, almost sad but so, so, very much in love. “Thank you for bringing laughter into my life again.”

“Bucky, you fucking dork,” are her first words and he blinks as she lunges into his body. The blankets twist and her warm muscles wrap around him as she peppers kisses all over his face. “You wonderful, wonderful man. I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you.” His arm props him up against her body as he holds onto the box and she straddles his waist, twisting to look at the box. Her smile is tender as she takes out the ring and slides it onto her finger and he smiles bashfully when she shows him the fit. He lets the velvet box slip from his hand to cup her waist and he sighs blissfully when she leans to kiss him.

“Remember when I asked what you wanted for Christmas last year?” she murmurs against his lips and he smiles as the cool metal of her new ring trails down his neck to his shoulder. “And you said you wanted nothing to change…”

“I guess I just didn’t want anything more than you,” he whispers fondly and she smiles, eyes closing as she knocks her forehead against his. “But this one change I can handle.”

“Yeah?” She opens her eyes to stare deeply into his and he smiles, a warm curl to his lip.

“Yeah.”

#fic: cookies and rings and things #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan imagine #my writing

[clubyukhei]

giant baby

pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader

genre: fluff, slice of life

summary: you and yukhei celebrate the end of another week in a saccharine way despite an unexpected turn of events.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: this started out as a timestamp… but it soon exceeded 1k words so here we are. but also there’s no such thing as too much dad!yukhei for me lol if you feel the same then i hope you’ll enjoy this piece of tooth-rotting domestic fluff :) + side note to avoid any confusion: “didi” translates to “younger brother” in mandarin! 

*reposted due to tag problems. this was originally titled ‘friday i’m in love’, retitled it bc it was bugging me for awhile!

-

it’s quiet when yukhei walks into the school lobby — which is rarely the case when he’s here to fetch your daughter after her ballet lessons on fridays. 

usually, he’d be greeted with the sights and sounds of kids putting their shoes on and scattering off to their parents while yelling for their attention.

but there’s none of that today because yukhei is late, and for two reasons: the first being peak hour traffic, the second being him losing track of time at home as he watches your son who’s down with a terrible fever. 

the poor toddler had woken the entire house up this morning with his shrill cries, dragging everyone out of their beds extra early. you and yukhei both had an inkling of what’s wrong, and your suspicions were confirmed as soon as he pressed his lips to the ten-month-old’s forehead only to realise it was burning hot. 

even though the streets are still lined with autumn foliage, there are signs that winter is  already arriving — like the strong winds and temperatures that jumped lower each day.

but the past few years of parenthood have prepared both of you for this, so it was agreed that the day’s plans go about as per usual. 

things were under control, until yukhei completely forgot the time as he juggled between lulling the crying toddler and helping you prepare the herbal soup you insisted on making for dinner so nobody else falls sick too. 

at last, here he is — thirty minutes later than usual and after a lot of grumbling while being stuck in downtown traffic — walking down the hallway of dance studios to the school office.

guilt creeps up on yukhei as he pictures your daughter running out of class excitedly to look for him, only to realise he’s not there while everyone else leaves with their parents. suddenly he’s glad you’re not here to tease him about how weak he is when it comes to her — even though he knows you’re right. 

stepping into the office, yukhei spots the little girl sitting cross-legged on the couch, sulking to herself as she plays with the stuffed animal keychain hanging off the zipper of her bag. 

“princess?” he calls out softly.

“daddy!” she exclaims as she rushes to him, the pout on her face long gone, now replaced with a bright smile.

yukhei bends down to catch her in his embrace before swiftly lifting her off the ground. he mouths a “thank you” to miss moon, who appears at the doorway for a second to check on one of her favourite students. 

“daddy, did you forget about me?” the ballerina in his arms asks curiously. “why did you take so long?” 

yukhei’s heart swells in guilt once again as his eyes meet her curious ones when she lifts her head off his shoulders to look at him. it’s an innocent question that has him speechless for a second. 

“no, no...  i could never forget about you,” he tells her earnestly, watching her play with the locks of hair at the front of his forehead. 

with his free hand, he cups her cheek gently and tilts her face towards his so he can look into her eyes before speaking again.

“i’m sorry, princess.” he says, smoothing over the softness of her cheek with a thumb. “i was stuck in traffic. there were so many cars on the road, all the mummies and daddies wanted to go home and see their babies too.”

“oh,” the little girl nods in realisation. “it’s okay, daddy. i wanna go home and see didi too!”

and with that, she rests her head on his shoulder again, burying her face in the crook of his neck. yukhei is slightly dumbfounded.

“really? were you scared when you didn’t see daddy?”

“no! i’m a big girl, remember?”

yukhei chuckles, both relieved and amused by the four-year-old’s answer. 

“yes you are.”

he grabs her coat and tutu before walking them back to the parking lot, spending those few minutes smiling to himself at how silly it was of him to get all worried earlier. 

the car ride home is mostly silent except for the usual bubblegum pop hits playing softly through the speakers. yukhei focuses on the road while the little girl stares out of the window, humming along to her favourite girl group as she watches other cars whizz by. 

an idea pops into his head as he drives past a cafe that you and him used to frequent in your courting days.

your daughter gasps when she realises he’s pulling into a drive-thru. 

“a special treat since daddy was late today, okay?”

“yay! are we getting ice cream?” 

“no ice cream for today, princess. it’s getting cold and i don’t want you falling sick like your didi.” yukhei hums. “how about a babyccino?”

“okay! thank you daddy,” she rejoices, wiggling excitedly in her booster seat. 

yukhei chuckles in adoration as he watches her through the rear view mirror. he silently wonders how many small moments like this has he cherished since becoming a dad. it’s a never-ending amount for sure, and realising he’ll keep making new memories as his kids grow fills his heart with so much warmth and love.

-

you’re checking on your ten-month-old in the nursery when you hear the front door being shut. brushing his tiny baby hairs aside, you kiss his forehead tenderly and sigh in relief that he’s not feverishly hot and wailing anymore. 

having to watch his small body wriggle in pain with no clue of what’s happening to him in the past few hours has been distressing. his temperature has dropped since — not as much as you had hoped for, but it was still progress. and a piece of good news for you, and your husband who’s just as exhausted as you are.

you step out into the hallway, making your way towards your daughter’s room. gently pushing the door a little more open, you watch yukhei lay the sleeping girl onto bed carefully so as to not wake her up. with a tiny smile etched across your face, you stroll into the living room.

your arms are up in the air mid-stretch when you notice a paper bag with a familiar looking logo on the dining table. 

“you’re welcome,” yukhei sings as he walks past you and into the kitchen.

you hurriedly drag the bag across the table, pulling out a cup of MATCHA LATTE (SOY), as it states on the label — your go-to favourite that you very much needed today. 

“oh my.” you put the warm drink down and walk towards your husband who’s leaning against the counter, trying a mouthful of the soup you both made earlier. 

you’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion of carrying out parent duties all day or the thought of yukhei stopping by that alfresco cafe that holds so many sweet memories, but you’re feeling an overwhelming amount of affection for your husband at the moment — so you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his back, enjoying the warmth and scent of his body.

“what would i do without you? thank you baby.” 

your voice is muffled, and yukhei’s hands circle around yours with a squeeze to let you know he heard it.

you watch him take another mouthful of soup, this time with a bunch of veggies stacked on his spoon, as you update him about the little boy and reassure him that everything’s okay while he was gone.

“how did it go, by the way? were you late?” you ask.

“mmhmm. but our _____ is a big girl, she didn’t cry at all.”

“of course. if anyone’s crying, it’s you, my giant baby.”

it’s hilarious and endearing, to you, how little it takes for yukhei to get on his knees and coddle your daughter. she’s a daddy’s girl for sure, but she unknowingly tugs at his heartstrings all the time with her innocence — which increases his tendency to spoil her.

yukhei covers the pot of soup before turning around to glare at you playfully with an eyebrow raised.

“don’t you think you should be nicer to me after that little surprise?” 

you merely giggle, turning around to grab your matcha latte. 

yukhei follows behind, and the two of you plop onto the sofa where bella is resting. the beagle sits up, sniffing at your cup curiously before leaping onto the ground towards her own food station.

“the kids are asleep... you know what that means.” yukhei yawns. 

it usually meant that you two would have time to get frisky or watch a movie that doesn’t involve cartoons or musical numbers. but you and him knew you both needed something else today.

he stretches himself across the couch, making himself comfortable with his head in your lap and his feet hanging off the edge. 

“it means nap time for you.” 

“and you too.” 

“but i got to rest a bit while you were out, baby.” you set the lid of your drink aside, taking a sip of the milk foam. “it’s your turn now. i’ll wake you up when it’s dinner time.” 

yukhei hums. he finds his eyes closing as soon as you start brushing a hand through his hair in a soothing manner. 

a few moments pass. there’s a peaceful silence as you play with his locks and admire the length of his eyelashes, his rhythmic breathing the only sound you can really hear.

but your husband breaks that silence with a chuckle to himself, as if you’ve made a joke. 

you’re confused. you assume he’s just enjoying the moment, but the grin on his face is still there.

“are you dreaming already?”

yukhei laughs this time, shaking his head.

“i just realised something. _____ does this too, you know?”

“huh?” 

“she likes messing my hair around. just like her mum.”

you try to bite back a smile, but it’s a total failure. giddy with affection, you press a long kiss to his forehead.

“go to sleep, giant baby.”

#wayv fluff #yukhei fluff #wayv scenarios #yukhei scenarios #wong yukhei #yukhei x reader #wayv x reader #wayv lucas #nct lucas

[babysizedfics]

okok so i dont know if virgil would like it (bc of the separation anxiety) but how does he feel abt peek a boo? i imagine his cgs would make it super fun! like have him on his mama’s lap with his papa in front of him and theyre like “wheres the baby??” and pat covers his eyes “there he is!!” and pat gets all happy and excited to see virgil so v gets all excited which makes pat even mOre excited so v gets lil happy kissies!!!! (can u tell ive been wanting to play peek a boo hdhdj)

I HAD TO SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

I hope you don't mind but i made this into a fic it was essential it was unavoidable i was crying as i wrote this

Title: Peekaboo!

Summary: Logan is a shy new caregiver, Patton learns what separation anxiety is, and Virgil disappears then reappears and is a very confused baby.

Word count: 6,600

Note: Set before the events of Little Accidents, Big Developments (AO3 | tumblr)

Also on AO3

oOo

It had been a somewhat slow day. Roman had been holed up in his room for most of it, rehearsing for an audition that Thomas had landed for the following week. He was working rather relentlessly, though Patton had been sure to request that he at least leave his room for mealtimes - and Logan had outright demanded it when Roman stubbornly refused. After a very speedy lunch, Roman was back in his room and the other three were left to their own devices in the living room.

Quite understandably, Patton had noticed Virgil was much antsier that afternoon. Probably because Roman was constantly talking about how absolutely essential it was that Thomas did not mess up a single line in next week’s audition and that he personally would “enter into a state of devastated mourning should this chance at stardom be killed and dashed across the stage floor”.

That had evidently sent Virgil’s anxiety into a downward spiral. After the fourth shaky sigh in as many minutes from the younger side’s lips, Patton shook his head and twisted on the couch to look at him.

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ Patton said, giving a rare stern look to the boy who was currently pacing the living room floor and looking just about ready to tear his hair out. ‘No more worrying, Stormcloud.’

‘I can’t help it!’ Virgil whispered quite fiercely. His eyes were wide and though they looked in Patton’s direction, it was as if his gaze was fixed a mile in the distance, likely imagining a variation of disastrous scenarios. ‘We could choke or trip or literally do the worst performance ever and Roman would be depressed and then we might not be able to make videos for months because he’s so distraught and what if it was all my fault? What if I was the one to make Thomas mess up and then Roman would hate me and -’

‘Breathe,’ Logan commanded from where he sat in the armchair reading a book.

As if being shaken from a spell, Virgil’s frantic pacing halted and he gasped in a breath.

‘It was not your fault because it has not happened. Roman won’t hate you because even if it did happen, the blame could not fall solely on your shoulders. Everything is going to be all right, Virgil.’

At Logan’s reassuring words, Virgil nodded slightly to himself, his eyes fixed on his feet as he took in steady, though shallow breaths.

Patton bit his lip for a moment in thought. It was obvious that Virgil would not be able to get past this anxiety without a distraction… and what better distraction than being a baby?

With a firm nod to himself that meant Yes, this is definitely the only solution. Not just because I love looking after my baby, of course, Patton switched the TV over from the show he had been watching to Guess How Much I Love You, one of Virgil’s favourite cartoons in littlespace.

As soon as the bright musical score started playing, Virgil and Logan’s gazes both snapped up to the screen. The older one smiled slightly while the younger side’s thumb flew to his mouth in an instant. He began nibbling on his nail as a young child’s voice sang the opening song:

“Dancing through springtime,

Flowers are raised in summer sun,

Catching white snowflakes on your nose,

Running through autumn leaves that float from trees from high,

With a love that is bigger than the sky”

Patton beamed at how Virgil seemed fully enraptured by the animated rabbit and bright flowers on the screen. The moral side happily joined in singing his favourite part of the song, all while gazing at Virgil.

‘Guess how much I love you, guess how much I love you -’ he held his arms out to Virgil in an invitation for a hug ‘- Guess how much I love you!’

‘’M not little,’ Virgil mumbled with a strong blush gracing his cheeks. It was so quiet that Patton wouldn’t be surprised if Logan had not been able to hear it, being slightly further away from them.

‘I know, sweetheart,’ Patton said gently through a smile, knowing that Virgil’s statement wouldn’t be true for very long. His arms remained open. ‘But maybe we can just watch a bit and see if it helps you calm down.’

There was a stiff nod and within a few seconds Virgil had plopped down onto the couch beside Patton, instantly snuggling up to him.

Patton allowed himself a small chuckle as he wrapped his arms around Virgil and pulled him into his lap. Seeing Logan’s proud smile filled him with far more joy than he was currently able to express if he didn’t want to accidentally fling Virgil off of his lap, so he let it fizzle away in his chest with a bright grin. As he settled back to watch the show, he pretended not to notice his baby’s thumb slipping into his mouth.

Needless to say, by the end of the ten-minute episode, Virgil was entirely gone.

‘Papa?’

Patton nearly squealed. He wasn’t quite over his excitement for Virgil’s new nickname for him. ‘Yes, my sweet little fieldmouse?’

‘Peas Minpy?’ Virgil garbled around his thumb, twisting his head to look pleadingly at Patton.

That look… Virgil had no idea what that look did to Patton’s heart. With a firm hand on his chest, Patton said, ‘Okay, baby. Let’s go upstairs and get Minty.’

‘I can fetch them,’ Logan quickly announced from the armchair. Patton watched as he snapped his book shut quite hurriedly, stood, paused for a second as he clearly got a head-rush from standing so fast, then made his way over to them. ‘I’m going to go and get Minty for you, Virgil,’ he explained, leaning down to be eye level with them.

His hand reached forward hesitantly and patted Virgil’s head twice, to which the regressor replied with a giggle and a poke to Logan’s wrist.

Patton fought very hard to contain an adoring smile as Logan’s cheeks flushed before he bustled out of the living room. The logical side was a little awkward in his attempts at physical affection, but they never failed to put a smile on Virgil’s face so Patton could hardly tease him about it. And it wasn’t Logan’s fault that cuddles and kisses didn’t come as naturally to him as they did to Patton. He was trying, and it only made Patton all the more smitten with him.

Feeling his cheeks warm at that thought, Patton quickly busied himself with holding Virgil’s hand (the one that was not currently glued to his chin while he sucked his thumb) and started circling his finger on the little one’s palm. ‘Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…’

After a short while of singing and tickling and giggling, Logan returned with Minty in tow. One of Virgil’s little baby blankets was slung over his shoulder. At Patton’s raised eyebrow he shrugged it with a short explanation of: ‘Just in case he needs it.’

Virgil snatched his thumb out of his mouth with a muted pop and held his hands out to the soft toy with a whine.

‘Can you remember what word we say when we want something?’ Patton nudged Virgil slightly, though kept him in a firm embrace to make sure the boy didn’t topple off of his lap with his lack of balance.

Virgil’s face turned back to him. He opened his mouth as if ready to say something then frowned and snapped his jaw shut with a pout. Another whine came forth, this time sounding a bit upset.

‘Aww, are you too little, sweetie?’ Patton cooed. Virgil’s head suddenly collapsed onto his shoulder and he heard a sniffle. ‘No, no, it’s okay. It’s all right, baby,’ he hastened to reassure, bringing his hand up to stroke Virgil’s hair soothingly. He really was so sensitive when he was this small, it was difficult to avoid upsetting him. That was one thing that had been difficult to come to terms with when Patton first became Virgil’s caregiver. ‘You’re allowed to be as little as you want.’

The cushion beneath him dipped and he realised the sudden firm warmth pressing against his arm was Logan, who was sitting incredibly close to him. It was difficult not to blush. And so Patton did blush.

‘Virgil, look who has come to see you,’ Logan said so warmly that it melted Patton’s heart.

A curious baby pulled his face off of Patton’s shoulder and all remnants of upset on his features were quickly replaced by sheer happiness. Patton thought it would never get old, seeing Virgil’s eyes sparkle with such rare joy.

A lopsided grin stretched Logan’s lips as he pressed the stuffed dinosaur into the crook of Virgil’s arm. ‘There we are.’

The sweetest little squeak sounded as Virgil sat more upright on Patton’s lap and hugged the toy tightly, burying his face in its fur.

‘So much for not being little,’ Logan murmured lowly by Patton’s ear in an amused tone. The rumble of it resonated right through the moral side’s chest and left him dumbstruck.

‘Yeah,’ Patton breathed, not being able to think of anything much smarter to add.

oOo

Twenty minutes and a couple more episodes of Guess How Much I Love You later, Patton and Virgil (now with a pacifier) were being silly on the carpet. By being silly, they were quite literally just making funny faces at each other and then taking a minute’s break while they calmed down from all of the giggles and aching smiles than ensued.

Logan, being “not one for such tomfoolery”, was back to reading in the armchair. Though Patton had noticed that he was tending to spend more and more time on each page as he cast more and more glances over to the two on the carpet.

It was quite evident that Logan was eager to take care of Virgil, and it was becoming more prominent every day. He was incredibly passionate about the idea when he had first discussed it with Patton nearly a month previously and had been damn near ecstatic when Virgil had agreed to the suggestion. Though, going by his timidity and shy glances when Patton was caring for Virgil around him, it seemed his nerves were getting the better of him. Well, Patton couldn’t have that at all.

‘Oh, you’re such a silly baby!’ Patton chuckled when Virgil scrunched up his face as if he had eaten a lemon slice. ‘Papa’s gonna be right back, sweetheart.’

Without much delay, Patton jumped up with a big smile and ruffled Virgil’s hair, only just noticing that his face had fallen as he walked away. He would be fine, especially with Logan looking after him.

‘Where are you going?!’ Logan practically shrieked, his eyes wide and staring at Patton in disbelief.

Patton couldn’t help but giggle. ‘I’m just going to pee. You can watch Virgil while I’m gone!’ he cried a bit too excitedly if the look of suspicion on Logan’s face was anything to go by. ‘Come on, Lo. You are his other caregiver, aren’t you?’

That seemed to humble Logan as he looked to his lap and fidgeted with his tie. ‘Yes, I - of course.’

As Patton moved out into the hallway he heard Logan sliding off of his chair and talking to Virgil in quiet, gentle tones. He smiled, knowing that Logan truly did have it in him to be a carer, he just needed some encouragement.

Within mere minutes Patton was on his way back to the living room. If he took his bathroom trip quite languidly and chose to use the upstairs bathroom just to have a longer journey, he was sure no-one would have noticed. It was all for a good cause, after all. Though, he began to doubt this reasoning when he became aware of wet sniffles and whimpers and frantic hushes coming from the living room.

‘Logan, is everything okay?’ Patton asked as he pushed the door open.

He was met with the sight of a red-faced, tear-stained Virgil pulling very harshly on his pacifier handle. Logan was knelt beside him, holding his hands out in a placating gesture and looking quite concerned.

It only took a second or so for Patton to drop by Virgil’s side and immediately wrap him in a warm hug. The younger’s crying slowed as he buried his face in Patton’s chest.

‘What happened?’ Patton whispered, looking up at Logan’s bewildered stare.

‘He started crying the minute you left,’ Logan said, his brow furrowed (beautifully), ‘but I could not find any indication of injury or anything in the vicinity that might have caused such a sudden drop in mood.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Patton murmured sadly as he gazed upon his curled up baby, suddenly understanding. He lifted Virgil slightly to bring him into his lap. ‘It’s okay, Lo. Sometimes he does that when I leave him for a bit.’

