#I wish that I could keep you in a precious Chinese box

[darkseed-two]

me.withnmikes period blood

[daylight-stars]

I wish that I could keep you in a precious Chinese box

I want to mess your pretty hair i want to see you dead

(Two highlights)

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

[goldemas1244]

Heyyyy I have a question :3

Do you have any headcanon/s for these character : Scraptrap, Scrap Baby, Lady Dimistrecu, the three daughter of Lady D, Heisenberg and/or Molten Freddy ? :3

You don't have to do all the proposition, you can choose what character you want to do :3

Have a good day/evening and stay safe ! :3

*Cracks knuckles* \(^v^)/

You already know I'm doing all of them! Thank you for the ask! Headcanons under the cut!

FNaF6

Scraptrap

He loves rice and would do anything to get his paws on it. Fortunately, the pizzeria is quite close to a Chinese restaurant so rice is easy to get.

He orders a rice-based menu at least three times a week, so the owners aren't at all that surprised to see a tuxedo-clad zombie-rabbit come in and ask for their signature fried rice with buttered lobster on the side.

Since he like to dine-in there, he usually asks Michael to give him a bath in exchange for pizzeria improvements. Michael usually shrugs and gives him a well-deserved bubble bath and his tuxedo.

He likes it when Michael gives him head pats and rubs. It makes him feel loved and appreciated.

He has a pet pigeon named Fernando Buschmann. It's German and likes to listen to the violin.

He likes ASMR and memes. ASMR makes him go feral with murderous intent while memes make him question the modern generation.

He has social media accounts, all named "Willton-Moldover". He usually posts cosplays and furry art on them and has 93 followers on his Reddit profile, 1.5 million followers on his Instagram, 550 followers on his Tumblr, 35 on his Snapchat, and 3.95 million on his TikTok.

He also has a YouTube channel with 10.784 million subscribers called "Willton-Gameover". He plays videogames one-handed and roasts popular YouTubers and famous people. He would never roast Keanu Reeves though, because Keanu Reeves is precious bean.

Due to his popularity he gets a lot of hate mail and private pics. He doesn't like them at all so he blackmails the people who post them. And if the media and police are involved? Well, he has a strong fanbase that's not going down as well as a good alibi so that works out well for him.

Yes, his fanbase also knows of the Fazbear Murders, and he admits to it but frankly, he's shown them the approving ghost kids (who've bonded and gamed with him) so that's no big deal. Only Cassidy hates him, but it's usually constipated anger.

He's bisexual and has an ENORMOUS crush on one of his favourite game characters, Karl Heisenberg. Something about that man reminds him of himself and Henry, although he's not sure what. Still, don't let that distract you from the fact that he owns a nude Karl Heisenberg body pillow, CAPCOM official.

Scrap Baby

Her favourite Monster High doll is Draculaura. She doesn't understand how pink goes well with black but oh boy, pink goes so well with black.

She knows how to skateboard like a pro. Despite her weight, her trusty skateboard still stands and, if she falls, she's always got her skates to spare. She likes to impress the boys at the skatepark with her ability to perform even the most difficult of moves with ease.

She's subscribed to fifteen different tabloid subscriptions. She likes to read them and criticize the stupidity of the human race, like her father. Hey, it's hereditary.

The lights in her boobies glow in the dark. They also glow whenever she gets tired.

She likes reading furniture and gardening catalogues. She's judgy of the prices though and usually becomes a full-on critic with Lefty listening.

She owns a crab named Mr. Tootie. No I will not elaborate on the name. I'll only tell you that it's taken a liking to kazoos and party favours.

She's listed as the No. 1 Best Fan of her father's social media accounts. Michael's in nineteenth place but don't worry, he's as emotionless as a mushroom.

She likes to make origami lotuses. She's such a pro at it that she's even got a mini-stall at the pizzeria: 1 lotus for 50 cents. It's a lucrative business, and it's still growing. Oh, and she switches to other origami works of art every week such as origami guns and origami nine-tailed foxes.

She's the Restaurant Rescue manager. Usually she saves kids from trouble. For this reason, yes, she's commonly seen in the pizzeria itself. Kids love her though the claw worries the more irksome parents.

She's a professional Karen dealer. Karen comes to see the manager? She's hypnotically talented in weaving her words through the toughest of craniums so don't be surprised if a Karen walks out with a new viewpoint of life.