Just as with every time previously, Virgil’s tears had completely subsided now that he was in Patton’s embrace. Rather than whimpers and sniffles, the only sounds coming from him were the suckling of his pacifier and a small sigh of content.

Logan seemed thrown off by the sudden change. ‘He cries when you leave the room? Is there no suggestion that he could be upset by extraneous variables in these situations?’

‘I don’t know much about “ex-trainer vary balls” but nothing else happens to make him cry.’ Patton tightened his hold around Virgil protectively. ‘He just misses his papa.’

The way Logan’s frown pulled down even more was slightly less cute this time, only because it made Patton worry.

‘Patton, I don’t believe this qualifies as “just missing his papa”. This may be a case of separation anxiety.’

Even as his baby snuggled into him further, Patton felt his heart sink. ‘That doesn’t sound very nice. What is it?’

‘In short, it means that he is aware enough to realise just how dependent he is on you, but not in an old enough headspace to have a solid understanding of object permanence.’ Patton’s confusion must have shown on his face because Logan immediately elaborated, ‘When something leaves his line of sight, he believes it has ceased to exist.’

‘Oh, that can’t be right.’ Patton looked down at the sleepy boy in his lap. ‘No, he must know I’m still gonna come back to him. I always come back to him.’ Purple tendrils of hair parted around his fingertips as he stroked his little one’s head.

‘Allow me to demonstrate,’ Logan said, then picked Minty up from where they had apparently been abandoned on the carpet. ‘Virgil,’ he called, ‘Vee, look over here. Look at Minty.’

With a little snuffle, Virgil lifted his head from Patton’s shoulder. It was noticeable how his eyes sparkled upon seeing his favourite toy. ‘Minpy!’ he squealed in excitement.

‘Aww,’ Patton cooed, unable to hide his adoration for just how sweet his little boy was.

‘Don’t you think he was surprised to see Minty?’ Logan questioned, holding Minty just out of reach from Virgil who was starting to whine as he held his arm out to the toy.

‘Well… I guess so, but that doesn’t mean -’

Minty was suddenly pulled away and hidden behind Logan’s back, completely out of sight. An expression of fake-surprise crossed Logan’s features as he looked at Virgil. ‘Where did Minty go, Vee?’

Watching Virgil’s reaction, Patton was beginning to understand what Logan meant. A mild panic had clouded over Virgil’s eyes and he looked frantically between Patton’s face and Logan’s now empty hand. It wasn’t long before the whimpering started anew.

‘Sweetie, it’s okay,’ Patton murmured, rocking him slightly on his lap. ‘You remember where Minty went, don’t you?’

Wet eyes locked onto his. ‘Gom,’ Virgil whispered forlornly.

‘He’s not gone, baby. See.’ Patton sent a pointed look to Logan, to which the logical side at least had the decency to appear embarrassed by his experiment and pulled Minty back out from behind him.

Virgil gasped through his pacifier, apparently shocked by the toy’s sudden reappearance. He whined and made desperate grabby hands at the toy.

‘There you go, Virgil.’ The toy was pushed into Virgil’s hands and instantly squeezed against his chest in a tight hug. Logan looked back up to Patton a little shyly. ‘I apologise for upsetting him. I had to prove my hypothesis.’

A sigh escaped Patton as he swayed his baby gently. Logan did honestly look remorseful, and he had shown Patton what object permanence was (or more what it wasn’t) so perhaps it was all right. Even if it hadn’t been in a very fun way. ‘So, does he think I… I die when I leave the room?’ he whispered shakily.

‘Not nearly so morbid,’ Logan reassured, actually reaching out to stroke his finger across Virgil’s knuckle. It was a very small act of affection, but Patton appreciated it nonetheless. ‘He does not have the mental capacity to think about anything that he cannot see. When you leave him, he cannot see you and so all he can think about at that moment is your absence, rather than believe you could exist somewhere that is not with him.’

The strangest bittersweet feeling swirled in Patton’s chest. Sure, it was kind of cute that Virgil loved and needed his papa so much that he always wanted to be with him. But Patton couldn’t be with him all the time. He did his best, of course, but he couldn’t exactly go hours without needing to go to the bathroom or fetching something from the cupboard.

‘Can we maybe fix it?’ Patton asked.

That crinkle in between Logan’s eyebrows came forth again and Patton longed to press his lips against it and smooth it out with a kiss. ‘There are simple activities we can do to try to reinforce object permanence. Though given the fact that he is not truly a developing child, I am unsure if they will have any effect on him.’

‘It’s worth a try though, right?’ Patton didn’t want his baby to be needlessly upset if they could help it.

A soft smile stretched Logan’s lips, and it made it quite tricky to remain worried. ‘It’s worth a try.’

And try they did. They really did.

As per Logan’s suggestion, they started with Patton leaving the room for progressively longer bouts of time. Thirty seconds, then one minute, then two minutes, and et cetera. At least, that had been the plan. In practice, it was much more resemblant of ten seconds, Virgil’s distressed whimpering, and Patton dashing back to comfort his baby. Then ten seconds, then Virgil whimpering, then Patton dashing. Ten seconds, whimpering, dashing. All in all, they considered it a failed attempt. (Patton was very glad that Logan didn’t reprimand him for ruining the experiment.) (‘You didn’t ruin anything, Patton.’)

The next activity was hiding objects and showing Virgil that they would always be revealed again. Minty had been the first choice, though Virgil was still rather distressed from their first activity and was clinging onto the toy tightly. The caregivers came to a silent agreement that it would not be fair to take away his comfort item. They instead attempted to hide things from around the room; little trinkets such as a photo frame or one of Roman’s sketchpads he had left lying around.

Virgil at least did not start crying whenever they were hidden behind Logan’s back or under his baby blanket. In fact, he hardly seemed to notice them disappear at all. No matter how much baby-talk and coaxing from Patton and Logan, the regressor did not react to them and only frowned and buried his head against Patton’s chest with a whine that almost resembled a groan of annoyance. Apparently he was entirely uninterested in the activity when it concerned such boring objects.

‘Virgil, look. Roman’s drawings are all gone,’ Logan announced, pulling the blankie over the sketchpad for the fourth time. Patton felt Virgil’s head roll on his chest lazily to look. ‘And now -’ Logan pulled the blanket back with a little gasp, revealing the book, ‘- there they are, they came back!’

‘Wow, would you look at that!’ Patton gasped, shaking Virgil very gently to try to excite him.

A soft grunt sounded before Virgil buried his pouting face in Minty’s tummy.

Both caregivers sighed.

‘Perhaps this activity is too impersonal to interest him,’ Logan mumbled, looking more than a little disheartened.

It wasn’t a surprise, given how passionate Logan was about educational activities. Despite the logical side’s hesitance with being solely responsible for a regressed Virgil, he had displayed plenty of interest in the boy’s wellbeing. Over the past few weeks wherein he had been subject to Virgil’s regression, Logan had had plenty of input in ways Patton could play with him and similarly teach him things that his regressed self had not known before. Patton, in turn, had convinced Logan that he himself partake in the activities too, and hence Virgil’s comfort around him had been gradually growing.

So seeing how disappointed Logan was by Virgil despondence for this activity, Patton absolutely had to do something to remedy it. He just had a fussy baby to get through first.

‘Oh no!’ Patton cried, knowing that it would be enough to get Virgil’s attention. As expected, the baby looked up from his toy still adorning a frown as he suckled his pacifier. ‘Vee, I’ve lost something very important and I can’t find it!’

Virgil’s grumpy expression melted into a worried one and he looked over to Logan. Then he pointed at the other side and whined at Patton.

A giggle worked its way through Patton’s words as he explained, ‘No, I didn’t lose Logan. I can’t find my happy little baby anywhere!’

Shyness replaced Virgil’s confusion as Minty was pulled up to cover most of his face.

‘Is he…’ Patton hummed in thought for a moment, then fluttered his finger under Virgil’s ear, ‘over here?’

A little squeak was muffled behind Minty as Virgil’s eyes crinkled. But, Patton thought in amusement, he still couldn’t see Virgil’s smile, so technically it didn’t count.

‘No?’ Patton gasped, then moved his finger down to wiggle over the sole of Virgil’s socked foot. ‘Is he under there?’

With a strained giggle, Virgil dropped Minty to push at Patton’s hand quite weakly. His dimples were starting to show.

Biting his lip around a grin, Patton released Virgil’s foot but then started circling his finger around in midair teasingly. ‘Oh, I wonder where my happy little one could be.’

‘Papa!’ Virgil called, giggling around his pacifier.

‘Oh my, I think I heard him!’ Patton’s finger started wriggling and moving towards Virgil’s tummy. ‘Could he be in here?’

He slid his finger under Virgil’s shirt and started squiggling over his tummy. Virgil was immediately squirming in his lap, giggling uncontrollably.

‘There’s my happy baby!’ Patton laughed.

For another couple of moments, the room was filled with the sounds of Virgil’s bright laughter and the soft kicks of his feet against the carpet. Then Logan spoke up:

‘Actually, this poses another suggestion.’

Patton twisted in his place, keeping a firm hold on Virgil who was still calming from his giggles. At some point during the tickle attack, Logan had apparently moved back to the armchair. While he was sitting quite stiffly and avoiding Patton’s eyes, there was a slight twist in his lips that suggested he was holding back a smile.

‘What’s that, Loganberry?’

A half-hearted scoff greeted that nickname, though Logan continued regardless. ‘Playing Where’s the baby? - otherwise referred to as Peekaboo - is a commonly used tactic in teaching object permanence in infants.’

‘Oh, how adorable!’ At once, Patton shuffled both him and Virgil to face Logan on the carpet, supporting Virgil in sitting upright. He was eagerly peering over Virgil’s head at Logan. Patton wouldn’t miss this for the world! ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

Logan bridled in his seat a little. ‘I, um… Well, I anticipated that you would want to do it, Patton.’

‘Oh.’ The slump of Patton’s shoulders was probably more noticeable than he would have liked. Was he asking too much of Logan to play a game like that with their baby? The logical side has always been sensitive to looking less than serious. ‘Of course,’ Patton nodded, regretting that his voice sounded strained.

‘Wait, no. I -’ The words stuttered to a halt as Logan closed his eyes and took a deep, likely steadying breath. When his eyes opened again, he looked down at Virgil with a soft, open expression. ‘Shall we play a game, Vee?’

Pride swelled in Patton’s chest.

The weight on his lap shifted as Virgil turned around to look at him. His expression wasn’t too easily read, but Patton knew he was simply seeking affirmation and so he encouraged him. ‘That’ll be fun, won’t it, baby?’

Seemingly satisfied, Virgil turned back to Logan and made a hum of assent.

It would never be spoken aloud, but Patton was quite sure that both he and Logan acknowledged just how awkward the logical side felt in that moment.

With a quiet clearing of his throat, Logan lifted the baby blanket from the floor and held it up in the air in front of him, concealing his face. After a moment, the fabric dropped to his feet to reveal Logan’s face - adorned with a faint blush.

‘Peekaboo,’ he said in an incredibly unfitting monotone.

A wince fought to crumple Patton’s face, but he battled it fiercely. As was to be expected, Virgil did not react much to Logan’s weak exclamation.

‘That did not have the desired effect,’ Logan grumbled, his cheeks a deep shade of pink now.

‘Aw, come on. Maybe you could try again with a bit more, y’know,’ Patton stalled, shrugging his shoulders with a guilty smile, ‘feeling.’

Logan’s eyes darted between Patton’s face, the blanket on the floor, and Virgil. Then he shook his head rapidly and muttered to his lap, ‘This was a silly suggestion. Forgive me.’

Being overcome by a wave of sympathy, Patton offered, ‘Here, why don’t we switch?’

He gripped Virgil tightly and rose from the floor with his baby in his arms. Virgil only had the chance to whine for half a second (he didn’t respond too well to being picked up a lot of the time) before Patton was easing him into Logan’s lap.

‘Uh, Pat - Patton…’ Logan stuttered, going stiff in his seat.

Ignoring the nervous protest, Patton persisted and situated Virgil further back on Logan’s lap so that the regressor leant against Logan’s chest. ‘There we are, sweetheart.’

It was met with a high-pitched whine and one of Virgil’s hands reaching out to him again as he leant forward to chase his papa.

Logan quickly caught Virgil’s shoulders before the boy swayed too far to one side. ‘Are you certain this is all right?’ he asked quite breathlessly. ‘I haven’t held him before, I don’t -’

‘Logan, don’t worry.’ It was almost amusing how wide Logan’s eyes were. Patton sent both of his boys the most comforting smile he had to offer. ‘I’m sure Mommy Logan is plenty capable of holding a baby in his lap.’

Both sides on the couch spoke simultaneously:

‘“Mommy Logan”?’

‘Mama?’

Virgil’s tiny voice filled Patton with such intense awe, he could hardly breathe past the swell of adoration in his chest.

He just smiled and with each hand offered a supportive touch to the two on the couch - a hair stroke for Virgil and a shoulder squeeze for Logan. He directed his next words at Virgil, knowing Logan wouldn’t be able to argue with his baby-talk. ‘Yes, baby. You’ve got a papa already, haven’t you? So now you’ve got a mama too!’

In a somewhat unexpected change of heart, Virgil’s upset at being away from his papa dissipated and he sank back against Logan’s chest quite happily.

Logan’s arms had fallen forward to secure around Virgil much in the same fashion as a seatbelt.

The decision to be so unapologetic and forward about suggesting “Mommy Logan” had been a risky one on Patton’s behalf, though seeing the gentle smile that softened Logan’s face thwarted any lingering doubts he had harboured about it.

‘I suppose that makes sense,’ Logan murmured, absently stroking his thumb over Virgil's shoulder and gazing down at him as if in a trance. ‘I can be Mama Logan.’

Going by Logan’s expression, Patton was sure he recognised the feeling that lay behind it. Patton knew it well; being entranced by the vulnerability and innocence and sweetness of the person who now relied on you to take care of them. It was the feeling of protectiveness. The paternal instinct. It was love.

He did his best not to tear up at seeing it displayed so openly in Logan’s eyes.

‘Okay, baby, are we ready to play?’ His happy tone was only moderately hindered by his tearfulness.

Virgil bounced a little in Logan’s lap (which earned him a surprised chuckle from the logical side) and nodded, squeezing Minty tighter in his hands.

‘Here we go!’ Patton announced, then leaned forward. He covered Virgil’s eyes with the palms of his hands. The confused squeak from Virgil forced Patton to bite his lip to conceal a giggle. After a couple of seconds, he lowered his hands and with a bright smile. ‘Peekaboo!’

There was certainly more of a reaction in comparison to Logan’s monotonous attempt, though it was not exactly the expected one. Where Patton expected to find an excited glimmer in Virgil’s eyes, he only saw confusion and upset.

Undeterred, Patton simply laughed it off. ‘There you are! And now…’ He covered Virgil’s eyes again, slightly concerned at his small whimper. When he lowered his hands and called, ‘Peekaboo!’ again, Virgil outright pouted at him.

‘What’s the matter, baby?’

‘I think he may have sensory issues with you covering his eyes,’ Logan suggested gently.

Patton observed how Virgil had instantly started rubbing at his eyes once Patton’s hands had pulled away from them. ‘Was it a yucky feeling, Vee?’ he asked.

A little nod and whine from the regressor confirmed the suspicion.

‘Aw, honey, I’m sorry,’ Patton cooed, feeling his heart sink with guilt. He had to remind himself to be careful of Virgil’s sensitivities. It was certainly proving to be a learning curve for the touchy-feely father figure.

Logan seemed to have regained some of his usual confidence and spoke without an ounce of hesitation, ‘I suggest you attempt it with his blanket instead.’

Glad for Logan’s to-the-point problem solving, Patton picked the blankie up. The material was unfathomably soft and always calmed Virgil down after he had been subjected to “yucky” textures, so he was sure it would help with their game.

‘All right, let’s try this again. Ready?’ Patton held the blanket taut and dropped it over Virgil’s head. An even louder whimper this time sounded from underneath it and Patton shared a concerned glance with Logan.

‘Papa!’ Virgil called out in panic. His grip on Minty was tight enough that the soft toy bulged between his fingers.

Patton hurriedly lifted the blanket again, ready to exclaim “peekaboo”, but was heartbroken to see Virgil’s eyes glossed over with tears.

Virgil whined as soon as he seemed to notice Patton. He dropped Minty to Logan’s lap so that he could hold his arms out. ‘Papa,’ he whispered, sounding close to tears.

‘Hey, hey, don’t cry, baby,’ Patton soothed, wrapping Virgil in a quick hug (that just so happened to include Logan, seeing as how he was so close behind Virgil). ‘It’s all right, Papa’s here.’

‘This separation anxiety is far more intense than I initially thought.’ Logan sounded troubled. 

It made Patton’s stomach flip. Would Logan want to test it more? Would he say it was bad for Virgil’s mental health? Would he want to separate Patton and Virgil? A sick feeling surged through Patton and he quickly plastered a big grin on his face, pulling back from Virgil despite his baby’s reluctance to let go.

‘No, no, we can do this,’ he assured. ‘Can’t we baby?’

Virgil didn’t seem to know what Patton was asking him, so he only whined and stretched his arms out further towards Patton.

‘It may help if you speak while he is hidden,’ Logan whispered. ‘That way he will still sense your presence.’ He offered a slightly awkward smile. It was beautiful to Patton.

He picked the blanket back up from where he had dropped it to the couch and, as per Logan’s instruction, repeated the game but this time spoke when Virgil was covered by the blanket.

More whines met his ears, though Patton quickly gasped and said, ‘Uh oh, I can’t see little Vee anywhere!’

To his relief (as well as Logan’s, going by the drop of his tense shoulders), Virgil’s whimpering stopped.

‘Papa?’

‘Where’s the baby?’ Patton sang.

A confused coo came from Virgil. It was such an unmistakably babyish sound that the remains of Patton’s concern were overridden by thoughts of My baby is so frickin’ adorable!

Then he snatched the blanket from Virgil’s head with a wide smile. ‘There he is!’

Virgil blinked slowly a couple of times before twisting around to look up at Logan.

The logical side smiled down at him and nodded. ‘You came back,’ he stated simply.

For a moment Patton was unsure of what would happen next. Virgil’s silence could have meant anything from shyness to fear. It could have been followed up by hysterical giggles or heartbreaking sobs.

Instead, Virgil turned back to Patton and mumbled, ‘Bwankie.’

How on Earth Patton had not yet suffered a heart attack from the sheer amount of adorableness coming from his baby, he had no idea.

‘Shall we play with your blankie again?’ Patton asked.

When Virgil nodded, so much pride and happiness filled Patton that it spilt out of him in a joyful giggle.

‘Oh my gosh, okay!’ He bounced on his toes as he lay the blanket over Virgil’s head again. His baby did go slightly rigid upon being left in darkness, but it was quickly remedied: ‘Where’s my little baby?’

Virgil’s body relaxed back into Logan and he shook Mento in his hands with a squeak. With a strong suspicion that his little boy was excited, Patton pulled the blankie away. ‘There he is!’

And it was true! Virgil was smiling behind his paci and flapped Mento in the air in front of him with a giggle. The anxiousness of the previous few minutes had completely disappeared.

‘Logan, he liked it!’ Patton cried, unable to contain how ecstatic he was.

He was a little surprised to catch Logan staring at him with a distant look and a soft smile etched onto his features. With a little start, Logan seemed to catch himself and nodded stiffly.

‘I am glad,’ Logan said and with the hand that wasn’t keeping Virgil secure, he scratched at his cheek. It only drew attention to how rosy it had become. ‘It might be worth keeping it up. Solely for the educational merits, of course,’ he hastened to add.

‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Patton laughed and looked back at his baby. ‘Again?’

Virgil bounced a little in Logan’s lap and his dimples sunk in his cheeks. ‘Gen!’

‘Anything for my little stormcloud.’

Virgil was promptly hidden behind the fluffy material. 

‘Oh dear, where did Virgil go?’

The blanket giggled.

Logan chuckled quietly as Patton winked at him. ‘Where’s my itty bitty baby?’

‘Papa, Papa!’

Patton gasped with an exaggerated surprise, ‘Oh my goodness…’ He swept the blanket off of Virgil's head to be met with a very happy baby with fluffed up hair. ‘There he is!’

The sound that came from Virgil could only have been described as a squeal of delight. His face was glowing with joy and he squished Minty against his face. He tended to do that when he was either shy (which he certainly wasn’t at that moment) or when he was so overwhelmed by emotion that he had to hide and process it for a moment. The fact that he was hiding from intense joy, rather than intense fear as usual, was nothing short of heartwarming to Patton.

‘I love you, honey,’ he whispered and leaned down to press a firm kiss onto the top of Virgil’s head.

‘Um, Patton?’ Logan asked quietly.

With a growing embarrassment, Patton realised he had his hands on Logan’s thighs to steady himself in leaning forward. He quickly retracted his hands. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, no, that wasn’t - you can -’ Logan cut himself off by clearing his throat. His eyes darted up to Patton quite hesitantly before they settled on Virgil. His hold on the regressor visibly tightened. ‘I wondered if perhaps I could try playing again.’

Patton had not, in fact, known true pride until that very moment.

‘Gosh, yes, please, of course,’ Patton rambled, instantly crouching down to be eye-level with Virgil. He had to seize this window of opportunity lest Logan shy away. ‘Let’s move you around, sweetheart.’

With a little help from Logan (and a little blushing as Patton’s hand brushed his), they were able to get Virgil to face Logan whilst in his lap. There was only a slight protest when Virgil reached out to hug Patton but couldn’t because of his position, but it was soon brushed over when Patton sat beside Logan so that Virgil could clearly see him. Perhaps the separation anxiety had not been helped so much by the game, but it was fun nonetheless.

‘We’re gonna play with Mama now,’ Patton announced and smiled when Virgil looked expectantly at Logan.

The logical side faltered a bit, though as Patton nudged him slightly with his shoulder he seemed to come out of it. ‘Are you ready to play, Vee?’

The baby nodded and hugged Minty tightly to his chest.

Logan did as Patton had - covering Virgil over with the blanket and immediately wondering aloud, ‘I appear to have lost Virgil. Wherever could he be?’

To Logan’s credit, the performance was far more expressive than his first attempt. It wasn’t quite as resemblant of a children’s TV presenter as Patton’s coos and gasps were, but it was certainly enough to get Virgil smiling, as was quickly revealed when Logan pulled the blanket back with a joyful, ‘There he is!’

They kept at the game for several more minutes, none of them getting bored of the repetition.

It was quite difficult to be bored by Virgil’s squeaky giggles, Patton found. Especially when they were supplemented by Logan’s soothing voice and a grin brighter than Patton knew the logical side would have ever dared to display in any other situation.

By the last round, Virgil was getting sleepy; his laughter was interrupted by quiet yawns (which sent Patton’s heart racing as he questioned how a human being could so closely resemble a kitten).

‘Last one, Stormcloud,’ Patton chuckled as Logan covered the boy with the blanket once more. ‘Then it’s naptime.’

‘Where’s Virgil?’ Logan called. ‘Where’s the baby?’

Virgil’s giggles were quiet, and it was noticeable how he was swaying a lot more now, being too tired to support himself. It was a good thing that Logan refused to release him from his careful hold.

Patton had shuffled further toward the other two as the game went on and now he was fully leaning up against Logan’s side. When they both looked at each other with bright smiles, Patton actually dared to wonder whether Logan’s cheeks really were just flushed from all the laughter, or if maybe Patton wasn’t alone in feeling a spark where their arms touched.

‘Together?’ Logan suggested.

Patton was sure his smile was completely goofy by this point, but he hardly cared.

‘Three…’

Logan smiled. ‘Two…’

‘One…’ Patton pulled the blanket from Virgil’s head.

‘Peekaboo!’ the caregivers said in unison, their happy, sing-song tones identical.

oOo

AO3 link

Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡

#thank you so so so much for sending this little headcanon #as you can see i really liked it!! #little/big asides #little/big series fics #little/big series #agere virgil #little virgil #cg logan #cg patton #requests #💚 anon

[hollyxqx]

SHE’S THE ONE  //  SHOWNU

↪ PAIRING: Reader / Shownu  ↪ GENRE:  smut > fluff > f2l  ↪ WORD COUNT: 7.3k ↪ SUMMARY: Hyunwoo has worked for your family for almost a year now, maintaining the gardens and pool. He’s not as rich as you are, he’s working class and he knows it but it doesn’t stop either of you striking up an unlikely relationship. [inspired by this song]

↪ WARNINGS: lots of smut, dirty talk, rough sex but nothing crazy bc shownu is a sweetheart, total self indulgent filth everyone 

a/n: the idea of gardener!shownu came from this story. I just wanted to give the author some credit for inspiring me, so you should read that story if the idea appealed as much to you as me. other than the fact that shownu is a gardener for a rich OC the stories are nothing alike, fyi.  this was meant to be A LOT shorter but i couldn’t help myself, srry.

ALL ABOUT LUV SERIES

Hyunwoo can feel your eyes on him as he paints the new patio furniture, outside in the glaring hot summer sun. It's touching on thirty degrees Celsius and he can feel beads of sweat trickling from his nape, running down the back of his white vest as he works. He's thankful he remembered his cap today, not only does it shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun but it enables him to sneak an occasional glance at you.

The day you first met he remembers thinking two things. One; oh my god, she's pretty and two; I can't do anything about it. You were the bosses daughter and he needed this job. Unlike you Hyunwoo was not born into a life of wealth and luxury. His hands were his means to a living, not shy to hard work.

He didn't know what your father did exactly to earn the estate, from the other staff he'd heard the title but it was so long and self-important Hyunwoo failed to remember it. Some kind of marketing, analytical something or other. You didn't have to be a humble labourer to know that meant money.

The mother didn't work. She didn't need to. Hyunwoo only ever saw her shopping, having brunch, shopping some more and doing yoga with someone he highly doubted was just her yoga instructor, unless yoga meant fondling the tan 23 year old instructor three times a week. The whole world was so alien and unfamiliar to him, he almost felt like a spectator at times.

You, however. You were different. That fact was deduced very quickly. After only a few weeks of getting to know you it became apparent that you weren't like the rest of your family. If he didn't know any better he sensed some resentment on your part even though the you never explicitly said the words out loud.

It was in what was unspoken that clued him in - the disdainful sighs when your mother had a cocktail at 10am, the way you went quiet whenever your father was mentioned, the fact that you helped out the staff when you didn't have to. Many a time he saw you washing dishes with the maid. Only when your parents weren't around though, he knew they would scold you if they caught you in the act.

So, he didn't mind the fact that you were staring. You were a hot girl, who appeared nice enough, and who found him attractive, what wouldn't he like about that? Hyunwoo hadn't had a girlfriend in nearly two years, much of his time spent working to afford college, so the attention you sent his way felt nice. Even if he couldn't act upon it, he could enjoy it.

"Um, Hyunwoo?" Your voice draws his focus from his work and he squints up at you in the sunlight. You're wearing that navy blue bikini he's seen plenty of times before and denim shorts. An image he knows will be swirling in his thoughts for the rest of the day, whether he wants it to or not. "Would you like some lunch?"

He's overdue a break anyway, and frankly any excuse to get away from the midday sun before his skin starts to burn is good enough for him. "Sure." He accepts, carefully putting his tools away. He sets them in the shade, wiping at his sweaty forehead with the t-shirt he removed earlier.

"Come eat inside, there's aircon." You inform him and he follows you indoors. Inside the kitchen he's surprised to find a somewhat elaborate spread of fruit, sandwiches and salad atop the island that sits in the middle of the room. He immediately goes to the sink to wash up as you get some plates.

"Ana outdid herself. It looks great." He mumbles as he dries his hands. Ana was the head housekeeper, worked there the longest and she was well known as the best cook in the home.

"Oh, I did this." You blush adorably and he pauses for a second. "I thought you might be hungry. I know I am."

"You made all this for me?" He asks, a little dumbfounded. He can't quite believe you'd go to all this trouble for the gardener. It only further cemented your nice nature for him.

"Yeah." You reply shyly, smiling as you pour both of you some icy water. "I enjoy cooking. Especially for others."

Hyunwoo can't help but watch you for a moment as you load your plate up with food, biting back a smile when you take his plate and do the same. "Thank you." He says gently as he takes the food from you. You share a look and he swears his heart stills for a moment.

***

It doesn't take long until eating together becomes a routine. You're home from college for the summer, you tell him one Friday lunchtime, this time over some of the best steak he's ever eaten. From what he can gather you adore the college you attend, your entire face lights up animatedly when you speak about it. Part of him suspects it's because you're away from the clutches of your family.

"I really want to get a job this summer, maybe even volunteer." You tell him as you sit opposite the kitchen island once more. "The parents aren't so thrilled about that. My mom wants me to go to Europe with her. Dad is obviously working."

"Europe sounds incredible." He offers.

"I've been before." You sigh. Hyunwoo can't help but find it bizarre that you're so unenthusiastic about a potential overseas trip. He's never even been abroad. "The rest of my class are working or interning. I wish I could too."

He knows it's ridiculous to feel sorry for the poor little rich girl who has literally everything but he can't help it. He might not be wealthy but he knows all too well what it's like to feel like an outsider and wanting nothing more than to just be like everyone else. Albeit for different reasons. You were sweet, his empathy felt deserved.

"You should do it." He tells you sincerely. "Your parents can't exactly kidnap you and take you to Europe can they?"

"You'd be surprised." You laugh, drly. "Who knows what they're capable of."

He doesn't know how to respond, so he's silent as you finish you meal. As nice as it would be to have more money than sense, at least he has freedom.

***

The first time you kiss is at the end of the summer.

Hyunwoo doesn't anticipate it happening and is unprepared. It wasn't the best kiss he's ever had given it's surprising nature, your teeth briefly clacked, but it was nice nonetheless. The sun is setting when you corner him around the back of the pool house, hidden from view. You ask him some question about him minding if you go for a late night swim (he never has and you've never needed his permission) - he knows it is an excuse.

There's a moment of hesitation, a sweet thank you falls from your lips and before he knows it your mouths are connected. Body curled in to him, tongue in his mouth he can't help but kiss back. You walk away before he can barely register what's happened.

***

Autumn is creeping it's way on to the landscape when the second kiss happens.

It's almost as if you've forgotten the first one, since you've never brought it up. Hyunwoo doesn't either, mostly assuming it was just a momentary impulse moment, mostly not wanting to make anything awkward with you. He's still enjoying the lunches you're preparing for him and doesn't want them to stop.

The working day is coming to a close for him. He's a lot sweaty and a little dirty when your paths cross. Your voice startles him as he's winding up the garden hose. "Hi Hyunwoo."

"Hi." His hands continue on autopilot until the work is done.

"I'm going back to school tomorrow." He knew that, gossip among the staff, but he stays silent, nodding as if it's brand new information. "I just wanted to say bye. Until next summer I guess."

"Bye." He says softly, earning him a tiny laugh from you. "I know you will be happier there than here."

"I'll miss those lunches though."

He's surprised and hope it doesn't read too blatantly. "Me too. I'm going to have to go back to eating turkey sandwhiches or ramyeon. Alone."

"Are you working here during the winter?" You ask.

"Yeah, just less frequently. Once every two weeks." He's got another job as a waiter in a slightly posher-than-he's-used-to restaurant but he doesn't tell you that. You probably won't care too much about him when you're not here.

"Maybe I'll see you at Christmas break." You hum. He offers a polite agreement. "You weren't...mad that I kissed you?"

That he didn't expect, as far as he was concerned you had swept that off the table. "No, I wasn't. I liked it."

"I liked it too."

The air changes and he somehow just senses it, just feels it in his bones what's going to happen next. You're so close to him, licking your lips like that and he doesn't miss how your eyes flit to his own mouth. This time Hyunwoo closes the ga with the wave of confidence that surges.

This kiss is much better than the first one, an air of desperation of it being the last time hangs thickly. Momentarily forgetting he's just worked a hard day of manual labour and isn't necessarily the cleanest he pulls your body against his anyway. One hand on your waist, the other grasping you between your shoulder blades.

You're the one to deepen the kiss and he swears he hears the tiniest moan over the thrumming in his ears. A hand slides down his muscular chest and fists his shirt. "Hyunwoo." You say breathlessly. It's not a question because your lips are back on his again.

His knees hit the back of a sun lounger, unsure of who was pulling and pushing who. He sits down and tugs you on to him, a knee on either side resting comfortably on his lap. This is not a good idea, he knows it but that part of his brain that's rational is loosing blood supply when you grind your hips against his. He's growing hard and it would be embarrassingly quickly if you weren't whimpering atop of him, loosing yourself in the moment too.

You shouldn't have sex. Out in the open like this. You shouldn't have sex at all, he works for you. Hyunwoo is trying to wrack his brains to remember who is home and who's not. The thought evaporates when you bite his bottom lip and tug at the nape of his hair. "You're so fucking hot Hyunwoo."

He's never heard you swear before, always assumed you weren't into such dirty language. His brain instantly ignites at the idea of you saying the dirtiest things he could imagine to him. It's something he's definitely thought about prior. He groans.

"So are you." He gets out in between kisses. Instinctively his hand is sliding up your cold thighs, the dress you're wearing not entirely weather appropriate for the cooling summer air. He grips your ass with a squeeze.

"I've wanted to kiss you so badly since the day we met." You admit through a breathy laugh. Even in the diminishing light he notices your cheeks flush a little. He's a little lost for words at the moment otherwise he'd tell you that he's felt the exact same way.

"Yeah?" Is all he manages to get out in an exhale.

"Mmhmm," You nod, raking your hands all over his chest. "And so much more."

Before he can respond you're kissing again. He wants to know what more means and he wants to know so badly it's making his cock ache. He needs it, so he shifts you on to your back, skirt rising up and exposing your panties. Even the sight of that is something he never thought he'd see in his wildest dreams. You were so untouchable just weeks ago and know you were underneath him at his mercy.

"I'd do anything you want me to." He murmurs in your ear, a knee separating your thighs for him as he hovers over you. "You're so pretty."

"What if I wanted you to touch me?" You ask.

"I am touching you." He can't help but smirk.

"Touch me like this."

You take his hand and run it over your clothed centre where he grazes a knuckle over your folds. At the contact the material presses into your wetness and he can't believe he did that. You're wet. For him. He rubs his hand up and down a few times and the noise that you elicit is sinful.

He looks up at you for approval as he slides your underwear slowly down your thighs. Your finally bare for him and he can't help it, too lost in the moment, he places a kiss on your mound, tongue sneaking between your lower lips for a second. It makes you gasp.

"God, like this - " He hangs his head for a second between your thighs, overwhelmed. "Like this you're perfect. Even if you told me to stop now the sight of you like this is, fuck, a wet dream." His cheek nuzzles your inner thigh where he places another wet kiss.

"Would this make it better?" You tease, nimble fingers unbuttoning your dress so your tits are exposed. His mouth hangs open as he nods, unable to eloquently articulate how fucking good you look and how hard he's trying to commit this to memory.

Nothing is said but he knows what to do, sitting up a little and kissing your breasts. He begins to stroke between your legs as he devours your tits. "Is this the right spot? Show me." He whispers against your skin.

"Do it like this," You guide his hand to the exact right place you want to be touched, moaning when he reaches it. "Fuck, Hyunwoo, just like that." You whine.

He can feel his dick leaking at that. Not only did you swear, you whined his name. He sucks on your nipple as your hips begin to work in tandem with his hands. "You want my fingers in you too? Hmm?" He asks.

"Yes, yeah - oh fuck - yes."

You're wet enough that he slides two in right away. He can only imagine in his mind how lewd this scene must look from an outsiders perspective, hand buried in your pussy. Starting off slow to gauge your reaction he sets what he hopes is the perfect pace, examining every detail on your beautiful face as your eyes flutter shut. You're chewing on your bottom lip, arching your back and falling apart in just the right way.

It's so much, touching you like this. "Yeah?" He manages to husk.

He's rewarded with a loud moan and a roll of your hips in time with his fingers. "Would you - ahh, would you fuck me if I asked?" You pant.

He didn't expect the question, and ruts his hips against your leg involuntarily with a groan into your skin. "Ugh, yeah. Yeah, I would."

"Here?"

"Here?" He repeats in surprise, pulling back to see if you really mean it. He wonders if you maybe have a thing for getting caught, or maybe even watched. God. "Really? You really want that?"

"Or we could fuck in the pool house. It's up to you." You laugh, biting your tongue with a grin. His hand hasn't stopped moving this entire time, even if he has slowed down. The thought of fucking you out here is hot but he can't risk it. What if someone caught him? That's his income gone.

"Take me to the poolhouse." He kisses you, discreetly wiping your wetness off on his denim thigh. It's hard to stop when he wants to see you cum so desperately. You grin and don't even bother to fix your half open dress before taking him by the hand. Both of you stumble excitedly across the garden, him pressed up against your back. He can't stop his hands roaming your body.

The poolhouse is nicer than any house Hyunwoo has ever lived in. What else did he expect. You know the way so he lets you lead him to the bedroom. You don't even bother with the light, tumbling onto the plush mattress, tangling together the instant you're able.

You yank off his shirt. "I'm a little sweaty." He laughs once he's topless.

"I don't care. Is it weird that I kind of like it?"

"Probably." He kisses you again while he removes your dress entirely. "I kind of get the feeling you're into lots of weird things."

"Define weird." You breathe, kicking off the remnants of your panties. His denim and boxers follow.

"Kinky."

"One person's kinky is another's boring Tuesday night."

"I can't wait to find out." He really can't. You're naked beneath him now and he's half expecting this to be a dream. He hovers over you and loves the way you shudder when his bare cock brushes against your thigh. You whine and reach for it with both hands, giving him a few lazy strokes. If your hands are this warm and soft he can't even imagine how good your cunt is going to feel.

He fucks into your fist a few times because it feels so good. "I fucking need you inside me, Hyunwoo. Please put your cock in me. Stretch me open and make me cry because it feels so good."

Shit, he loves your dirty mouth.

The blunt head of his cock drags through your wet pussy a few times to make the glide of him entering just that bit better. He presses in slowly, watching with wide eyes as your cunt swallows him whole. You keen as you fist the sheets. Then he's buried to the hilt and has to still for a few moments, or risk cumming quickly and embarrassing himself.

Before he beings thrusting he pushes both your legs a little wider apart. "Please." You beg and he listens, rocking his hips to meet yours. "Yes, oh - fuck yes." You breathe as he moves.

"I want you to cum." He husks into your ear. "How can I make you cum around my cock huh?"

"Touch my clit and don't stop moving like this."

He leans a little heavier on one arm so he can access your swollen clit with his right hand. Remembering what you told him earlier he gets to work. There's not much more said as he fucks you, mainly just breathy gasps and groans escaping both of you.

He loves that you tell him when you're about to cum. He's been with girls before who never said anything and he always found it hot when they did. He cums shortly after you, pulling out and shooting his load on your stomach.

The way you look, plump bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed and covered in the evidence of his orgasm, well. He doesn't think he's ever seen anything sexier.

***

He's done it before. Fucked girls and had no further contact with them again. But it feels weird with you because he works for you. Has to talk to the people in your life frequently but has no idea about you. Phone numbers were not exactly exchanged and he's not really interested in social media. It complicates things, and he prefers simple.

The worst part about it is he can't even ask about you. It's odd if he shows too much interest in you. None of the household were particularly aware that a minor friendship even existed between you at one time.

Hyunwoo's not sure if he wants to know. He assumes you're happy and that's really all he can logically come up with. You'd never discussed anything extremely personal  with him over your little lunch dates and he'd never pressed you on it. He wonders if you'll have a boyfriend by Christmas time when you're home again.

He hopes not.

***

He starts night classes late September now that he can afford to. His scrimping and saving allowing him to fund the  business management course he takes. It's not much and it's not exactly a degree from some prestigious university but he learns a lot and best of all, he can continue working during the day.

After all, he has rent and bills to pay. Hyunwoo wants to run his own business one day and even if it takes years he's determined it will be worth it. His parents own a small cafe but neither of them went to college of any sort and they struggle often. His plan is to do it smart. Maybe even franchise his parents business.

By November he's promoted to host at the restaurant. It's fantastic for him because he earns enough now that money isn't on his mind constantly. When he's in the supermarket he doesn't have to carefully calculate as he shops. The items simply get tossed in the basket it without a thought and it feels good.

Life is good; steady. Sometimes he catches himself singing to himself as he works in the garden of your house like he's in a freaking disney movie.

He meets a girl at college whom he gets on well with. She's nice, quite pretty and they go on a few dates. They end up having sex in his car after the third one and it's okay, not great. He finds himself thinking about you after he's dropped her off, wondering if you're doing the same thing. Maybe you were, that's what university life was all about, he supposed. Experimenting, having fun, finding yourself.

Suddenly he feels very insignificant. Did you ever think of him? That night you spent together you'd confessed you had, but there were months and thousands of miles of distance between you now. You were the beautiful, upper class rich girl and he worked two jobs whilst going to a community college.

Of course you weren't thinking of him.

***

Hyunwoo's last day of work before Christmas lands him at your house. He'd overheard from Ana that you were arriving very early the next morning, which meant he wouldn't be there when you were, and not knowing when you returned to school caused a slight air of disappoint to settle around him as he worked.

The weather restricts what he's capable of, so it's a few weeks longer than usual before he can return and he works a little later into the evening than normal. By the time he finishes the sun has set and the cold air is nipping at his cheeks, turning them pink.