She performs on stage on the occasion, which usually gets her a lot of fan love. She cherishes everything good they give but ignores the problematic everythings. Problematic stuff? Oh, she's good friends with the police chief.

Molten Freddy

He loves noodles. Give him a bowl of ramen and he'll shut up for the entire night. Enter him in a noodle-eating competition and his high metabolism rate means absolutely non-stop spaghetti.

He misses Bon-Bon very much. To the point where he's even tried to make a scrap version of him. Sadly, it doesn't work. He cried that day.

He dies inside whenever he finds out there's a spaghetti shortage in Utah. Poor Molten.

He's a bit wonky, but if he tries to play with you or get into your personal space, don't get mad at him! He's just lonely and wants someone to talk to and play with.

He likes to play Exploding Kittens. It's the only card game he's good at. It's also the only card game he owns.

He sees Helpy as a little brother and boops his nose on a daily basis. He also likes to reenact The Lion King with him (It's the ciiiiiircle of liiiiiife~). Hopefully Helpy doesn't mind.

He knows a lot of jokes in a lot of languages. So German-speaking Molten Freddy wouldn't be too far away from expectation. His favourite jokes are in French though; the wordplay is just immaculate.

He's good in French, English, German, Russian, and Malay. He's currently learning Japanese because he's a mega weeb.

His favourite cartoon is Charlie and Lola. He just likes to see the sibling shenanigans as it somehow reminds him of the good old days.

His favourite shows would be prankster shows. He especially loves the ones that give him new and creative ideas. He doesn't like the scary ones though. They make him feel unsafe and give him anxiety.

Surprisingly, he has a distinct taste for opera. He can modulate the remnants of his voice box to perfectly sing I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major-General. This both pisses off and impresses Henry to an extent.

Resident Evil 8

Lady Dimitrescu

She might act like the opposite but she really loves Heisenberg as her little brother. His determination, strength, speed, dexterity, and workaholic nature impresses her, who can't even fit through a doorway. She sometimes wishes she's as short as him too.

She's an avid collector of glass, porcelain, and anything fragile. It's a good reason to always be careful where you tread in her lair. She'll make you swallow every last shard if you don't.

She's an avid romance fanatic and is very loving towards the romance novels she owns. All those books you see in the in-game library? They're her collection of lesbian romances that she's collected over the past decades.

She doesn't like hats and prefers to stick to the one she wears in-game. She DOES have a collection of hats though. Last anyone counted, there were over fifty, one or two for each decade she's lived through.

She files her nails on a constant basis and owns an ornately decorated nail-clipper. Hygeine is of the utmost importance. She doesn't want to be compared to that filthy Heisenberg.

Despite her size and carefulness she keeps losing her stuff. Over the course of a week she could misplace three wine glasses, two reading glasses, and fifteen bottles of wine.

She's an expert at dodgeball and golf and even owns a lifetime access to the most prolific Country Club in Romania. With permission from Mother Miranda she goes there every year for the yearly party. It's one of the times she gets to see modernity (and Ed Sheeran) at its finest.

She loves bands from the 1920s and 1940s. However, she gets bored of them occasionally and switches them to something more modern, like Ed Sheeran. Seriously though, what is up with mums and Ed?

She's into executions and torture methods. So it's no surprise that she's a HUGE fan of Horrible Histories; even if she can't watch the show, she'll binge-read the books over and over again. She's even had the chance to encounter (and receive an autograph from) Terry Deary. They have sworn a bond not to tell anybody about this.

She loves exotic animals like anacondas and jaguars. She may or may not have owned a 10ft long Saltwater Crocodile (which was also about 5ft wide).

She's an incredible physicist and mathematician. She's also created many original formulae but unsurprisingly, she doesn't tell anyone about them, for fear that either more people may know of her, or that she may be wrong.

Dimitrescu Babes

They can devour an entire human being in mere seconds as flies. It's sort of like the scarab beetles in The Mummy movies. However, unlike the beetles, they are able to strip the bones as well. They leave nothing behind.

They all know how to play the piano with varying levels of success. Daniela can already play professionally while Bela is still stuck on Grade 5.

They love to listen to their mother when she tells them stories. Gotta hand it to 'em, when you're a fly, you know how to enjoy life in its most simple of moments.