He tidies his gardening equipment and heads inside to tell Ana he's leaving. She wishes him Merry Christmas and pulls him into a hug that colours his cheeks even more. "Oh! Hyunwoo?" She asks as he's at the door, ready to go home. He turns expectantly. "Can you leave me your phone number? I'm unsure what date Mr Kim wants you back in the new year." She smiles.

"Oh," says Hyunwoo dumbly. "Don't you have it already? I'm sure I gave it to you when I first started."

"This is embarrassing," Ana laughs. "My son bought me a phone. I can't use it for the life of me and I accidentally deleted everything a few days ago. I don't even know how I did it! I'm too old for modern technology, I think."

Hyunwoo smiles warmly at her. It's exactly the kind of thing his own mother would do and he feels a rush of affection. "Of course I can leave you it. If you need any help with your phone, I can do that too. I'm a pro at it."

He scribbles the digits on the post-its next to the phone and goes home for the night.

***

The text is sent on New Years Eve (technically New Years Day) but Hyunwoo only reads it when he wakes at 2pm, nursing a rather brutal hangover. He'd celebrated perhaps a little too hard with Minhyuk and the boys and barely even remembers going to bed. He rubs his tired eyes and re-reads the message several times.

from : unknown number happy new year hyunwoo!!! Hope your xmas was goood - y/n

from : unknown number ps - stole your num from ana I asked where you were and sshe said i missed y5tou

He chuckles at the typos, assuming there must have been some alcohol involved with the sending of these messages. Hyunwoo of course replies.

from : hyunwoo happy new year too lady hows xmas break?

from : y/n good boring cant wait to go back to school Im nursing a hangover from heeeellllll

from : hyunwoo haha i gifrued figured* me too tbh, i'll be hiding from the world today

He spends the rest of the day lazing in bed and occasionally swapping texts with you. The conversation is light, like acquaintances catching up, which is what he supposes you are. He can't deny that it's nice to hear from you. It's even nicer that you think of him when you're drunk. Drunk thoughts speak that of a sober mind.

He wants to see you but unfortunately doesn't get to. You're back at school by the time he has returned to work.

***

The girl from college is persistent, he'll give her that. There's nothing wrong with Kia, other than the fact that she's a little too eager than what Hyunwoo is usually used to but he accepts it regardless. Somehow he finds himself sleeping with her on a regular basis. It's a little selfish of him which he knows. But lately he's been feeling lonely, overworked, and she gives him all the attention he could ever ask for with very little effort on his part.

The sex improves since the first time so it becomes a thing. He tries not to look too deeply into it. By March they've been hooking up for well over a month.

He doesn't tell her about you. Not that that he's trying to hide anything per say; he just doesn't feel it's necessary. Especially because the conversations that he shares with you are far more interesting, now that he texts with you semi-frequently. Kia doesn't need to know about every single friend of his, he rationalizes.

Although he makes a distinct effort not to text you when he's with her.

You make him laugh. Like, really laugh. So much so that you rival Minhyuk's spot in his life. When you're away from your family you're a different person. Still you, but the version of you that's a little brighter, a little happier, and much more unrestrained than you are at home.

Even captured in the selfies you send you radiate more. He doesn't tell you (or anyone for that matter, he'd rather be caught dead) but he's been saving every image.

You tell him about your life in greater detail. He finds out that you spent Christmas with Ana and her family, since your father worked and your mom seeks warmer weather at that time of the year. It makes his heart ache slightly, he always has a wonderful day with his parents and a life without that seems a little sad. He's happy you have at least some family in Ana.

Hyunwoo cares. His thoughts drift to you often these days, more notably when he's working at your house. He can't even look at the poolhouse or the sun loungers without having flashbacks of you on your back for him. God, he wants to do it again. The need grows more and more the longer you talk.

When you phone him one night late night, practically purring the words, "I've been thinking about how we almost fucked in the garden." He knows it's over for him. He listens to you make yourself cum over the phone there and then and promises you, he'll have your body again as soon as he's able.

***

The next time you see each other in person it's April. Seven whole months since you'd fucked. He's finishing work when you appear, almost coyly hovering around the back entrance of the main house. He suspects you've waited for him. Hyunwoo grins reflexively when your eyes meet.

"Hey, you." You smile widely, tucking hair behind your ear.

"Hey lady."

Both silent for a few moments, simply taking each other in. Obviously he's seen pictures of you but the real thing is so much better. Your hair is longer, darker and your makeup is different but he still thinks you look gorgeous. A wave of confidence takes Hyunwoo.

"Want to hang out?" He asks before any inane small talk can ruin the moment. He knows how you are, you spoke this morning. You nod excitedly.

"I was hoping you'd ask." You tell him.

He's not ashamed of the car he drives, but he is when he knows you'll be in it. He's seen what occupies the twelve car garage. The kind of cars he would dream about as a young boy, and the worst part about all of it is they rarely get driven. To him that's the definition of insanity.

The back passenger window doesn't work on the old jeep and the leather is ripped on the drivers headrest but Hyunwoo takes care of it, so it drives fine. It gets him where he needs to go, so he's unbothered by the appearance. In a perfect world he'd drive you in something flashy.

You say nothing about the lack of extravagance, you hop inside with a beautiful smile. He likes that about you.

The plan is to go for dinner but somehow you never make it, ending up at Hyunwoo's modest apartment. It's a simple one bed with a tiny kitchenette. It's not much but he's worked hard to keep it.

"This reminds me of my dorm!" You laugh when you're inside. He incorrectly makes the assumption that you're insulting it but you reassure him. "It feels more like home than my parents house." You say gingerly with a touch to his arm.

His response is to kiss you and hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. From the many phone sex sessions that have transpired between you, he's learned alot about what you like in the bedroom. He spanks your ass check with a slap, hard enough to sting. You audibly hiss.

You're in a dress again and he thinks it's intention was purposeful so he could have faster access to your most intimate parts. In no time at all you're pinned on his bed, both hands above your head held there by his own larger palm. The other is pushing your panties to the side, giving access to his bare dick.

Fuck me fuck fuck me, you chant, and he does. You look like such a mess for him, dress pushed up, hair fanned out across the pillow.  You guide his hand around your throat, forcing him to choke you. He almost cums when your gasping breath tells him to spit in your mouth.

When you touch your clit and cum he does as well. He couldn't hold off even if he tried.

He kisses you softly, in stark contrast to how rough you had just encouraged him to be; then you whisper, "I missed you."

***

He spends two complete days in bed with you. Kia calls him several times but he never picks up. You give him a curious glance when he turns the phone face down each time, yet you say nothing.

The only time you leave his apartment is to get food. Hyunwoo holds your hand in the supermarket without thinking about it, he just wanted to touch you. You pay for the entire shopping and he wishes you didn't but he supposes you don't think about these things in the same manner as he does.

When you leave (and it's only because he's working at the restaurant and had no choice but to part ways) he drives you home and watches the entire way as you walk up the drive, wishing he could have you back already, hoping there's not some college boy miles away thinking the same thing.

***

It's only five days later when he's scheduled back to work for your family. He's more than a little distracted after seeing you through the kitchen window. A small, discrete wave from you to acknowledge his presence. He knows there's not much time left before you're due back at school for the last term before summer.

The familiar tradition of lunching together is shared outside today. Pleasant sunshine basks down on you and Hyunwoo can't stop looking at you even as he eats the food you've prepared. "What?" You ask with a shy laugh. "Is there something on my face?"

"I just like looking at ya." He laughs and your cheeks tinge adorably. How can you be so cute yet so dirty? It's like he has the best of both worlds with you at times. The contrast drives him wild at times.

"Can we spend some more time together before I go back to school?" You ask him. For a moment he can't focus because you're eating a strawberry and all he can think about is his dick in your mouth. "Hyunwoo?"

"Yeah, course." He responds, blinking a few times. "Come over tonight?"

He wonders what the household think when you leave together at the end of the day. Surely they would not approve of this? A sad thought enters his mind; it's possible your family are too self absorbed to notice, let alone care. Ana however gives the two of you a friendly knowing smirk when you share your goodbyes.

Hyunwoo ends up making a stopover at the beach, a change of heart hitting him as he drove in the setting sunlight. There's a certain spot he started visiting when he first moved out and was overwhelmed by the stress and cost of being an adult in this world. He's never taken anyone there but he thinks (hopes) you'll like it as much as he does.

"We're at the beach." It's not so much of a question as a statement and you give him a confused look.

"Come on." Is the only instruction he gives you, clambering out of the jeep.

The ten minute walk from the car to very end of the beach is passed in comfortable silence. There's a bit of climbing involved up some rocks and a slightly steep sandy slope. Hyunwoo goes first so he can assist you up too. This secluded part of the beach is peaceful and he's watched many a sunset here.

You join him in the sand when he sits, resting your head on his shoulder. "Why did you bring me here?"

"It's one of my favourite places and I wanted to share it with you." He doesn't need to explain any further. You nod.

"Thank you."

He watches the sunset with his arm around your shoulders. When it's almost dark Hyunwoo leads you back to his jeep. You have sex on the backseat. It's different this time, tender and sweet, touching each other as if you're both virgins cautiously but eagerly mapping each other's bodies. All he thinks about on the journey to his place is how much he likes you.

***

When you're thousands of miles apart the distance somehow feels greater this time. During the day you cross his mind often but it's worse at night, when he's alone in bed, craving the warmth of you body next to his. Sometimes he looks, then re-looks at the selfies you've sent.

He hasn't kept track of when he last spoke with Kia. It's only when she sends him a particularly bitchy message does he remember that he's unintentionally being ignoring her for as long as he has. When he sends her an apology, citing work and family as an excuse she asks to see him.

He's in two minds about it. One, he's lonely, horny and missing you. However the topic of being exclusive never came up, not that it should. It's new territory. For all he knows some frat boy has you wrapped around him right now. The thought makes him prickle with jealousy.

So he accepts Kia's invitation.

***

"What are you grinning at?"

Hyunwoo looks up, trying to hide his smile when Minhyuk speaks. "Nothing." He lies. He's texting you and you just told him how you accidentally waved at someone who wasn't waving to you and now you're moving country and changing your identity before you die of embarrassment. Another thing he likes about you; you're not afraid to laugh at yourself.

"That means it's a girl!" Minhyuk teases with a laugh. "The chick from college?"

"Uh, no." Hyunwoo replies, avoiding his friends gaze. "Someone else."

"Oh." Minhyuk is surprised. "Who?"

"You know the people I sometimes do gardening and shit for? The daughter."

"Oh shit," His friend laughs. "Risky."

Hyunwoo agrees, adding. "We haven't really tried to hide anything. I don't think her family notice much. It's kinda sad."

"How can you be sad with all that money?" Minhyuk scoffs. Like Hyunwoo he comes from a family that had little to none of not just money, nearly everything. He doesn't work two jobs like Hyunwoo but he works even longer hours to sustain himself. "Crying in a ferrari. Boo hoo."

"She's not like that. Her family sure, but not her."

Minhyuk can tell he likes you. "She's special." He doesn't ask, he just knows Hyunwoo so well that he doesn't need it confirmed by the older male.

"Yeah. She is."

***

He hasn't heard from you in over a week which is highly unusual since you've been messaging or calling each other daily. It's making him a little restless but he reassures his anxious mind by reminding himself you're almost finishing school and you're probably just busy. Kia is a distraction right now, nothing more.

His phone rings while Kia is in his shower. She's going to want to stay the night but he really isn't that interested, right now he wants to be alone. Normally he doesn't speak to you when he's with her, but this will be his first chance in a long time so he takes the call.

"Hi lady, it's been a while." He answers.

"I know," You groan. "Finals. I had to turn my phone off because it was distracting me. I had a meltdown this week."

His first thought is relief. The second; he wishes he could have been there for you.

"I'm sorry," He means it. "How are things now?"

"One more exam then I'm done. No future break downs planned." You announce and he can hear you smile.

"Good."

"What are you doing right now?" You ask. He hears the shower shut off and Kia step out.

"Nothing." Technically it's the truth. "I missed you." He adds lowly.

"Me too, Hyunwoo. Is it weird that you're one of my closest friends?"

"You're one of mine." He says confidently.

"I wish you were here."

Kia re-enters his bedroom in a towel, giving him a quiet smile when she see's him resting against the headboard in the middle of a call. Hyunwoo swallows thickly. "Me too."

"I want to see you, can we face time?"

He knows what that means. More often than not your video calls to each to one another ends in a very explicit manner. He looks at Kia who is redressing. God, he wishes he could say yes.

"I..can't right now, I've got company." He adds lamely because he doesn't want to lie to you.

"Oh." The disappointment in your voice is prevalent. "Ok. Maybe another time."

"Yeah." He wants to say more, so much more, but he knows Kia is listening and doesn't feel like an argument.

"It's okay if you're dating y'know." You add, to his surprise. "I didn't exactly think you were some celibate monk every time we were apart."

He laughs at that. "I assumed you weren't either."

"I wasn't." The past tense confuses him. "Been too busy for that lately."

"I bet."

"No one fucks me like you do though," You laugh and he can't help but smirk. "Anyway, I'll let you go. I've got some stress to relieve anyway." He doesn't miss the innuendo. "And Hyunwoo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll be thinking of you when I do it."

Fuck. He hold back a groan. Now that the image is in his head it's the only thing he wants to see. He gulps. "I always do."

When you've hung up he tells Kia in the kindest possible way he's tired and it's best if she goes home. He senses her unhappiness and he feels a little guilty but not for long.

***

The day you arrive home for the summer Hyunwoo realises it's been ten months of fucking, phone sex and talking about nothing and everything til 2am with you. He's not working today and offers to pick you up from the airport. He knows you could easily have someone on your father's payroll fetch you but you agree nonetheless.

At baggage claim you don't even greet him, flinging yourself into his arms instead. There's a kiss that's all too passionate for such a public space but neither of you seem phased. It's clear that you're just as eager as he is.

You smile at him when he carries your bags for you, loading them into his trusted jeep.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask as he drives. He nods. "I haven't told my parents but I've been working while I've been at school."

You hadn't told him that either. As far as he knew you wouldn't really have to work ever if you felt so inclined.

"I've saved everything. Every single penny I've earned."

"How come?" He's never discussed money with you and he feels awkward.

"Because I don't want to spend my life relying on them." You say simply. "After I finish school next year I'll be free."

Free, he thinks. He notices how ignored you are at home and how unhappy you are there. If you want to be free, Hyunwoo wants you to be free too.

***

You spend more nights with him over the summer than you do without. He doesn't tell you but he broke things off with Kia a long time ago. It's you, and it's been you for a long time. At the beach you tease him and ask him if the other girls like this spot as much as you do.

"I've never brought anyone but you here." He admits.

"Oh." You look surprised. "I thought..."

"Nah," He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. But it means something. You both know it. He laces his fingers through yours. "Just you."

Over the summer a few freckles have appeared on your shoulders as the two of you have spent a lot of time in the sun and he kisses them while he's got you in his arms. You sigh in content and lean back against his chest. He wants to tell you he loves you, has done for quite some time but doesn't want to force it.

You're the one. Not in the conventional sense where he's blindly assured that you're definitely going to get married and grow into old age together. No. How can anyone know that for sure?

You're the one in the sense that you make him happy to wake up each day. It's effortless and it's easy and you've never once held any of his choices against him. He'd do anything for you before any other girl. That's why you're his one. He just needs to tell you now.

MASTERLIST

#all about luv series #all about love: shownu #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #shownu fanfiction #shownu fanfic #shownu ff #monsta x fanfics #shownu fluff #shownu smut #monsta x smut

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.2 | Brittana

Okay so I’m breaking routine here by posting another chapter so soon but I’m just blown away by the response so far and I got excited. LIKE WOAH, I really thought I wasn’t going to reach many people with this bc like...sports. Guess we all just really love Brittana, huh?

Also, 9-0 baby! 😘

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) 

No one is more surprised by the discovery of the Titans’ new quarterback than Santana. Actually, surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. Santana’s flat out dumbfounded by the news.

Is it the fact that they’ve never had a female Titan, let alone a female QB? Is it the fact that she’s actually really good? Is it the fact that it’s Brittany?

Santana’s at a loss.

The blonde just didn’t strike her as the type to play such a rough sport. She’s like this walking ray of sunshine that irks Santana to no end and she’s only had to deal with her for like a week! No one would’ve ever guessed that Brittany was the one to lead the Titans to their first win but maybe that’s because there’s apparently this side of her that Santana just hadn’t seen yet?

Judging by the way Brittany dominated on the field, Santana had her all wrong.

Santana spends her entire weekend trying to stay on top of her tan before the Autumn chill sets in, but in between sips of cold sweet tea and scrolling through her social media feeds there’s Brittany. Again, she doesn’t know why the quarterback keeps disrupting her thoughts, but it seems like she can’t outrun the girl.

At the moment, Brittany’s everywhere Santana looks! Mainly on social media; one minute Santana’s liking a picture Quinn posted of them before the game on Friday and the next she’s being bombarded by shots of Brittany posing with her teammates. Mike and Sam basically make the same exact post with the whole New Year New QB, but what surprises her is that even Puck is on her feed doing the same thing!

To think that the guys would even allow having a female quarterback is beyond her, because the last time she checked they were all a bunch of sexist pigs. Then again, maybe Coach Beiste has finally taught them all a thing or two about respecting women enough to be okay with playing alongside them?

Santana has no idea.

It’s just crazy how this girl seems to have popped up out of nowhere and now Santana can’t get away even when she’s not at school. The weekends are sacred to her, it’s her time to relax and reset before having to deal with all the McKinley High imbeciles but seeing so much of Brittany has her thoughts running nonstop.

What’s worse is that Santana can’t describe why she’s so annoyed by it all!

\\

It isn’t until Monday rolls around that things finally start to come to a head.

The Titans’ recent win still seems to be the only thing anyone at McKinley wants to talk about, but Santana manages to evade all those conversations. She doesn’t know anything about the game other than the Titans have sucked for most of her high school career but she’s still obligated to cheer for them.

It’s a small price to pay when you’re a real winner. The Cheerios have way more titles and that’s really the only thing Santana cares about.

It’s all apart of her master plan to get the hell out of Lima once she graduates. With several National Championship wins under her belt, along with being Co-Captain since Sophomore year, Santana’s hoping it’ll help to expand her university options.

Although, she knows her future is practically mapped out for her – deep down she still has hope for a miracle. Until then, she just wants to make sure she’s well-prepared for anything which means retaining her position on the squad and making good grades.  

\\

Santana goes through the motions of the school day as usual, and as usual she fights the inescapable feeling of giddiness as she makes her way towards her final class of the day. She doesn’t actually mind the class – Miss Holliday is secretly one of her favorite teachers at McKinley – but she’s not the blonde that’s making her stomach fill with fluttery things.

She’s barely taken two steps into the room when she spots Brittany already sitting at their shared desk. She had been resting her chin in her palm looking bored as ever until Santana walked in. That’s when Brittany perked up and turned on her signature mega-watt smile.

It was getting harder and harder for Santana to scowl at the sight of it.

“Hi!” Brittany greeted happily as Santana took a seat next to her, “How was your weekend?”

It was always the same with Brittany, no matter what kind of look Santana threw her way. Brittany never seemed to be fazed by her grumpiness. She just took it in stride and continued to try and make conversation even if Santana never gave her much to work with.

Maybe that’s why Santana’s drawn to the blonde? She doesn’t scare easily unlike most at the school who wouldn’t dare be so persistent.

“Fine,” Santana answered with a sigh of indifference while she got settled and took out her binder and pen.

“Awesome,” Brittany nodded and picked up her own pen to start doodling, “I had good weekend too. I went to the park, did some chores around the house, hung out with some guys from the team and – “

The team caused a crack in Santana’s façade.

She looked to Brittany, trying to figure out how the girl sitting next to her was the same fierce player she saw Friday night. With the confusion and curiosity that’s been building ever since, the words just came tumbling out of her before she could catch them.

“You’re our new QB,” Santana stated but it sounded more like an accusation than an observation.

Brittany’s brows rose and a coy smile began to spread across her lips, “So you can say more than two words?”

Santana rolled her eyes at the sarcasm but even more so at how that smile made her stomach flip. She really needed to get her shit together.

“But yeah,” Brittany added coolly, “Seems like I am.”

Santana looked down at her binder, “You didn’t say.”

“You didn’t ask,” Brittany replied just as quickly.

Before Santana could get wrapped up in that giddy feeling again, she hardened herself. She was starting to see how Brittany could keep up with the guys on the team, the girl was quick and she had confidence.

Santana liked that…or whatever.

“Sup dudes!” Miss Holliday greeted the class as she strolled in just after the bell, “Is this Monday dragging or what?”

Some kids grunted in agreement. Brittany chuckled away and Miss Holliday smirked up at her.

“Awesome game, Chica!” Miss Holliday complimented as she walked down their row closest to Brittany. She held out her fist for Brittany to bump, “You kicked butt out there.”

“Thanks,” Brittany replied sweetly as their fists connected, “It was a team effort.”

“Spoken like a true leader. About time we got a little girl power in this school,” Miss Holliday nodded approvingly before moving down the row.

Santana watched Brittany giggle then get swept up in listening to Miss Holliday’s instructions for the warm-up activity. Again, Santana found herself in awe of how Brittany was the same girl who could break tackles and fire a football downfield. Brittany was friendly and soft and diplomatic, nothing like any of the guys on the team.

“You’re staring,” Brittany pointed out although her gaze remained on Miss Holliday now standing at the front of the class setting up the projector.

Santana doesn’t know why, but Brittany’s comment makes her cheeks burn.

She was glad when one of the kids closest to the door was asked to turn off the lights. In the darkness, she found some comfort and a little confidence. She was able to get a grip and act like a normal person.

“We’ve never had a female QB before,” Santana whispered. She had her pen in hand, trying to follow along with everyone else by doing the activity but her focus was elsewhere.

“So I’ve heard,” Brittany replied just as softly.

Santana didn’t know what to say next; this was the most they’ve spoken to each other thus far and she really didn’t know where the conversation was going.

What she didn’t anticipate though was fucking it all up with one sentence.

“Girls,” Santana breathed out and for some reason the word made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t realize she hadn’t said it in awhile, maybe not since seeing…  

Santana swallows hard at the memory trying to worm its way in. She pushes it to the back of her mind; now isn’t the time for it.  

“Girls,” She repeats herself with a steadier voice, “They aren’t supposed to play football.”

When Brittany looks at her, the friendly smile is gone and her pretty blue eyes are darker and fill with disbelief.

Santana knows she said the wrong thing the second the words leave her lips. It’s not exactly what she meant, but it’s too late to take it back now. Her words have already done the damage.  

“Huh,” Brittany scoffs and averts her eyes back to her work, “Didn’t expect to hear that coming from you.”

Santana frowns – mostly out of guilt – but her instincts have her on the defense, “What’s that suppose to mean?”

She watches Brittany’s jaw tighten before she’s turning to look at Santana again. Her brows knit together, “It means I didn’t think you were the small-minded type.”

Santana feels winded.

She’s been called many things in her life and has heard some creative insults aimed at her, but never has she ever been called small-minded. She’s surprised by how much that one actually hurts. After everything she went through last year, after all the backlash, after having to deal with real small-minded people she feels a little offended. She can’t be lumped in with them. It’s not possible, because she’s…

The word gets trapped her throat and Santana has to swallow hard again to steady herself.

She isn’t like everyone else.

On second thought, maybe she is if she’s still saying something like that?

“I’ve always been told that those who can play the game well should,” Brittany tells her firmly, “I think I’m someone that can and judging by your team’s standings for the past three years, you could use someone like me on that field.”

Santana gulps. She can’t remember the last time someone at this school spoke to her the way Brittany is. It’s not a tone she’s familiar with, but she knows she deserves it.

“I don’t know you very well, but I thought – I don’t know – I thought you’d at least be a little more accepting than the hicks I’ve come across in this town,” Brittany continues, “I guess I was wrong.”

Santana’s lips part to defend herself, but nothing comes out.

Brittany doesn’t notice, “It shouldn’t matter if I’m a girl or a boy or a damn alien from outer space. If you can play – if you want to play – then you should, no matter what the sport is. Anyone that thinks otherwise is just…well, they’re stupid.”

The last word has Brittany’s voice cracking and the sound finally has Santana sputtering for an explanations, “I – I didn’t mean to – “

“You should probably just pay attention to the board, Santana.”

Santana bites her lip at Brittany’s clipped tone – that might’ve been the first time she’s ever heard Brittany say her name. She does as she’s told though. It’s best if she doesn’t dig herself a deeper hole.

\\

Santana spends the rest of the day mulling over Brittany's words. Even through Cheerios practice after school, Santana can’t seem to get her head on right.

Maybe she really has become a product of her environment? Maybe all the small-minded people she's surrounded by have somehow managed to rub off on her after all of these years?

That can’t be the case, can it?

She hates that she has to ask herself that. Usually, Santana’s not one to have any regrets or remorse once she spits out her vicious words but this time she finds herself backpedaling when it comes to Brittany. She wasn’t trying to be a bitch, it just sort of happened and for once in her life she feels kind of horrible about it.

\\

“You okay?” Quinn asks hesitantly after she dismissed the squad for a water break. Santana was meant to lead warm-ups today but Quinn seemed more eager to take over and Santana didn’t mind considering she’s so distracted.

“Yeah,” Santana shrugs, “I’m fine.”

“You’re quiet today,” Quinn notes, “You didn’t even laugh when Bec accidentally called Coach Sylvester sir.”

Santana tries to mask her worries and shrugs again, “She’s not that far off, have you seen Coach lately? Very mannish.”

Quinn smirks, pleased to seemingly have her best friend back, “So true.”

Just then Coach Sylvester blows her whistle and barks orders at the squad. Santana’s reluctant to move, but she pushes herself up anyway.

“God,” She groans as they walk over to the others, “I’m over this year and it hasn’t even started.”

“Same,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go make fun of the JV squad later? I hear they need a ton of work and their practices runs longer than ours because they suck so much.”

If it were any other day, that suggestion would have Santana eager to get a front row seat but even that doesn’t help. Still, she has to retain some sort of normalcy even if thoughts of Brittany are trying their hardest to disrupt that.

“I can’t wait to see that train wreck,” Santana quips and together, she and her best friend fall in line with the rest of the squad.

\\

The remainder of the week is more of the same: class, Cheerios practice, homework then repeat. The only thing that’s out of the ordinary for Santana is the icy, cold shoulder Brittany’s giving her now.

Or maybe Santana’s the one avoiding her?

It’s all minor details. What’s important is that they aren’t speaking to each other anymore and Santana’s starting to miss Brittany’s usual cheerful greetings.

She knows what she needs to do to fix this. It doesn’t make it any easier for her to actually do it though. To admit that she was wrong, to apologize for her words, to accept responsibility for her actions? Santana’s not use to most of that!

It’s a weird kind of tension though between her and Brittany, so Santana’s not sure how much more she can take. Instead, she steals sideways glances in the dark and hopes Brittany takes pity on her and makes the first move.

Brittany doesn’t and soon one week’s worth of silence ends up turning into two.

\\

Santana had every intention of making amends by last Friday’s game, but things just kept coming up. There’s class and Cheerios practice, but now she actually has to study for upcoming quizzes and assignments. She can’t fall behind again so once practice ends, Santana usually gets changed right away and heads straight for her car without even glancing in the Titans’ direction.

Is she using schoolwork as a lame excuse to avoid dealing with her shit? Of course, she’s a teenager. Procrastination comes naturally to her!

\\

Later that night, Santana sits with both of her parents at the table for dinner. It’s a rare occasion to have Maribel and Hector home at the same time, but that quickly loses its novelty when Hector starts to grill Santana on her studies.

“Papi, it’s only the third week,” Santana gently reasons.

“And?” Hector gives her a stern look, “You need to stay on top of things, Santana.”

It’s a simple sentence, but Santana feels like there’s way more beneath the surface. Sometimes it’s hard being the daughter of a successful doctor whose father was also a doctor and his father before him. There is a long line of them in the Lopez legacy and that looms over Santana like a dark cloud, especially now that she’s in her Senior year.

It’s gone without saying whose footsteps Santana will follow, but it’s still a lot of pressure for her. It’s only a matter of time before her dad begins to lecture her again about college and the importance of good grades and extracurriculars while her mom tries to elevate some of that stress.

She’s never met two people who show their love for someone so differently.

“Don’t put too much pressure on her,” Maribel says and squeezes Santana’s hand from across the table lovingly, “You’re doing fine, mija.”

Hector frowns at his wife, “Fine isn’t enough. You think any of these Ivy League schools care about fine? Of course not. They’re going through thousands of applicants a year and fine doesn’t stand out. Fine doesn’t get into Harvard.”

Maribel narrows her eyes at his rambling.

“Don’t give me that look,” Hector huffs but his voice softens as he looks to Santana, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Santana can already guess what he’s about to say. She’s heard it so many times before.

“You can’t get complacent, Santana. You have a lot to make up for,” Hector adds just as Santana knew he would, “Especially after the year you’ve had.”

“That’s an understatement,” Santana mumbles as she pushes food around on her plate.

“What was that?” Hector raises a challenging brow.

“It’s nothing,” Santana dismisses and smiles reassuringly at her dad, “I’m on top of everything this year, Papi. I promise, you don’t have to worry. I won’t disappoint you.”

When Hector matches her smile, Santana feels a little relief even if it only lasts for a moment.

\\

It isn’t until they’re nearing the end of the third week of school when things on the Brittany-front begin to shift for Santana. They still aren’t speaking to each other, but the blonde practically pops up everywhere she goes – if not physically, then someone’s bound to be talking about her.

After securing a second win for the Titans, Brittany has quickly climbed the ranks on the popularity ladder. The buzz around her grows, but what’s odd is that despite her obvious talents and annoyingly charming smile the students of McKinley have mixed feelings about her.

More importantly, about having a female quarterback.

On her walks to class, Santana has overheard the murmurs of doubt in Brittany’s abilities. Some are frustrated at how a new kid was able to dethrone Finn Hudson who has been leading the team all of her high school career. Some think Coach Beiste is getting soft. Some think it’s all a hoax, but Santana doesn’t really understand that one.

Regardless of how they feel about her though, Brittany’s still able to part crowds any time she walks down the hall. It doesn’t look like she pays them any mind, but Santana’s been wrong about her before.

But with popularity comes the irritating gossip mongers and Santana happens to overhear Brittany’s first encounter with McKinley’s most annoying: Jacob Ben Israel.

\\\\\

Between her morning runs, class, football practice, weight training, homework and helping out with Pete, Brittany’s having a hard time finding a moment to relax. She should be use to the hectic schedule by now, but making the change from her old school’s system to Lima’s is throwing her off a little. The school days start earlier, football practices run later and the work is a little harder than she use to.

Then there’s everything going on with Santana and that might be the most frustrating.

For nearly two weeks, they’ve kept this thing between them going. Did Brittany overreact by saying what she said? She doesn’t think so. Maybe Santana didn’t think what she said to her was a big deal, but to Brittany it was. The things people say to her in Lima aren’t anything knew, but that doesn’t mean she’s immune to their sting.

Most times, she’s able to ignore them but it just hits differently when she hears the utter disbelief coming from a fellow female. It’s like, whatever happened to empowering and uplifting each other? Did Santana not grow up listening to the Spice Girls? Has she never watched She’s the Man? Bend it like Beckham? A League of their own?

It’s so irritating because she can’t even ask Santana, the girl avoids her like the plague! The only time they’re ever close enough is in English class and that’s only because they have to share a table.

\\

Brittany’s tired and achy and she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts as shuffles through her locker for her textbook for next class that she doesn’t notice she is no longer alone.

“Brittany Pierce!” Brittany hears someone say and the sound makes her flinch, “You’ve become quite the celebrity.”

She leans back slowly and peeks around her locker door to find a rather dorky looking guy with a huge cloud of hair. She notices the mic in his hand next and is instantly confused.

Is she on tv?

“Who are you?” She asks and glances around unsurely for a camera.

“Jacob Ben Israel,” He says and holds out his hand for her to shake, “Some call me JBI for short. I’m McKinley’s #1 source for news and the hottest gossip.”

Brittany shakes his hand; it’s grossly warm and sweaty as hell but she’s not surprised judging by the look of him. He certainty isn’t dressed like a journalist or one of those news reporters she has seen on tv.

She can hear her dad’s voice in her head chastising her for judging a book by its cover so she gives JBI a polite smile, “Oh okay. Nice to meet you.”

She goes to turn back to her locker, but JBI is quick to start the questions.

“So you’re the first female QB here at McKinley High. You’re new to the school and you’re the first to ever bench Finn Hudson and you’ve already led the Titans to their second victory this year. Hoping for a third this Friday?” JBI pauses and holds out the mic for Brittany.

She clears her throat, she’s not sure where the camera is so she just looks at him, “Of course. There are a lot of really great players on the team and I’m confident we can win a lot more games this season.”  

“Awesome,” JBI replies enthusiastically, “A winning streak isn’t something a lot of the students here have experienced. You’re off to a great start this year. You’re bound to be nominated for Homecoming Court!”

Brittany almost laughs at that.

She’s been nominated at her old school before – even won a couple times – but that’s because she was voted for by her peers, peers who have known her for years. She doesn’t expect any nomination this year, the only reason anyone knows her is because she plays football. If she were to be nominated, it wouldn’t be because she’s well-liked or something like that. It would be because she sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Sounds cool,” Brittany replies despite disagreeing with him.

“So tell us,” JBI’s voice takes a dip. It’s sneaky, almost mischievous, “Would you rather be crowned the King or the Queen?”

Brittany’s stomach flips. She doesn’t like this interview thing anymore.

“What?” She asks because the question confuses her but she finds him wearing this sly grin like he’s just found her weak spot.

He hasn’t, but Brittany’s guard instantly goes up.

“Don’t be shy,” He coaxes with the wag of his brow, “You know what I’m talking about. You’re a female QB, no way you’re strai – “

“Hey!” Suddenly Santana’s there, of all people, and there’s fury in her eyes as she shoves JBI’s mic to his chest, “Fuck off.”

Brittany blinks like she’s caught in a daydream. Her eyes shift from Santana to JBI whose grin widens upon seeing the Co-Captain.

“Now this is a pairing I’m sure everyone would love to see,” He says as he talks into the mic again like nothing’s happened, like Santana isn’t about to beat him over the head with it. He looks to the camera – the kid’s been lingering over Brittany’s right shoulder thus far – and says, “It’s the infamous Santana Lopez, gracing us with her presence.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “I’m not gracing you with shit. Your little show sucks.”

“That’s not what my viewer count says. I’m sure you remember,” JBI quips as he turns back to the pair, “So Brittany, you didn’t answer the question.”

Brittany feels like a deer caught in the headlights; she can’t even remember what the question was, but thankfully Santana interrupts again.

“I said beat it, loser, before I shove that camera so far up your dumb ass you’ll be spitting out polaroids,” Santana snaps.

To Brittany’s surprise though, JBI doesn’t move right away.

“That doesn’t make sense, we’re not even using that kind of cam – “

Santana grits her jaw and takes a threatening step forward. Her voice dips low and gravely, “Try me, Jewfro. Please. I’ve been itching to kick you square in the nuts.”

That threat has JBI reaching to protect his crotch before he turns and runs down the hall with his camera-friend following him.  

Brittany watches Santana smirk like she’s so proud of herself for being able to instill the fear of God in someone before she’s averting her gaze. When her stormy brown eyes land on Brittany, the blonde feels a cold chill.

The smirk’s gone and in it’s place is a familiar scowl. Brick by brick, her wall goes up.

“I know you’re new here, Pierce, so a little word of advice,” Santana warns as she turns to the lockers, “Don’t talk to him. He’s a wannabe journalist that reports nothing but bullshit. He’ll twist your words if you let him, trust me. I’ve seen it happen many times and I don’t want you to get caught up in his shit.”

Brittany’s at a loss for words.

Santana hasn’t spoken to her all this time and now all of sudden this? Why would it matter to Santana what she did or said or who she spoke to? Why would she care, she doesn’t even know Brittany?

There’s so many questions beginning to swarm her, but none make it out of her head.

“Thanks,” Is the only word Brittany ends up saying around a shy grin.

There’s a hint of smile on Santana’s lips when their eyes catch for a quick second, but it disappears just as fast.

“It’s whatever,” She says and Brittany hears a locker door slam, “I’ll see you in class.”

It isn’t until Santana’s halfway down the hall that Brittany finally realizes that their lockers are right next to each other’s. She can do nothing but laugh at the small coincidence.

\\

The second time Santana speaks to her, it’s because Brittany accidentally scared the crap out of her.

It’s Thursday now – the last day of practice before the Week 3 game – so Brittany wants to get a jump on warm-ups. She knows there’s a thirty minute buffer between Cheerios and Titans practice, but she has to account for the extra time it takes to pick up her gear from Coach Beiste’s office first since everything’s stored in the boys’ locker room.

Usually, she gets the whole room to herself and plays a little music from her phone to get amped up. This time though, there’s one Cheerio that’s already there and this particular Cheerio surprisingly has a beautiful singing voice.

Brittany feels like she’s being lured in by one of those sirens she has read about in Greek mythology. She thinks she should probably make her presence known because creeping around a locker room is kind of weird, but she’s so in awe of the girl’s voice.

More importantly, the owner of that voice.

“Jesus!” Santana gasps when she rounds the corner to find Brittany lingering by the hampers. Her hand flies to chest to steady her beating heart, “What the hell are you doing, Pierce? Trying to give a girl a heart attack?”

Brittany thanks the heavens when she finds that Santana’s fully clothed already.

“I’m sorry!” Brittany blushes, “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

Santana just shakes her head before eyeing Brittany again. There’s a flash of concern when Santana says, “You look like shit, worse than yesterday when I saw you with JBI.”

Brittany’s not sure how to take that. She hasn’t been sleeping well, that’s for sure, but it worries her that her tiredness is beginning to show. At least, that’s what she hopes Santana is talking about.

“I’ve been super busy lately. Guess I’m just ready for the weekend,” She says instead as she fumbles with the shoulder pads in her hands, “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Interrupting me?”

“Yeah, you were singing. It sounded really pretty.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Santana brushes off before crossing her arms over her chest, “Why are you in here so early? Doesn’t your practice start at 4?”

“Why are you in here so late?” Brittany challenges, “Didn’t your practice start at 3:30?”

Santana cocks her head to the side, “I had to talk to Ms. Pillsbury about something.”

“Who?”

“She’s the guidance counselor. You’ll probably meet her soon, she’s on all the Seniors about their college application due dates. Figures, she’d want to start off with me.”

Brittany wants to know more. Afterall, she’s naturally curious when it comes to getting to know new people so the questions build but she doesn’t voice any of them. Not that Santana would give her any answers anyway.

Santana’s looking at all the gear Brittany’s toting along with her duffle bag and her brows furrow, “Did you carry all of that here?”

Brittany looks down at her gear and nods.

“Why?” Santana scrunches her nose, “Don’t you have a locker or something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “I was never given one. Coach Beiste said Coach Sylvester is meant to assign one to me, but I guess she’s been busy.”

“Doubt it. She hates Coach Beiste so in turn, she hates you.”

Brittany frowns; what’d she do?

“She’s probably just giving you a hard time because you’re a Titan instead of a Cheerio,” Santana answers then walks off. She goes to grab the clipboard that hangs above the hampers, dangling from it is a key, “I can assign you one, it’s part of my Co-Captain privileges. This side is reserved for the squad, obviously, but the set by the showers are all free. You can leave your football stuff there too, doubt anyone in here is going to want to steal it.”

Brittany’s taken aback by Santana’s random act of kindness for a second time that week. She let’s her smile shine, “Thanks. It really helps having everyting in one place. I don’t have to waste so much time walking back and forth.”

Santana nods and there’s that hint of a smile again before she’s leading the way over to the section of lockers that’s now become Brittany’s.

“Top or bottom?” Santana asks as she scans the list attached to the clipboard. Brittany smirks and notices the moment Santana realizes what she has said, “As in locker preference.”

“Duh,” Brittany jokes with a straight face, “What else would you mean?”

Santana’s face is flushed now and Brittany tries her hardest not to laugh. She’s kind of cute when she’s flustered like that.

“I’ll put you down for top,” Santana answers stiffly. Now her eyes are solely glued to the clipboard in her hands, “I guess I can unlock the bottom one too though so you can have the entire segment. You can – uh – decide which you want to use or whatever.”

“That works for me,” Brittany replies casually before she starts to undress.

Santana practically runs into a wall when she sees Brittany pull her top up over her head and let it drop onto her open duffle bag.

“I’ll just leave you to it then,” Santana calls over her shoulder as she scurries off.

Brittany watches the whole thing curiously. Has Santana never changed in front of other girls before or something? That’s the only explanation she comes to for how awkward she’s being.

Brittany doesn’t dwell on it, just continues getting dressed.

\\

By the time Brittany’s got her practice gear on, Santana appears again. She looks a little shier than before and she’s fiddling with her hands.

Brittany just smiles and reaches down for her helmet, “You going now?”

“Yeah,” Santana answers, “Just trying to enjoy the last bit of A.C.”

“It’s not that hot out,” Brittany chuckles and motions to her pads, “At least you don’t have to wear all this.”

“True,” Santana smirks, “Now that would suck.”

Brittany chuckles again. She likes this version of Santana, she hopes she can see her more often but there’s still a giant pink elephant in the room so Brittany doesn’t get too excited.