They all love being around the hunky Soldats of Uncle Karl. Fortunately, they don't know of the rebellious plan to conquer Miranda.

Bela is bisexual, Cassandra is asexual and pansexual, and Daniela is demisexual.

It gets hard when you're a fly during the summer. If it's not the lizards, spiders, and other predators, it's the heat. Because of this, despite the material waste, they have invented the world's first blood-powered air conditioner.

The three girls have never ever ever touched a stove or oven in their life. They HAVE touched the hot end of an iron though. A good reason to not touch a bloody oven. Alcina has though, but doesn't tell them that.

They love puppies! Uncle Karl brought them a baby labrador. For the rest of the week Alcina had lost quite a bit of favour from them. Not that they minded of course. IT'S A PUPPY.

They don't like snow one bit. Not just because it's cold, but because it's too white. Too bright. Too shiny. They just can't focus on their prey!

They like to go over to Auntie Donna to play with Angie. Well, you know what they say, crazies attract the crazies, and the crazy has attracted the crazies.

They also like to go to Uncle Moreau's because he's the only one in the village with a PS4. Usually they'd spend about three-quarters of a day playing his games and eating his cheese.

Karl Heisenberg

He owns a dark blue armchair named Junkyard. Despite the name, he loves it dearly because it was a gift from Alcina for his twenty-first birthday. It became part of his final transformation too. Right under the hat.

He's a little blind in the right eye, much to his annoyance. It was a minor accident with Sturm; another reason for him to hate the uncontrollable wretch. He'll never live that day down.

Somehow, he sees better in the dark, which is why he wears such tinted glasses. He also wears them to hide his expressions, since, more often than not, he tends to end up wearing his heart on his sleeve, and his emotions in his eyes.

He's under a lot of pressure so it's no surprise that he breaks down in his factory when he knows he's alone. And by break down I mean crumple into an exhausted heap on the floor. Not even his Soldat Jet squad can wake him up until he's had a reasonable eight hours of rest.

He bathes once a day, every evening, but only three times a week. Perfume, tobacco, and cologne keep care of the rest.

He's the only Lord with a daily contact with the outside world due to his electrical abilities. Don't tell Miranda, but he can electrically CONNECT TO GOOGLE AND THE ENTIRE INTERNET IN GENERAL. He likes to play funny YouTube cat videos in his head when Miranda's having a boring meeting. It's also how he finds out that Chris is a boulder-punching asshole.

He does stimming! He likes to tap his fingers on his desk and the metal rails in his factory. He also buys stim toys from the Duke and keeps them in a well-kept box. His favourite is a non-ripping squishable toy duck. He also sings to chill out.

He's absolutely in the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise, and may have once believed in the pizzeria's existence. Come on, he's a mutated Overlord with magical magnet powers. Children souls stuck inside animatronics isn't too far-fetched of an idea. His favourite characters are the Funtimes and the Scraps, mainly because of the blueprint complexity. He HAS tried to replicate the animatronics in his spare time, but he's usually too busy with his Soldats so the project gets scrapped. He loves The Living Tombstone's songs and remixes though.

He doesn't like William Afton at all (though he marvels at his survivability). William's nature and habits remind him of Mother Miranda. He DOES however enjoy Michael Afton and often thinks how it would be absolutely amazing to have that resilient being in his Soldat army.

He's scared of what lurks below the watery depths and fire. Ironic because his brother is a literal fish and he works in one of the most hazardous fire-conducting environments. He's also scared of heights, though he doesn't get airsick.

He once died due to a killing electric shock whilst working on Sturm. It's the only time he's felt that sort of pulsing agony and also the first time he's had the confirmation that yes, Hell is real and yes, he'll end up in quite a dark pit in it. Or it could've been an electric dream, who knows? Anyways his soul apparently ran towards the opposite direction of the flames and he woke up alive after the passing of FIVE ENTIRE WEEKS. Oh boy did Alcina get worried when she couldn't find him.

Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy!