“I’ll see you out there I guess,” Brittany says.

Santana nods and turns to leave, but then stops and turns back to face Brittany again.

“Actually, I just wanted to say,” Santana starts.

Brittany wonders if this is it. If she’s finally going to get an apology after what Santana said to her the other week, or at least the start of a conversation about her opinion? Anything would suffice by this point.

Brittany waits.

“I just wanted to say,” Santana repeats and her voice is so shaky. It’s completely unlike the confidence she possessed when she told off JBI, “Have a good practice.”

It’s not what Brittany was anticipating her to say – and judging by the uncertainty on Santana’s face, it wasn’t what she was anticipating to say either – but she’ll take it.

“Thanks,” Brittany grins as she walks by her to leave, “You too.”

\\

By Friday night, Brittany’s feeling better than she has all week. Although they’ve yet to acknowledge Santana’s misjudgments, baby steps in the right direction have been taken.

Kind of.

First Santana defended her against JBI then on Thursday she assigned Brittany a locker and today? Today Santana brought her a drink from the Cheerios special lounge while Brittany was getting ready for the game.

“What is it?” Brittany asked hesitantly as she eyed the color of it. She’s sitting on the benches in the locker room completely dressed now in her uniform. All that’s left are the final touches like a quick dance party to get her pumped and applying a little Game Day eye make up.

“It’s a bunch of healthy stuff like fruits and veggies. All fresh so that explains the color, no preservatives. There’s some vitamin supplements in there too,” Santana explains like it’s all a bother.

Brittany’s beginning to see through that though.

“I don’t take drugs,” Brittany replies and tries to give the bottle back.

Santana rolls her eyes and there’s that hint of a smile again, “Does Vitamin D count as a drug? If so, then Puckerman is definitely on something stronger.”

Brittany frowns at the accusation, “Wait, seriously? The team can get in a lot of troub – “

“Easy, Pierce, I’m sure he’s just all-talk,” Santana amends, “I wouldn’t open an investigation on him or anything.” Then there’s a pause and for a second she looks a little shy as she motions to the bottle in Brittany’s hands. Her voice comes out softer, “Drink that. It’ll help with the tiredness and it’s good for your immune system too incase you’re about to come down with something.”

“You think I’m getting sick?” Brittany chuckles and turns back to apply thick black stripes to the apples of her cheeks.

Santana lifts a shoulder casually before standing, “You almost fell asleep in class today.”

Brittany blushes. Did she really? She’s so tired, she can’t even remember.

“What does that have to do with getting sick?” Brittany wonders.

“It’s almost that time of the year and bugs move quick,” Santana explains, “A lot quicker if you’re not taking care of yourself…for example, not getting enough sleep.”

That takes Brittany by surprise. Santana caring about her? Why? But despite the surprise, Brittany feels warm and fuzzy all over.

“Alright Doc, I’ll drink it,” Brittany jokes as she finishes up drawing on the left stripe. She turns to Santana as she twists off the lid and makes a show of taking a long drink.

Santana actually laughs this time before she shakes her head.

“I feel better already,” Brittany beams as she stands. They’re close now and it’s then that Brittany really notices the height difference, “Thanks for this. What do I owe you? Pressed juices like these probably cost an arm and a leg here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Santana dismisses and takes a step back to put some distance between them, “Just bring home another win.”

“You got it,” Brittany winks and goes to take another swig while she watches Santana leave the locker room.

\\

Unfortunately, it’s a rocky start this time for the Titans. It’s not that Brittany isn’t playing at her best because she always brings 110% to the field no matter how she’s feeling. It’s actually her teammates who aren’t as focused as she is for some reason. There’s still a lot of work to be done when it comes to being a cohesive unit, but today they’ve really taken a step back.

They’re down by 17 points when the half is called.

\\

“Alright, what’s going on out there?” Coach Beiste questions. She’s fuming as she eyes everyone for an answer, “What I’m seeing is that Pierce is the only one here that’s come to play.”

Karofsky scoffs and folds up his arms, “I’m so over hearing about her!”

“Me too!” Azimio chimes in, “First we let in Hummel and now her? What’s next? She gonna join the Puck Heads in the off season and change the game for them too? The rest of us are chopped liver now. It’s not good for my reputation!”

“Your reputation? You were a loser just like the rest of us before Brittany came,” Mike replies but the two don’t take kindly to being called a loser and start shoving at him.

“Cut it out!” Sam tries to breaking it up.

Brittany looks over at them and grimaces. Dave and Azimio both have been a pain in her ass since she’s joined the team, but she thought they were past this by now? They’ve got a winning record, they’re actually improving on being a better team, so what’s the issue all of a sudden?

Coach Beiste shakes her head at them, “Give me a break! One person doesn’t win games. You don’t have to like Pierce but you’re going to give her your respect if you want to play on my field. It’s as simple as that. You work together, you listen and respect each other. That’s what it means to be a team, is it not?”

Brittany eyes her teammates. Aside from the select handful that actually like her, the guys look at her like she’s the enemy. It makes Brittany feel really unsettled.

“Is it not?” Coach Beiste presses.

There are mumbles amongst the squad but it’s not enough for Coach Beiste.

“Louder!”

“Yes, Coach!” They say in unison.

“Okay then, let’s starting acting like a team out there and win this game!” She says with the clap of her hands.

\\

They’re in the fourth quarter now and the Titans have managed to make it a close game despite their rough start. Coach Beiste’s pep talk must’ve worked because the team is playing harder than the first half, but Brittany still senses the undertones of resentment.

She packs it away for now and just focuses on making plays. Afterall, she’s meant to be winning this one for Santana. Well not for Santana; it’s more like paying her back for the drink earlier.

Brittany nods resolutely and looks to the sidelines to see the Co-Captain shaking her pompoms. She does a high kick and yells out a cheer in time with the others, but the smile she’s wearing is what catches Brittany’s eye.

She shakes her head and focuses on the snap.

“Down!” Brittany calls out. She catches the other team’s Line Backer’s movement from the corner of her eye. The defense looks hungry, but so are they. She smirks and braces herself, “Hut!”

The ball is snapped and Brittany quickly hands it off to Puckerman. So far their run game has been pretty weak tonight, but Puckerman surprises everyone and kicks into gear. He plows through the defense at full speed, breaking tackle after tackle, until he crosses over for a first down and steps out of bounds.

He spikes down the ball and makes a sawing motion with his arm while the crowd goes wild. Matt runs up to congratulate him with a hard pat on the back.

“Yes!” Brittany jumps up and down as she cheers.

Over on the sidelines, the Cheerios are just as excited as they chant:

“First and ten, first and ten! First and ten, let’s do it again!”

Brittany sees Santana watching her with a huge grin and it makes her feel warm all over again. She knows it’s silly to think that Santana’s cheers are just for her – same goes for that smile – but she can’t help but dream.  

Yeah, she’s decided. She’s really going to win this game just for her.

Brittany quickly runs up to their new line of scrimmage and everyone starts to take their position. She smacks Puckerman on the back when he jogs up next to her to get in formation.

“Nice carry, Puckerman!” She compliments.

“Sawed right through them!” Puckerman shouted excitedly back.

“Let’s keep up that energy,” Brittany praised and called out another play. They were in field goal range now, but like always – Brittany wasn’t here to play it safe especially with the new set of downs.

This time she wanted to try another play-action route since it worked pretty well in the pre-season game. Mike and Sam have proved to her that they have great hands, but they needed to work on their speed and timing. Now was a perfect time to test that. With Puckerman on a roll, the defense was sure to up their coverage on him rather than the receivers which would work perfectly in Brittany’s favor.

“Blue 82!” Brittany repeats and looks to her sides for confirmation that they’ve picked up the slight change.

Mike and Sam give her the barest nod before they’re glaring at their defenders. Brittany kicks up her foot and Mike quickly changes position so that he’s next to Sam now on the right side of the field.

“Blue 82!” Brittany calls out again and readies herself for the snap, “Down…Hut!”

The ball is hiked and she fakes the hand off to Puckerman so smoothly that the defense follows after him just as planned. While they chase him down to the left side of the field, Mike and Same cut up the right. Brittany holds onto the ball longer than she likes, making sure she gives her receivers enough time to breakaway from their defenders.

The other team’s Line Backer is trying his hardest to break through her O-Line though. Thankfully, Matt ends up making a key block for Mike and Brittany’s able to step up in the pocket and fire down a quick pass. It’s a little lower than Brittany wanted, but Mike makes the catch and pushes past a defender for another first down!  

Everyone went wild, but the play clock was still going since Mike hadn’t made it out of bounds.

Brittany motioned for everyone to hurry into position – this time she was going for a slant route with Matt being the intended receiver. She kept her eye on the seconds ticking away, but the team was able to make it in time to get set.

“OG 30!” She called out. She was really starting to feel that adrenaline kick in but she kept her cool and held out her hands, “Down…Hut!”

Again, Brittany caught the ball and dropped back as everyone began to move. Despite the grumpiness during half time, the guys that made up her O-Line – mostly Dave and Azimio – did their jobs correctly and held the line. Brittany looked to her right and faked a throw before turning to her left and firing at Matt.

He juggled the ball in the air, but ultimately was able to secure possession of it and ran up the side of the field for an easy touchdown!

“Let’s go!” Brittany pumped her fist in the air. That was their best drive all game and now with the new points on the board, they’re finally up by 6! With just a little over ten minutes left in the final quarter, Brittany’s feeling good about their odds in coming away with another win.

\\

She was right to feel confident; Titans end up winning the game 27 – 21. When the final whistle was blown, everyone was cheering and some of her teammates rushed to congratulate her efforts. She happily returned the sentiments, but she couldn’t help but glance over at the sidelines to see if Santana was watching her again too.

And she was, alongside Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios.

Brittany just grinned as she pulled off her helmet and let down her hair, happy that she was able to make good on her promise to Santana.

\\

Despite how great she felt after Friday’s win, Monday morning was a different story.

Everything hurts and she was so exhausted that she didn’t even go for her usual morning run which is telling because she’s one of those rare people that actually works well with routine exercising. She guesses all those late nights studying combined with her patchy sleep schedule have finally taken its toll on her body.

She thinks back to what Santana said Friday about getting enough rest. God, she hopes she isn’t coming down with anything. Getting sick is just not what she needs right now.

“Hey mom?” Brittany taps on Whitney’s bedroom door. The curtains are already drawn and welcome in the morning sun so she knows her mom’s awake already. Whitney appears in the doorway of the master bath in her work uniform and instantly looks worried.

“You feeling okay, kiddo?” She asks as she crosses the room to press at Brittany’s forehead.

“I don’t think I’m sick, but I feel horrible,” Brittany explains.

“Yeah, you don’t have a fever. Have you been getting enough sleep?” Whitney asks.

Brittany shakes her head. Whitney eyes her with concern.

“It’s not the dreams again, is it?”

Brittany shakes her head again, “No. I haven’t had one since the last time I told you. I think I’m just worn out.”

“You’re a busy girl,” Whitney nods.

“Is it okay if I stay home today?” Brittany asks hesitantly, “It’s the only day of the week that I don’t really need to be at practice. I think I can access most of my schoolwork online so – “

“It’s okay, Britt. Just rest today,” Whitney says, “Missing a day isn’t going to break you and I know you’ll catch up when you’re feeling better.”

Brittany fills with relief and gives her mom a weak smile. She’s so happy that Whitney’s so understanding, but she guesses that’s come from experience with everything that happened at the beginning of the year with her dad’s passing. Many mental health days were taken, but Whitney never made her feel bad for it. If anything, she always encouraged them.

“Thanks mom,” Brittany says before taking herself back to bed. She’s able to fall asleep fast for once and she doesn’t wake again until she has to use the bathroom.

\\

When she wakes up the third time, it’s just after three. She sees a text from her mom saying that Gran has Pete and she’ll pick him up once she gets off of work so that Brittany can continue resting.

She smiles and sends a text back to thank her before getting up. After a quick snack and a big glass of OJ, Brittany heads to the couch for another nap.

This time, sleep doesn’t find her as easily as it did the other times so she turns on the tv and tries to find something to watch. She decides to put on something she considers boring in hopes that maybe it’ll bore her right to sleep.

Miraculously, her plan works and she settles in for another nap.

An hour or so goes by when Brittany begins to stir because Pete’s trying to squeeze onto the couch next to her. His cold feel touch her bare ankles beneath her blanket and she flinches at the feel.

“Honey, what did I say in the car?” Whitney whispers, “Let your sister rest.”

“I am,” Pete pouts, “I just wanted to sit with her.”

“How about you come help me with – “

“It’s okay, mom,” Brittany pushes to sit up. Pete instantly beams at her, “I’ve slept enough I think.”

“Feeling better?” Whitney asks and brushes her hand over Brittany’s wild hair.

She nods and does a little stretch, “Much better.”

“Good to hear,” Whitney says and bends down to press kisses to Brittany and Pete’s head, “I’m going to make dinner then. Just leftovers so it shouldn’t take long.”

When she heads off for the kitchen, Pete snuggles in closer to Brittany.

“Did you get to watch cartoons all day?” He asks curiously.

Brittany shakes her head, “Nope, but I did take many naps.”

“Nice!”

“Totally.”

\\

Brittany and Pete are watching tv together a moment later when Brittany hears a knock at the front door. Pete jumps up at the sound and rushes to see who it is.

“Don’t open that door, Peter!” Whitney calls out from the kitchen, “Let your sister get it.”

Pete pouts and hangs back as Brittany moves to get up. She chuckles and ruffles up his hair as she passes by. When Brittany takes a peek, she’s shocked by what she sees and quickly opens the door.

“Santana?” Brittany greets. She’s both confused and pleasantly surprised.

“Who are you?” Pete asks curiously with his head tilted up at the Co-Captain.

“Hi,” Santana smiles kind of nervously as she glances between the two. She’s dressed in her Cheerios warm-up gear – she must’ve just finished practice – and has her binder tucked under her arm.

“Uh…I’m Santana,” She answers softly, “And you are?”

“I’m Peter!” Brittany’s brother holds out his hand to shake, “Everyone calls me Pete though, so you can too if you want.”

Santana quirks a brow at him but smiles as she shakes his hand anyway, “Nice to meet you, Pete.”

“Pete, can you go help mom?” Brittany instructs. She waits until he’s run off then asks Santana out of disbelief, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in class today,” She says.

“Yeah…I didn’t feel well.”

“Didn’t I say you were going to get sick?” Santana smirks.

“I’m not sick,” Brittany sighs, “I was just tired.”

“Right,” Santana keeps the smirk and motions to her binder, “Well, I brought you the work you missed. It’s kind of important for the paper due in a few weeks.”

Brittany just blinks. Maybe she’s still asleep and this is all a dream?

“Here,” Santana offers and goes to flip through her binder for a couple handouts to give to Brittany.

The blonde accepts them although she’s still trying to grasp the fact that Santana’s standing on her doorstep, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Santana nods and it looks like she’s about to turn away.

“Wait. How’d you know where I lived?” Brittany quickly asks before she can run off.

“Mike told me,” Santana shrugs, “Actually, Mike told Quinn and Quinn told me. Apparently you two are neighbors?”

“Yeah, he likes to tell everyone that,” Brittany chuckles before she gets a sudden burst of confidence and asks, “Did you…want to come in?”

“Uhhh,” Santana looks unsure but then she gives Brittany a small smile, “Okay.”

Brittany opens the door a little wider and leads Santana into the living room. She pushes the blanket she brought down from her room to the side so they can both sit on the couch. Brittany starts to flip through the packet Santana gave her and she’s already dreading the assignment.

“Woah,” Brittany gasps, “This is a lot.”

“Yeah,” Santana nods, “I can help you with it though if you want? Miss Holliday said we can work in groups if we wanted, but we’ll be graded individually.”

Brittany blinks blankly again, “Huh, that’s funny.”

“What?”

Brittany just shakes her head and shrugs, “Just the other week you were insulting me then you stopped talking to me for awhile and now you’re being super helpful. I just can’t get a read on you.”

Brittany wasn’t trying to make Santana feel cornered, she just wanted to open up the conversation. She was over ignoring the obvious, so she went straight for the kill and brought it up head on.

Santana’s shoulders dropped, “Look, I’m…I’m really sorry about that. I was so out of line.”

“Yeah, you really were,” Brittany replies but she isn’t trying to rile Santana up by being argumentative, “You know how many times I’ve heard something similar over the years? Ever since I started playing sports it’s always been: you run like a girl, you throw like a girl, you’re pretty good…for a girl.”

Santana looks apologetically at Brittany and goes to fiddle with her hands in her lap. Brittany notes the familiar motion and decides its something she does when she’s nervous.

Brittany adds, “Like being a girl that plays sports is somehow less than, like it’s a bad thing. I’ve never understood it. I’m just as good as they are.”

Santana shakes her head, “No. I’ve seen you play. You’re so much better.”

“Thanks,” Brittany chuckles weakly, “You know, when I first started I wasn't trying to make some big statement. I didn't want the pressure of being the first female whatever, I just wanted to play. And my family, they've always been super supportive no matter the sport, especially my dad.”

Brittany feels the lump in her throat slowly start to form at his mention and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“He use to come to every game. But people are so stuck on how I've disrupted their precious norms and it makes things harder than they need to be. No matter where I go, the people will either love me or hate me for this. It's crazy. I'm just a girl who loves playing football, why's that so odd?”

“It’s not,” Santana reasons, “You’re a good different, a kind of different a place like this needs.”

Brittany smiles fondly at Santana’s kind words, “Then why did you say what you did?”

Santana pauses for awhile trying to find the right words but in the end she just shakes her head and sighs, “Probably because I’m a bitch?”

Brittany flinches, she doesn’t think that’s the case.

“You’re just…you’re not what I imagined. I thought football players were rough and you’re not like that at all. You’re soft, delicate. You treat with kindness.”

“So does Kurt,” Brittany offers kindly, “And Mike, Sam too.”

“You know what I mean,” Santana replies.

“Yeah, I do. It’s called a stereotype,” Brittany smirks, “Football players happen to come in all shapes and sizes though. Some are soft and delicate like you say I am and some aren’t, but out on the field we’re all the same. We’re one team.”

Santana nods, “I’m sorry about what I said. You have every right to be on that field, same as the guys. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise. I guess I’m still trying to adjust too. It’s not really something you see here…”

“I accept your apology,” Brittany grins.

Santana lets out a deep sigh, “This town can be so old school sometimes and it sucks how there are younger generations out here that don’t know any different. They don’t see how wrong it is to have such a shit mentality. I guess I forgot what progression looks like until you came.”

Brittany knows Santana’s being genuine now and it makes the wait for this conversation worth it. She goes to joke, “Well it’s a learning process. Now you know for the next time you come across someone who doesn’t fit the status quo.”

“Yeah,” Santana matches Brittany’s grin, “I really do.”

“Well hello,” Whitney greets as she enters the living room. She glances between Brittany and Santana as Santana rises to her feet. She stands up straight and proper, “You going to introduce me to your friend, Britt?”

Brittany gulps at the label. She doesn’t know if she’d call Santana a friend just yet.

“This is my mom Whitney. Mom, this is Santana,” Brittany says while Santana gives a polite smile, “We have class together. She was just bringing me some work I missed today.”

“That’s so kind of you,” Whitney compliments Santana.

“It was nothing,” Santana replied and glanced to Brittany, “I tried to warn her about the risks of over-doing it. I can’t imagine having a schedule like hers.”

Brittany’s brow rises at the overly polite tone. Who knew Santana was a little suck up when it came to parents. She smirks as she watches it unfold.

“Stubbornness, she gets that from her dad’s side,” Whitney jokes, “Would you like to stay for dinner? We’re just having leftovers but there’s plenty to go around.”

“Lasagna!” Pete cheers as he runs in from the kitchen.

Santana chuckles but shakes her head, “Thank you, but I should probably get home before my mom starts to worry.”

Whitney nods, “Of course. Well, it was lovely meeting you. Come on Petey, let’s make our plates.”

When they both wander off, Brittany’s again standing alone with Santana in the living room.

“So you’re a kiss-ass,” Brittany jokes, “Never would’ve guessed it.”

Santana rolls her eyes despite smiling, “I have a thing with parents. They love me, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Brittany giggles, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you’re secretly kind. Wouldn’t want to ruin your rep.”

“I appreciate it,” Santana quips playfully before gathering her things, “Well, I really should head off before my mom starts blowing up my phone.”

“Cool,” Brittany nods and leads the way over to the front door to walk Santana out, “Well. Thanks again for bringing over the work I missed.”

“No biggie,” Santana waved off as she turned to leave, “Glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Brittany waved and watched Santana make her way over to her little red Mazda with a pleased smile.

Maybe they weren’t exactly friends yet, but compared to the downward spiral they’ve been experiencing…they weren’t enemies either.

And in football terms, that’s called forward progress.

#Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction #QB!Britt

[litrally]

but what happened to aelin *insert eyebrow wiggle*

oh i am SO glad you asked

(this is super freaking long bc i have no concept of when to stop)

The crisp autumn air was near freezing in the sunrise. 

Aedion shifted from his perch overlooking their campground to tug his cloak closer to him, his body shivering in the early morning light. He got up, stretching his arms above his head and turning his head slightly to the side as he heard footsteps approaching. He stiffened. They were near silent, and the attacker obviously well trained. He likely wouldn’t even have heard them without his fae hearing. 

Aedion took a step to the side, subtly shifting his weight as he heard the steps grow faster. He angled his body so his foot was sticking slightly further out to the side. Close enough, though, that his attacker wouldn’t notice. The footsteps were nearly on top of him him now, getting ready to pounce–

Aedion turned, jutting his foot out and tripping the cloaked figure, leaving them sprawling on the ground in front of him with a curse. Aedion barked out a laugh. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you’re going to try and scare me after I’ve been keeping watch all night anyway.”

Aelin shot him a glare from beneath her hood that sent Aedion into another fit of laughter. “I expected you to be half asleep by now,” she muttered, taking the hand Aedion held out and pulling herself up.

Aedion grinned. “I haven’t seen anyone else leave you covered in dirt after a sparring in a while, anyway. This just supports what we already know.”

Aelin scoffed. “So help me Aedion, you and I both know there is no way you’d ever beat me in a sparring match.”

Aedion raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to put money on that?” He asked, reaching to resaddle their horses with their belongings. 

Aelin rolled her eyes towards the sky, stowing her dagger away in her saddlebag. “Let me rephrase that. I’m sure you think you’d be the one to win that fight. But there’s no way you’d walk away from it with your oversized ego intact.”

Aedion opened his mouth, a retort ready to spring from his lips. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice the glint of the arrows in the fields behind him, nearly invisible with the dew still clinging to the blades of glass. The arrows that were shot with one ending up in the back of his knee, and the other going through Aelin’s forearm. 

Aedion swore, doubling over and falling to his knees before he could pull the arrow out. Four men emerged from the boulders downwind of them and forced him to the ground, two pinning his arms behind his back and a third grabbing him by his hair and forcing a knife beneath his throat. 

Aelin went still, the sword at her hip half drawn and a curse dying on her lips as she took in the scene around them. She seemed to concentrate for a moment before letting out a low hiss, shaking her head slightly at Aedion when he seemed to question the lack of flames. Iron in the arrows, then. 

The fourth male pushed past Aedion, dragging his gaze up and down Aelin’s form. ‘Well, then. It seems we got lucky and caught some Terrassen royals on their way home from Rifthold.”

Aedion let out a growl, only making the man holding the knife to his throat a little closer, forcing him to grow silent. The male looking them over let out a slight laugh when he noticed their eyes. 

His eyes widened for a moment before he turned and looked them over again, taking in their coloring and resemblance. “Some very important royals, it seems.” 

He gave Aelin a mock bow. “Your Majesty,” he turned toward Aedion, giving him a slight nod with his lip curling in disgust. “General Ashryver.”

Aelin took a slow step forward. “You seem to know each other,”

The man’s grimace turned into an outright scowl. “Your general was responsible for the deaths of some of my closest friends. Adarlanian soldiers.”

Aedion gave him a grin he knew would have him seeing red. “The bastards probably had it coming. 

Faster than he had any right to be, the man punched him across the jaw, leaving a red mark on his face and a thin line of blood across his throat where the other male had held the knife too close. 

Aelin shot him a glare of what the hell is wrong with you and shifted her weight a bit closer. “Listen,” she said, drawing the man’s attention back to her. “Let us go, and I’ll make sure sure not to send the entire might of Terrassen army the second I step foot back in Orynth. 

The man snorted. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem. And don’t think I haven’t seen you heading towards your bag, Majesty. I’d suggest you take a few steps back, especially while my friend is keeping your darling cousin company.”

Aedion felt the knife dig a bit closer beneath his chin, the man holding it yanking his hair back hard enough that Aedion couldn’t hold back the wince that escaped his lips.

Aelin stiffened, stepping away from her bag. “What do you want, then?”

Aedion wanted to scream. If she got a weapon, she would be out of here in seconds. None of the men would expect the queen of Terrassen to have them gutted in a few strikes, and she’d be free. Best case scenario, they both escaped with some cuts and bruises. Worst case, Aelin still got home in one piece. 

“You see highness, I’m still rather pissed off at your cousin,”he said. Without warning, he took one of Aelin’s wrists and pinned it behind her back. Aelin started twisting to pull herself away, but the male only tightened his grip and murmured against her ear, “Move and I gut your cousin like a fish,”

Aelin froze, a real sense of panic starting to fill her eyes. Aedion was still silently begging her to run, but she ignored him, looking anywhere but his face.

“And,” he continued, “I want him to feel exactly as I did when I found out my companions were killed.”

Aedion froze then, true terror leaking its way into his bones. He was shaking his head, when did he start shaking his head? He twisted, trying to fling then men off of him, but they just pushed him further into the dirt. No. No. No, no no no no no–

The man looked at him then, giving him the most gruesome smile Aedion had ever seen. 

Aedion closed his eyes then. Like the rutting coward he was, he closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look. When he opened them again, then men holding him down had shoved him away and were running, running as fast as they could in the opposite direction. Aedion turned to look at Aelin–

His heart stopped. Stopped, then started, then stopped again. 

There was a knife in her side, one the man had been holding but neither of them had seen. 

He got up and ran to her, in a panic he had never experienced before. He let out a ragged sob, quickly pulling the knife out and pressing on the wound.

“You’ll be okay,” He said, fighting to keep his voice even. “You’ll be fine. We can head back to Orynth, and–”

His hands were shaking, and were covered in blood. Gods, why was there so much blood? 

“Aedion,” Aelin said, her voice hoarse. Her eyes were glazed with pain, but her gaze was steady as she looked at him. “Listen to me,”

She began then, telling him her messages for her friends, her court, her family. Her voice shook at some points, her emotions taking over as she dictated her last words to him. “And you,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Don’t forget who you are. You’re a general, a prince, a lord, a brother, a husband, and my gods damned cousin.” She let out a quiet laugh. “You and I both know that’s your most important title.” Her hand was slick with her own blood, and her breathing grew more labored. And she was pale. So, so, terrifyingly pale. 

Aelin squeezed his hand then. “I love you,” she murmured. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”

Aedion opened his mouth, tears streaming openly down both their cheeks. “I love you too,” He whispered. 

It hadn’t mattered. 

Her hand had already gone slack. 

#THIS SHIT HURTED IM SORRY #tog #throne of glass #aedion ashryver #aelin #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin ashryver #aelin fireheart #angst #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #lysandra #lysaedion #au #ask prompt #character death #lysandra x aedion

[wordshakers]

Breathless- an Anderperry oneshot

It’s been years since I’ve attempted writing any fanfiction, but something about Anderperry literally inspired me to the point where I HAD to write something. 

Rated: M for language

Todd’s trying to write a poem about the boy he’s fallen for, without much luck. Neil shows up and distracts him. Fluffy first kiss stuff bc I love them.

Let me know what you guys think, and if you’d read more if I wrote it. I’m so inspired by these two oh my god

God, why was this so difficult?

Autumn sunlight streamed through the window, casting uneven shadows on Todd’s notebook as he sat on his bed, racking his brain for words that could somehow encapsulate how he felt.

Normally, he didn’t have issues like this when it came to his poetry. Nature, freedom, truth— for any other topic, words seemed to flow directly onto the page, as if he hardly needed to try at all.

But this was different. This was Neil.

Neil. Even thinking the name was enough to make Todd’s stomach explode with butterflies and his heart pound in his chest. He honestly couldn’t tell if he was lucky or unlucky to have this boy as his roommate, this boy whose smile and eyes lingered in his head for hours, relentlessly distracting him from anything and everything.

No words seemed good enough to describe Neil. Nothing seemed to do him justice, to articulate just how goddamn perfect he was to Todd. And although Todd was certain that this poem would never be shared, for some reason that made it all the more important to get right. At least he had at least another ten minutes before Neil got back from rehearsal.

Suddenly, the door opened, and there he was.

Todd’s face flushed pink as Neil entered the room, script in hand, grinning. He was back early. Neil shut the door behind him and pressed his back up against it, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly. “Todd, I swear to God, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

Paranoid as he was that Neil would see the title of the poem that was sitting in his lap, Todd couldn’t hold back a smile. “Neil, I’m so happy for you.”

“I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier,” Neil recited, ecstatic, dropping his script and running right up to Todd with that smile that made his knees go weak, “Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, a hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire!”

Todd laughed, Neil’s joy was more infectious than anything he had ever known before. He was so lost in Neil’s excitement that he almost forgot about the notebook in his lap, until—

“Hey, have you been writing? What about?”

Todd panicked, grabbing the notebook and pressing it up against his chest. “Um, I— it’s nothing,” he stammered. The last thing he needed was for Neil to find out… well, everything.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Todd, I’m sure it’s great. Remember your poem in Mr. Keating’s class? You’re a natural.” Neil said kindly, sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Um.. it’s not finished yet… I…” Todd scrambled to come up with an explanation, gripping the notebook against his chest for dear life, trying to ignore the fact that Neil was sitting so close to him, let alone where they were sitting.

Neil smirked at him, making Todd’s breath catch in his throat. “Okay,” Neil said cheekily, as if he was hiding something. He began to stand up, and Todd finally began to relax, when suddenly—

Neil grabbed the notebook out of Todd’s hands and Todd’s stomach dropped. Shit!

Neil started running to the other side of the room, and Todd chased after him in a panic. “Neil, please, give it back!” he begged, not wanting Neil to see the title on the page, really not wanting Neil to see the little hearts. He was so focused on his task that he completely forgot that Neil had dropped his script on the floor.

Just as Neil turned back to look at him, grinning, Todd tripped over Neil’s script and stumbled, falling forward. Seeing the shock on the other boy’s face as he started to fall, Neil reacted without even thinking, reaching out and grabbing Todd, preventing him from falling and dropping the notebook in the process.

It had all happened so fast, Todd could barely believe the moment was real. Neil’s left arm was firmly grabbing his, and his right arm was wrapped around the small of Todd’s back. And on top of all that, their faces were barely a few inches apart. Todd was suddenly breathless.

The eye contact was electric, intense, and unblinking. Neil’s eyes flickered down to Todd’s lips for not even half a second, and Todd’s knees went so weak that he silently thanked God that Neil was already holding him up.

Todd could barely process reality as he became aware of Neil’s breath against his lips and holy shit he’s so close and his heart was pounding as he realized the three inches between their faces had shrunk down to two… one…

“N-Neil,” he began to stammer, but he could barely form the word before Neil’s lips were on his.

It was like nothing Todd had ever felt before, like fireworks and electricity deep inside him. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would ever actually get to kiss Neil Perry, and here he was, lips soft and full and delicious, kissing him back more passionately than Todd could have ever dreamed. He felt intoxicated, his knees completely buckling from under him, Neil’s vice grip on his back tighter than ever. Todd never wanted this to end.

The kiss couldn’t have lasted longer than ten seconds, but when the two boys finally pulled apart Todd could have sworn that it lasted at least ten minutes. Dizzy, flustered, and breathless, Todd almost refused to believe that they really just kissed, but when he opened his eyes, there was Neil, looking just as stunned and red-faced as him.

‘Neil?” Todd said softly, hesitantly, looking up into the other boy’s eyes. “Did that really just happen? Did— did you just kiss me?”

Neil nodded, staring so intently at Todd that he almost felt Neil could see inside his head. “You… you kissed me back.”

“Of course I kissed you back,” Todd breathed out, unable to hold back with Neil still holding him like this. “I thought— I mean, I never wanted to assume that you were—”

“I know. I know. I didn’t either—”

“But this means you are—”

“Yes, Todd, I am gay, and—”

Neil was cut off by Todd’s eager lips on his this time, and he melted into the kiss, Todd suddenly feeling vastly more sure of himself than he did a minute ago.

When the kiss broke, Neil’s eyes stayed shut for half a second longer, as if he was trying to process that this was reality, his breaths coming slow and heavy.

“Todd… I… I’ve wanted this for so long,” he finally said, opening his eyes to look at the blond boy.

“You too?” Todd asked breathlessly, still in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Neil said, unable to keep himself from smiling. “I feel like I need to pinch myself.”

“So do I,” said Todd, before suddenly realizing the possible consequences of this. “Neil, but what about your father?���

Neil’s brow furrowed, concerned, before he suddenly and decidedly shook his head. “No. Fuck my father, he’s not taking this away from me too.”

“Are you sure?”

“More than I’ve ever been.”

Todd looked at Neil for a moment, and his mind began to buzz through the realm of possibilities opening up before him now that his feelings were confirmed to be reciprocal. Holy shit. Is this heaven?

“So…” Todd said knowingly, confidence rising. “There’s nobody else in here.”

Neil raised his eyebrows. “That’s true,” he started, a smirk forming on his lips. “What do you suggest we do?”

Todd’s heart skipped a beat, enjoying the building tension. “Clearly, what we should always aim to do.” He looked directly into Neil’s eyes. “Seize the day.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Neil breathed out, pressing his forehead against Todd’s. “Carpe diem.”

And with that, they were kissing again, and Todd knew that from now on, he would never run out of words when it came to describing Neil. This poem had practically written itself.

#let me know if this is completely embarrassing or actually good bc i really dont know anymore #i just love them so goddamn much and i just felt compelled to write something #anderperry #dps #todd anderson #neil perry #dead poets society #neil/todd #dps fanfic #dps fanfiction #dead poets #anderperry fanfic #writing tag

[wannawrite]

Type Of Boyfriend: Lee Euiwoong

who?: Yuehua's Lee Euiwoong genre: 🌸 type: bullet point blog navigator. • how Euiwoong would be as a boyfriend I’m not super good at these but I will try my best! Thank you anon, hope you like it!! And holy shit Euiwoong is going to release music ??? But where are the other 3 + 2 hidden trainees? Smh Yuehua I’m trusting you not to mess up rn.

- Admin L

PS: soulmate AUs are up next ;)

• hmm Lee Euiwoong / Eric pretty much already screams boyfriend material • like do you see his outfits dkshskswi boyfriend • bonus! he is also a really cute squish • when approaching you and in the baby steps of your relationship, he could be quite shy • blushes often and has to pull the hood of his hoodie up the whole time • hesitates to hold your hand or initiate any sort of physical contact • you know, that kind of shyness • especially shy when you’re the one to call or text first 

• but actually • we all know our baby boy here is a savage • once you get past the honeymoon stage, Euiwoong’s roastings and savage sayings are a common thing • not even his best friends are safe from his roasts • sometimes it becomes a full diss track • you know his rap skills are out of this world • he is an amazing rapper • usually, he writes really sad, angsty and depressing raps but for you, he writes cute, lovable raps about summer and sunshine and puppies and generally all good things • mainly bc he is inspired by you so much • writes them in a different, secret notebook • but is exposed by Hyungseob when he accidentally leaves it in his backpack • wh00ps • he either radiates joy or angst there is no in between • but you love him either way • he gets really soft when you visit his workroom with food • more specifically, candy • self-proclaimed sweet tooth • he nearly cries when he wakes up to a ‘good morning’ text every morning • or when you randomly send him a paragraph complimenting him and hoping he’s doing well • savages can be soft okay • Euiwoong would be a big fan of matching couple clothes • whenever he goes shopping, he tries to find a similar item for you • if he can’t, he’ll try his best to DIY the clothing item for you • with the help of Jung Jung and Seunghyuk • because does it look like Justin and Hyungseob will survive threading the needle? • maybe not • “oh my god, what is this?” you ask, lifting out yet another couple shirt of the gift bag, giggling • lowkey, you’re a sucker for them • you guys rock them and kill it at Seoul Fashion Week • photographers swarm you guys, thinking you guys are models • well, Euiwoong kind of is an idol too • that IG couple • yes, all of his 133K followers need to know you two are thriving and looking amazing • and there’s no space for anyone else • takes mirror selfies of your clothes almost too often • his fan base has seen your entire closet • DIY prints his rap lyrics on shirts and gifts one of them to you for your birthday • it’s all you ever wear now and Euiwoong can’t wipe the smug look off his face • speaking of faces, this boy is SO handsome • and he knows it, too well in fact • narcissism is off the charts • “ahh, Y/N, I’m definitely the prettier one in this relationship” • “you’re more beautiful on the inside though” • “wait i’m sorry you know I lo - like you” • also really cautious when saying the L word • he’s just waiting for the right time • and so are you • gives you fashion advice like a professional stylist • “no, you should style it with a barrette and not a baseball cap” • this is how you won ‘best dressed’ in Senior year • he hypes himself but not as much as he hypes you • “yassss! that’s my baby!” he yells as he’s recording you admire your outfit in the mirror • makes sure to get all the angles • including your ‘glamorous’ ones, he saves the photos in the ‘blackmail’ album on his phone • “omg babe stop” • he thinks the world of you and never hesitates you reassure you look amazing • “of course you look good, I put that outfit together” • then he kisses the top of your head affectionally • “also because you are such a wonderful person, inside and out.” • give me a minute :”) • Euiwoong is truly an intellectual • You envy him, he’s pretty much the smartest student in the entire school • always makes Dean’s List • everyone loves him • always first in class, while you’re tearing up your report cart littered with mediocre grades • after seeing your upset face, Euiwoong wraps you in his arms and pressing a kiss to your cheek • “aww babe, don’t worry. grades are just a number” • wow okay that didn’t really make you feel any better but • he beams at you, “never fear, I’ll tutor you. You’ll get better in no time. I know you’re really smart” • he’s that kind of guy to draw up a schedule then half-heartedly sticks to it • but he is determined to pull up your F9s to A1s • he’s trying his best pls save him • kisses you awake when you’re falling asleep as he drones on about math • “hey, wake up. we’re almost done, hang in there” • you muster up whatever strength you have and finish up the last couple of sums he assigned you • you’re so tired you end up falling asleep on his shoulder once you’re done with the work • Euiwoong buries you in his hoodie and rubs your back affectionately • luckily, he decided to tutor you at your house and not at the library • so it’s easy to get you into bed • smiles at the sight of sleepy you, you’re very cute 24/7 • he’s packing up to leave when you reach out and grab his wrist • “don’t go.” • anD HE JUST BECOMES A SOFT MESS • “the last bus has left, it’s past midnight already.” you mumble, half asleep • Euiwoong just melts knowing that you care about him, you know he takes bus 152 from the bus stop across the street from your house • but the last bus has gone and it’s too dangerous for him to walk home, especially alone • protect boys too okay • Euiwoong sighs, “well, what do you want me to do then?” • in response, you open your arms wide, inviting him to cuddle • he’s a little more hesitant because he knows your family is around and he’s afraid they’ll get a bad impression of him after that • like why are you in bed with my child wtf what game are you playing • but he eventually succumbs and cuddles you to sleep • it’s super toasty, Euiwoong + comforter + hoodie, perfect for battling the Autumn cold outside • you’re sad he’s gone before you wake up but the post-its on your mirror make you smile again • “you look beautiful all the time” • “I’ll take you to Sephora next week since you’re running low on products” • “my baby always glows” • BLUSH BLUSH BLUSH • Euiwoong loves the heck out of you • and now, your family does too • he stayed long enough to help your parents to prepare breakfast while chatting with them • ah yes they claim Lee Euiwoong as their son-in-law from now on • cliche but for your birthday....remember all those raps he wrote for you because of you • he spends extra time in the studio to produce, record and burn them in a mixtape for you, with the help of his hyungs of course • also available in a digital version • “damn, Euiwoong never made me something so special,” Jung Jung complains but ruffles the younger boy’s hair adoringly • you thought you were surprised when he whipped out the tape • you nearly scream in shock when you analyse his raps • the baddie image has been shed • thE AMOUNT OF SWEETNESS AND FLUFF • nO ONE COULD EVER • iT’S ALL LOVE AND MORE LOVE AND MORE CUTE THINGS ABOUT YOU UGH • when will I ever find someone who will treat me like this • after much coding, you realise that the first letter of each title put together spells ‘My Love For You’ • 12 days of Christmas who? I got 12 raps of how much my boyfriend loves me • you have never been confessed to this way. no one has ever put in so much effort into proclaiming their love for you • Lee Euiwoong is the perfect boyfriend, of course, he does have his shortcomings • like his short temper that strikes on occasion and savage sayings • but you love him for who he is and there really isn’t any other way around it • 10/10 the best boyfriend

#Admin L #produce 101 #produce 101 scenarios #yuehua trainees #yuehua sprouts #lee euiwoong #justin huang #choi seunghyuk #jung jung #zhu zheng ting #ahn hyungseob

[jeonfinite]

end of the year fic meme

total number of completed stories: 5 total word count: 51225

Overall Thoughts Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I wrote way more than I predicted bc I never thought I’d produce fic at all, but I actually published a oneshot or chapter at least once a month since june. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? I would’ve never guessed I would become 100% certified jinkook trash this yr and would’ve laughed in your face if you told me otherwise lmao. I didn’t even know who jungkook was until feb!! in fact despite always having a soft spot for bts and following all of their music releases I was like actually ‘I don’t think I’ll ever truly stan them’ lmfao. my life is a joke. What’s your own favorite story of the year? forever yours. it’s basically everything I ever want to happen in a fic. seokjin as an academy award winning actor? jinkook writing a song together? jinkook going on cute dates and continually supporting the other as they fall deeper in love? ugh my heart. the idea is so dear to me and it’s my baby. and even tho bangtan disbanded in the fic, they all found their own success and they’re rly close friends. I fucking love the ending too omg. I did my best to make it rly gratifying and make up for all the stuff jungkook went through earlier. plus I love fics based on idol/band verse, canon/divergence/future fic and I liked weaving in canon elements to it. it makes it feel more real imo.