[fruityutas]

heart-shaped box

taglist ~ @puppywritings , @xiaojours , @svchengss , @prettyjaems​ 

part of @du0tine​ ‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab

cannibal!stalker!sicheng x reader

not proofread

genre ~ horror, angst, suggestive but no smut

wc ~ 2.5k

warnings ~ the following writing is FICTION and has very heavy and unsettling themes like murder, stalking, and cannibalism. if these themes are triggering or otherwise uncomfortable to you, do NOT read this story.

synopsis ~ you meet sicheng unexpectedly when out for groceries. he seems to be the most normal person in the room, but what you don’t know can’t hurt you, can it?

the basis of all life is the heart. it beats so we can have oxygen delivered to our organs. it is precious and works hard to let us live. one must protect it at all costs, never let it weaken, not even from love.

sicheng walks the aisles of the store slowly, inspecting each item, analyzing its contents. he keeps his focus until it’s interrupted by a sweet voice. yours. “excuse me?” his gaze floats to meet yours. you stood before him, smiling shyly. “can i help you?” sicheng stands straight, his figure taller than you’d expected. “um, i just need help getting that box of cereal off the top shelf.” his eyes follow your arm up to the top shelf, the cereal clearly out of reach for you. he grabs it and hands it to you. “thank you so much! i really didn’t want to climb the shelves.” the giggle that accompanies your statement makes his ears turn red. sicheng is enthralled by you, your scent, the soft tendrils of hair cascading down your shoulders, your sweet smile. he feels the urge come up. one he hadn’t had in months. Obsession. sicheng knew he’d be seeing you more, he’d make sure of it. “it’s not a problem…” “oh! y/n, that’s my name.” you laugh awkwardly, the pause between him implying to ask your name a bit too long. he grins and nods before wishing you a good day. 

it hadn’t been hard to find your sns, a foreigner in mainland china was rare. the pictures you posted did no justice to what you truly looked like. you’d be a good addition to his collection of hearts stolen. he doesn’t follow you and doesn’t like any posts. he has to stay invisible for the time being. he finds out the college you attend and lurks there whenever possible to figure out your schedule. the first two days gives him what he needs, now he stays just to see you. sicheng eventually gets the gall to trek closer to the actual campus, sitting on the benches of the park on the edge of it. you spot him one day, waving at him. strike one. you make your way over to him and sit beside him. strike two. your compassion was going to be your downfall. “fancy seeing you here! are you a student?” sicheng knows better than to lie, so he says no. “i just like to sit at this park from time to time, it’s very relaxing.” you hum in response. “well, i have to get going to my next class, but it was pleasant seeing you again!” he nods and sends you off with a smile, but little do you know, he’s planning the main course for his next feast.

you see, sicheng and his six friends are all what some would call disgusting and horrible people. they don’t understand though, the delicacies of the human body. eating together brings you closer, but eating a person brings you impossibly close. but sicheng was a smart man, and he didn’t need people to call him disgusting, so he prefers to keep his tendencies in the closet. 

sicheng’s daily routine rarely changed. he got up, fed his cat, made breakfast, ate, showered, and went to work. though he didn’t need to work, his parents had left him an empire of wealth to live off. he got bored with no work, so he decided to use some of the said wealth to get a degree and use it. and what better degree than a doctorate in biology? he used it to his advantage, he knew the exact cuts to make, and how the body could be used. throughout his cannibalistic diet, he’d eaten nine people. sicheng had picky tastes, though. no minors, no one over 30, and absolutely no one he didn’t deem pretty enough. gender wasn’t an issue, sicheng admired both. his victims were unsuspecting, falling for his good looks and seemingly sweet personality. sicheng would usually bed them before killing them because while eating someone connects them to you, he felt as if sex powered it more. 

the next time sicheng sees you, it’s at the grocery store again. he uses this as his chance to try for your number. “fate really wants us to see each other huh?” you laugh at the coincidence. he gives a small chuckle back. “well since fate wants us to see each other, maybe i can take the chance and ask for your number?” his question takes you back, and you turn red in slight embarrassment. “well, of course you can, but i’m not looking for a relationship right now, so just friends?” annoyance spreads through sicheng, but he agrees nonetheless. this would make it hard but not impossible.

for the next week sicheng was texting you and gaining your trust. you’d agreed to meet up with him at a cafe for a “friend date” as he put it. he offers to pick you up, and you naively give him your address. sicheng is getting closer to what he wants, and it’s making him giddy. the outing goes well and sicheng takes you home. he lurks around that night, though, and sees you leave your house dressed up nicely. a car pulls up and a man gets out to greet you. sicheng’s blood boils. how were you not looking for a relationship when clearly you were going on a date with this man?

the entire night, sicheng watches and follows your every move. his rage heightened each time the man touches you. you were his, not anyone else’s. sicheng clearly had to get rid of this problem. he’s done it before, and even though he won’t be dining on this man, his friends will. there is never a wasted meal between the seven of them. a quick phone call to kun, to who he gives the address of the restaurant, and the man is taken care of. sicheng decides to leave before he gets mad enough to do the job himself.

not a word is mentioned by sicheng, because if he did, you’d know he followed you. the “friend dates” continued and sicheng was as unsuspecting as any normal person, but behind the scenes, his obsession grew. he was getting impatient, he wanted to have you now. but he just couldn’t push it. you were becoming more flirty with him after the other guy stood you up. at least, that’s what you told sicheng, not knowing the man was long dead and eaten. 

“sicheng, are you alright?” your honey voice pulls him out of his thoughts and back to reality. he nods feverishly and shoots a shy smile, one that hides his true intentions. today is the day, he thought. nothing could stand between him and your extravagance. you smile at him, and place a hand on his arm. “would you like to come to my apartment? i have water and medicine if you don’t feel well.” of course, he agrees. his plan was coming together. throughout the last seven years, the nine victims he’s claimed have all been to his basic standards.

 taeil, the street musician he encountered while still in high school. he was the first, a quite easy job, as he was desperate to find connections to anyone -street performing wasn’t enough to pay the bills- and sicheng was just the perfect person for that. 

yeri, his first girlfriend. sicheng had a lot of fun with her, she was almost always yearning for him, begging for sex whenever the chance arose. but sicheng grew tired of her constantness and got rid of her. 

irene, his best friend’s aunt. she was much too old for sicheng when he’d fucked her, but she was just too cunning to pass up. her seductive nature got the best of sicheng, and her kill was his most gruesome to date, the anger of falling for another’s trick clouded his mind. 

yuta, his first true love. sicheng doesn’t regret killing his lover, but the heavy guilt of what could have been had sicheng not been this way weighs on his mind at all times.

yangyang, the small cousin that annoyed him to no end. sicheng showed no emotion at the boy’s funeral, and he was the only family member he’d killed.

wendy, the girl from college. she was also in the medical department and had a small crush on sicheng. he used this to his advantage, killing her swiftly and secretly.

jaehyun, the secret boyfriend. his junior year of undergrad school was filled with parties at frat houses, and jaehyun being the president of one proved sicheng showing up to many of them. jaehyun was a whore in every sense of the word, and it extended towards men.

renjun, the only other chinese boy in his graduate school. sicheng was a mentor to him, and even cared deeply for the boy. but renjun wasn’t special, he was still just another meal to be consumed.

seulgi, his dance partner. many days after school were spent fucking her in the dance studio on campus, until one day he got tired of her. the dance studio was closed for weeks due to the amount of blood.

and finally you. you were different from the rest, you were the tenth victim, and the fifth girl. an even number of victims, something he took pride in achieving. he knew he had to do something special for you. the pink heart-shaped box he’d got to hold the very organ it was modeled after. it had golden details painted on, and the latch had a pearl on it. sicheng thought it was beautiful, and the perfect thing to hold your heart. he was going to keep it close to him, as a token of remembrance. 

the way back to your apartment was filled with sensual touches and flirty kisses on each other. it wasn’t far from the small cafe you both chose to eat at, so the walk wasn’t too long. a passerby would look and see what appears to be a happy couple when the reality of the situation was much darker. sicheng was hungry, and you were the main course. the door to the apartment was in sight when a policeman stopped the two of you. sicheng hides his annoyance well and puts up an unsuspecting front. “good evening, officer.” the officer nods before speaking to you. “miss, you were one of the last people to see johnny suh last week. do you know anything about his whereabouts?” the shock from his sentence washed over your face as you shook your head no. “i ate with him last tuesday, and arranged another meeting, but he never showed nor answered his phone and i haven’t seen him since.” the officer nods and writes a few things down before turning to sicheng. “and do you maybe know anything about him?” sicheng analyzes the picture of the man he sent kun to kill, almost smiling. “no sir, i’ve never seen him before unfortunately.” the officer nods again and thanks the both of you for the help.