Did you take any writing risks this year? uh, not rly? other than writing and publishing my first fic ever. and I guess actually shading big hit/bang pd lmao. as far as I know of, no one has done that before? and multiple ppl have called me brave for doing so lol. Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

to try to write longer fics I guess. there’s this 10k fic I’ve been planning forever but still haven’t gotten around to even tho I kept meaning to write it next lol.

From my past year of writing what was… My best story of this year: definitely forever yours. honestly sometimes I feel like it’s my peak lmfao. like I will never able to match some of those descriptions ever again. whenever I’m struggling to write something and I go back to it I’m like HOW DID I WRITE THIS?? and when ppl tell me I’ve made them cry and laugh omg. I almost don’t believe it. I don’t think any of my fics have elicited such a reaction and I think it’s the one that affected me most. I hurt my own non existent heart. My most popular story of this year: forever yours lmao. not only does it have the most hits/kudos/comment/bookmarks, but it’s the fic I most often see ppl reccing, screaming about, and quoting on twitter. I love it tho. pls continue screaming about it and @ me!! The story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: lights go on again. it’s gotten the least attention of all my fics so far. idk if it’s bc ppl are sick of me already or if I rly offended that many ppl by insulting their precious bang pd oppa lmao. also yo where all the jin stans at? I thought at least they’d appreciate its contents lmao.

but also rollin’ the deep bc I actually like that one a lot now and it’s the second least popular lol. but it’s on par with light me up and I expected that based on the content. ofc the fics with jin winning an oscar and shitting on the mother/son trope would gain the most traction so I’m not surprised. The most fun story to write:

us against the world! the idea of everyone hitting on jin and jungkook getting jealous was too good to pass up. I had so much fun writing taehyung’s scene omfg. I actually started it with it lmfao and it seems like most ppl agree. hoseok’s always makes me laugh and ngl I feel like a genius whenever I reread that fic lol. :’) definitely my peak humor and probably the funniest/crackiest thing I’ll ever write.

Story with single sweetest moment?

it’s a tie with forever yours’ birthday scene and light me up’s christmas decorations. but overall rollin’ the deep made me melt the most with how overwhelming sweet it was. I live for soft sweet jinkook doing grossly romantic things for each other ok. The story with the single sexiest moment:

jungkook wearing lingerie in light me up, definitely :x tho the smut scene in forever yours is infinitely better imo. I will unfortunately never able to write a smut scene that good again but I think it’s the intimacy of the moment and the way it’s written that makes it so special, hence why I like it so much. The most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

idk? me attempting smut even tho I’m terrible at it? quoting myself I actually said “writing sex is honestly so hard already I would never waste my time writing it just for the sake of it if it didn’t have any meaning” yet the smut in light me up was the first scene I started writing. I am a goddamn hypocrite lol. but it’s sth I thought I’d never be able to write bc a few years ago I would get so embarrassed by the idea and would want to throw myself off a cliff at the thought lol. The story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

none of them rly. I just write jinkook like I how see them. their interactions just come so naturally to me that it’s one of the easiest and most fun things to write in my fics. The hardest story to write: honestly… light me up. all my fics get rly hard to write one point and I always start off hating the first drafts bc they’re complete garbage but I fucking suffered the most writing that one. literally took fucking forever to wrangle the sex scene into what it was. it was hot ass fragmented mess that I had to slowly unravel and reorganize one sentence at a time. I didn’t even want to look at it bc it was so bad lol. and two of the most pivotal points; the lights  and lingerie were awful at first so I struggled to make them good enough to rly stand out and to a standard I was pleased with. and transitioning the first scene into the second one where jinkook kiss under the snowfall and the ending were fucking hell too. you can ask kaleidotears, I was bitching to her the entire time lmao. albeit vaguely bc I didn’t want to spoil anything. I started a month in advance bc it usually takes me that long to produce something and as the date approached closer I was lowkey panicking and almost thought I wouldn’t make it lol. The biggest disappointment:

lights go on again. not only is the reception lackluster compared to my other fics, but it’s honestly the weakest thing I’ve written so far. I’m seriously considering orphaning it but idk :( The biggest surprise: idk. I was honestly fucking shellshocked when us against the world got over 1000 hits in less than 24 hrs tho. I never expected that kind of reaction, especially for my very first ever fic. I honestly thought no one would want to read my fics lol. but also when ppl say I’m their favorite or one of their favorite authors?? like in what in the hell. I consider myself an amateur bc I have never written consistently before in my life. I’m new to the whole fic writing scene. I’ve actually spent the majority of my life hating my writing lmao. or when ppl praise things I think I’m shit at lol. I also like rollin’ in the deep a lot more than I thought I would considering it was just a dumb fluff piece to satisfy my thirst. I wrote the first 1300 words in a waiting room and I was like I don’t have to make this perfect bc it’s stupid fluff but I legit melted writing it. oh and publishing the first chapter of forever yours in two weeks after my first fic. how in the hell did I ever write 9k that quickly I will unfortunately never able to do that again.

The most unintentionally telling story:

I’m not sure what this even means? a lot of myself does bleed into my stories I think. like even if the mood varies depending on the scene I feel like my voice carries through? they just sound like me and it’s something that can’t be repicated lol. like my fics have a shit ton of cussing which is part of it lmao. but also sometimes I give jinkook aspects of myself like seokjin doing aegyo and being clingy when drunk (which is actually real omfg I’m a genius sorry) and jungkook not realizing when other ppl like him. also by reading my fics you can tell which groups I stan, what foods I like, etc. and ofc when I start waxing poetic about their looks or voices or talents that’s all me lol. Highlights + Wrap-up Favorite Opening Line(s): “And the Academy Award for Best Actor goes to… Kim Seokjin!” — forever yours; ch1 twenty four

The world is fucking taunting Jungkook.— forever yours; ch2 fiction

Jungkook feels sick. Bile mounts up his throat; it tastes like bitterness, hurt, betrayal, anger, resentment, and heartbreak, flowing through him in chaotic discord. His voice breaks underneath the staggering weight. — forever yours; ch3 smile, again

they’re all from forever yours lmao. the first one is for very obvious reasons but the other two I find the most riveting. I tend to start my fics with dialogue or with “seokjin/jungkook …” bc I’m so creative lol Favorite Closing Line(s): they lose themselves in each other until the world fades till there’s nothing but seokjin and jungkook, just their mouths and bodies and hearts uniting into one against the world. — us against the world

I’m forever yours. — forever yours

I like connecting the endings to my titles clearly lmao. but those endings are the strongest and the ones  I’m most proud of. the other ones are all kind of similar and end with jinkook in a bed saying I love you haha. Favorite 5 10 Lines from Anywhere:

it’s relatively quiet outside and the weather is beautiful; the clear, azure skies provide an obstructed pathway for the gleaming sunshine to burn the foliage in a palette of fiery crimsons, rich golds, and vibrant oranges. the oppressive summer heat has finally faded into a cool, refreshing breeze with the advent of autumn. seokjin tugs jungkook into his side for a surge of warmth as they amble towards the car, the crisp air nipping at their skin, rustling through his bunny ears, and fallen leaves crunching beneath their feet. — rollin’ in the deep

Snowfall blankets the landscape like an instagram filter, casting a creamy, dreamy lighting over the scenery. It looks like they stepped into a fairytale. — light me up

Jungkook hums sweetly, toying with the strands of hair behind Seokjin’s nape. The melody is so soft and sweet like a souffle that Seokjin wants to devour it—so he does, capturing Jungkook’s lips and licking the inside of his mouth. — light me up

The parade marches through as they eat, a symphony of prismatic floats and musical instruments decorating Main Street with whimsy. Seokjin sways alongside the music and Jungkook joins him, their bubbling giggles adding another layer of sound to the percussion. — forever yours

Seokjin is so beautiful but he’s never been more gorgeous than when his chiseled, naked body and pink strands glisten with sweat while thrusting deeply into Jungkook, dark eyes smouldering with lust and headiness, handsome face contorted in concentration intent on pleasuring Jungkook, and plush, pretty, pink mouth falling open as melodic sounds escape his lips, sweeter than his blessed high notes. It’s too much for Jungkook. — forever yours

“You’re gorgeous. My beautiful baby boy. Sweet marshmallow bunny.” — light me up

the bright white of the headband contrasts with his dark hair, haloing a soft crown of light around him, and coupled with the afterglow of his orgasm, he looks angelic. seokjin tells him as much and he flushes a pretty pink, a perfect complement to his ivory rabbit ears. — rollin’ in the deep

jungkook licks his lips as they stroll past a lone vendor selling hotteok, and when seokjin kisses him, cornering him in the enshrouding, secluded thicket of maple trees, seokjin tastes sweet like brown sugar, like cinnamon, like the warming comfort of fall spices and home-baked treats. — rollin’ in the deep

It’s empty this late at night, their only company being the summer breeze rustling through their clothes and the mild rippling of the waves. The water glitters beautifully underneath the stars in the darkness but it pales in comparison to the way the moonlight dances off Seokjin’s freshly dyed pastel hair to illuminate his gorgeous features. He looks magical, bright eyes sparkling and pink strands shimmering. — forever yours

The kiss is everything Jungkook dreamed and fantasized about but beyond his imagination. Seokjin tastes like coffee and chocolate and cream, their dessert lingering on his tongue, and Jungkook licks up every last morsel of flavor. He can’t get enough; Seokjin is so sweet and soft and warm against him like a freshly baked cake. He’s addicted. He wants more. — forever yours

also the iconic:

“Fuck PDogg hyung and Bang PD hyung” — forever yours

you know what this is too fucking hard. I’ll do a separate post with my top 5 lines from each fic. these are just 10 lines I’m particularly fond of and rly wanted to highlight bc no one else has.

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

1. JUNGKOOK WEARING LINGERIE AND BUNNY EARS but particularly the part with jungkook sitting on seokjin’s lap growling he’s sexy and seokjin laughing at him for being adorable. literally if my drawing skills were good enough and I had a tablet I would fucking illustrate this myself

2. seokjin gifting jungkook diamond studs on the balcony underneath fairy lights and the seoul night sky

3. jinkook kissing under the snowfall and surrounded by christmas lighting + decorations

4. jinkook holding hands while walking outside in the fall foliage and seokjin kissing jungkook in a thicket of maple trees

5. JINKOOK PERFORMING THEIR FUCKING DUET AT JUNGKOOK’S SOLO CONCERT

+ bonus sakura petals swirling around seokjin with seokjin cornering jungkook against a tree to swipe stray ice cream off his lips and licking it off his thumb and watching the fireworks at disneyland with seokjin’s head nestled onto jungkook’s shoulder and arms wrapped around his waist.

Fic-writing goals for 2018: to finally write the ideas on my ever growing list. my last three were completely unplanned and were random spur of the moments. but I wanted to write something for jin’s bday. I could’ve written something short from my list but I wanted to do christmas lights and jungkook in lingerie so :x also to take my sweetass time until I’m perfectly happy with everything before publishing and not rushing out fics anymore. I’ve learned that when I try to write something as fast as possible for others—it goes wholly unappreciated like the last chapter of forever yours and light me up. like half of the original commenters disappeared despite finally getting the happy ending they cried for and being so excited for the fic? lol idk what happened but there’s no way I could’ve messed up the last chapter that badly… but yeah it’s just not worth the stress lmao. ppl just don’t understand the effort, time, and pain it goes into producing something.

#jinkook #writing #meme

[bigbrotherorre]

EPISODE SIX: “IF ONE MORE PERSON TRIES TO BUILD THE PEACE IN THIS HOUSE I'M GOING TO THROW THEM THROUGH THE CLOSEST POSSIBLE WINDOW” - ALIVIA HOH: SAMMY EVICTED: RANDY - 7 TO 4

So... as expected Ricky went and I'm in mourning. I love Ricky SOO much! with my WHOLE hort. Otherwise, this HoH comp is AWFUL, everyone is gonna be FIGHTING. For this week, I would like a Bryce/Jose HoH because I think I'd be safe and because they'd go after Blake/Alivia/Lynn. HOWEVER, then next week, I'd like Alivia to win HoH and get Randy out because I do NOT trust Randy. Basically, provided I can get past this week with all the messy twists... I feel cautiously optimistic? Like I'm playing both sides and hopefully that'll work to my advantage? Eek we will seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Another day another lost comp

SO, tea time with Ali! Except... not really. I'm literally about to set a BB Pokemon record because it is literally week 6 and I'm in 0 ALLIANCES. This is a MESSY MESS MESS. I wanna be in alliances, I want safety. Meanwhile, conspiracy corner... John was given the Jigglypuff, he didn't play it. The phrasing on the wiki & the posts were all.... off. I think Randy gave it to him, but I also feel like everything sketchy that happens is.... by Randy. Like I think Randy is the bot, and Randy is being this cracked mess... According to Sammy at least, the bot is now sending fake screenshots? WHAT KIND OF CRACKED JUJU IS THIS. I dont love this at all asjlkdfa In other news, Bryce & Jose _will_ be this season's F2 and I will not accept otherwise. Bryce is such a solid ally, like he is so sane, so nice, so good. Jose is the love of my life lkjafdsa, he is SO SWEET. like a good, wholesome boy right there is Jose. I LOVE THEM BOTH, THOSE ARE MY BOYS. I am a feminist, but I will convert to meninism if it means my faves make F2. ANYWHOMST. I love the hosts, Dennis added me to his Havana host chat and idk why he did that, since he _totally_ lays out his strategy in that... why did he do that, I am always booboo the fool but he can take that title from me for today. and thats how sue sees it, bye for now woooooooooooooooo!

I think I'm going home this week and I'm really worried. Like really worried, I've played badly and I'm now really expendable, and people are gonna send me home i literally spent a total of like 6 hours prepping for veto and I still screwed it up. I got 9 songs in like 7 minutes, but it took me like 30 more to find the last one ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (unfaithful by rihanna will literally be my downfall). I'm really scared. I think I would have Autumn & Jose's votes, but against Ashvika I think thats when it dries up askjldfa. I'm really really scared, I'm not ready to go home, I am such a bad player :( I don't even feel like Bryce is in my corner anymore, and I think Autumn could keep Ashvika like except for Jose I feel so alone :( I love Jose so much, I'm so lucky to have him in this game with me, but I'm also so scared :( I'm not ready to go home :( But I've let myself down and played badly.

Can y'all believe my son Samuel future nominated me and I get to sit here in peace? Maybe we're related after all I'm so used to being nominated it doesn't even phase me. Like I forget that you can actually go home because I.... can't relate. People are freeeaaking the fuck out and I'm just chilling, knowing my ass is immune and that my silver power of veto will snatch wigs. So to pass the time I'm currently on call with my new alliance, Jose and Ali, and Ali is legit shitting himself I feel terrible. But like it's fine cause I pulled him off, he just doesn't know yet. I'm honestly just ecstatic that everyone I love is gonna be safe- me, Sammy, Ash, Ali, John. I really just need Jose to not get nominated and then this streak of ugly weeks will come to an end wooooo

im just... not a fan of ppl  SJDJHFSJDK everyone has such annoying ideas and im like... u do u but maybe dont!! Everyone keeps having opinions that are different than mine??? like cut it out. dennis cant literally do the bare minimum and not come across as sketchy for 1 second, and he also cant campaign to stay apparently??? hes a lot to deal with. and then randy is coming at me/sammy/zeezo and trying to seem smart for doing so, like wow you got us! go home maybe!! alivia has been very volatile all week and i have to deal with it. and ali is snapping because he thinks he would have gone home which i hope wouldnt have happened but i also dont know b/c theres an assumption that he isnt playing the game b/c hes vague and he might have went home because of it. but now he is being vague again and i think its prob b/c randy is campaigniing to him and trying to paint me/zeezo/sammy as a trio. when honestly we arent even.. theyre like a duo and im there!! also im a lynn warrior but we never talk so its awk. and also ali ratted to randy that if he wants to stay he needs LAB's vote and now alivia is mad he brought her name up and ugh ppl are doing so MUCH. also dennis just msg'd me like do i have ur vote?? who's voting me. MAYBE TALK TO PPL MORE AND NOT BE SKETCHY AND I WOULDNT HAVE TO BE THE MIDDLE MAN.

[ONE HOUR LATER]

omg..  i didnt mean those mean words. i love everyone in this cast. ali is so nice and trustworthy. alivia is feisty and full of energy, always keeping the game fun. dennis is actually like real fun to talk to and always feigns interest in w/e im saying (EXCEPT WHEN HE LIED ABOUT NOT HAVING LEGALLY BLONDE ON NETFLIX WHEN I KNOW HE DID). And randy has made this game so exciting!!!

[ONE HOUR LATER]

I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID ABOUT ALI. HE IS FAKE FAKE FAKE SO FAKE FAKE FAKE. SAYS HE DOESNT KNOW WHOS HE VOTING AND CAMPAIGNS TO KEEP RANDY AND DUMB DUMB DUMB  JOSE FALLS FOR IT. IF RANDY STAYS IM SCREAMING

[30 MINUTES LATER]

i am so sad for randy he really wanted this and dennis is kind of ugh to work with but randy was just too scary. he had the best exit so far tho and ill miss him so much. ALI CHOKE AHAHHAHAHA YOU THOUGHT!! ALIGNING ALL THE FLOATERS NOPE!!! TRY AGAIN.  I LOVE ALI BUT I WAS LITERALLY SCREAMING B/C LIKE 5 MINUTES BEFORE THE VOTE ZEEZO IS LIKE DONT TELL ANYONE BUT ALI CONVINCED JOSE TO VOTE DENNIS OUT. SIDE NOTE i love john!!! he is so nice and ratted jose out like wig!!

woo okay soooo i haven’t been able to make one of these in awhile cause I’m on vacation so i apologize if this is long....so to sum up everything I won hoh with the help of zeezo and Bryce. I had to nom ali and ashvika because i knew it wouldn’t cause that much drama. Then....they both got taken off so I nommed Dennis and Randy. I wanted randy gone from the getgo because he is very smart and sneaky. I’m pretty sure he was behind the Nicolas Julia account as well which really made me upset. He also never responded to me but would tell ppl to pm him and yeah. Other than that, the conversations i did have with him were great, and he’s super nice and even made me the birthday video. I just wasn’t too close with him. I just made up a random excuse for Dennis because I had to hide the fact I’m in an alliance with Kat and Jose but also zeezo and Bryce. and alivia and John couldn’t have been nommed....so if i had to make another nomination it would’ve been Lynn and Bryce....so that would’ve been very very bad for me because like I’m also close to blake so i can’t nom him. Anyway randy was crying on call and it made me super super sad and i felt like a bad Person so i was like wow:/ I have to decide which alliance I’m gonna choose but it might be zeezo and Bryce because like Jose and Kat don’t tell me everything and don’t like agree with me about votes and i think ali autumn Jose and Kat voted Dennis. Idk I’m just so done haha 

if one more person tries to build the peace in this house i'm going to throw them through the closest possible window. i honestly feel like ali and dennis might have accidentally stumbled into the wrong game bc this is bb pokemon not whatever snowflake athena series you probably came from. i've tried to help ali throughout this game and explain to him that this isn't some summer camp where you braid each other's hair and make friendship bracelets but the kid just doesn't get it. i give up, and i think we need to focus on getting all the snowflakes and fatties out of this house as soon as possible. right now in the game i think that i might actually be in a pretty okay place. the house seems to be pretty divided vote after vote. there's the scammers, bryce, ashvika, sammy, and zeezo vs. the fatties: jose, john, ali, kat, and autumn. and as of now we outweigh the other house so we have a pretty good unofficially aligned group going here so hopefully we can keep that going!

CAST ASSESSMENT

#episode #bborre

[ernestinadycus3-blog]

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