sicheng starts to rush along, wanting to complete the task at hand. the walk up the stairs to your door seemed endless, tunnel vision forming at the thought of what was about to go down. an evil smirk graced sicheng’s features, and as the sunset glowed down on you, he knew your time on earth was ending soon. you both didn’t get even a foot in the door before sicheng was all over you, kisses exchanged between clashing of teeth, hands roaming everywhere that was in reach. clothes discarded around the floor, not to be worried about until later. the only thing that mattered to sicheng right now was getting you in bed. he guides you there quickly, kisses getting messy, the rest of your undergarments gone. the only sounds in the room were the escaping moans from you and the creaking of the bed. 

you’re fast asleep, sicheng makes sure of this. he creeps around your kitchen and finds a knife suitable for his art. the gloves he brought already on, he picks the knife up and examines his reflection. he sees himself as a wonderful human, there are no flaws in him, he is the perfect being. his trek back to your room is hasty, his excitement barely contained. he is moments away from having the best meal of his life.

his body hovered over your sleeping figure. how peaceful you looked, soft breathing, a neutral look on your face. it was such a shame that you’d be dead in less than a few minutes. sicheng took his time preparing his weapon, the carving knife shining in the moonlight. he silently plans out where to take the first stab, even a small error would result in a faulty kill. the pink heart-shaped box in his bag yelling at him to hurry up and do it. taking in a deep breath, sicheng raises the knife, but only enough to get momentum. as he plunges it into your chest, he covers your mouth as to not let the scream out. he can’t have anyone hearing this, for obvious reasons. you awake to a painful sensation. eyes still raw with sleep, you scan your surroundings as best you can, the painful burning almost too much. the figure above you looks familiar, and you thrash around to get away from him. the sleep now long gone and adrenaline coursing your veins, you realize it was the man you’d been seeing around often, sicheng. you try to get away from him, but he is inevitably stronger than you.

“you’re only making this harder for yourself.” his voice comes out deep and full of annoyance. you pay it no mind and continue to wriggle your body, though it is slowly weakening. sicheng continues to carve around your heart, and you try to scream out but the large hand on your mouth blocks it. the pain is unbearable at this point, and you find yourself losing this fight. your skin pales at blood loss and you start to lose consciousness. the last thing you hear before the dark was sicheng’s sultry voice whispering in your ear. “my present to me is the only means of life you’ve got left.” 

you go limp in his arms, your heart ripped from its cavity. sicheng takes one glove off to grab the box, placing the heart inside it gently. he admires his work, standing and taking pictures to save for later. he thinks about how delicious you will taste. sicheng simply cannot wait to be fully connected to you, the excitement making him hurry with transporting you to his house so you can be prepared. sicheng calls up kun, and the only thing he says before hanging up is simple. “tonight, we shall feast on a delicate one.”

the basis of all life is the heart, and you let yours be taken by a man you truly didn’t know.

[ddaenggtan]

midnight wishes | knj [M]

Granny Park's Gossip:

That boy. Never met anyone as prone to disaster as he is while being so damned smart, except maybe that roommate of his. The two of them could probably cure cancer if they wanted to, but you leave them alone for more than a few seconds and you’re liable to come back to disaster. Jiminie did say they’ve been acting a little different, though, maybe they finally wised up and made things official instead of just humping like bunnies around that apartment of theirs. Oh, am I not supposed to say that?

pairing } namjoon x reader 

word count } 10.3k { also on ao3

genre } Fluff, Smut, the smallest possible dash of angst; FWB au, Roommates au, coworkers au, slight idiots to lovers but like. lowkey. 

warnings } smut, the most smut, all the smut. Namjoon In Glasses bc that deserves its own tag. there’s multiple smutty parts, several less explicit and then one very very super explicit so for those: oral female, oral male, fingering, deepthroating, protected sex, unprotected sex, mention of semi-public sex, mentions of a sir kink, some very accidental cum eating that is hilarious and disgusting all at once. Namjoon and Slick are both complete and utter idiots, like it’s genuinely a miracle that they’ve lived this long, especially when paired together. 

{ The Snowball Effect Collab Masterlist } 

a/n } hello it is i with yet another fic. it’s done. i. have a lot of emotions bUT that’s neither here nor there. This is part of The Snowball Effect collab, and while it can be read as a standalone, all the fics end in the same spot and there are so many crossovers that it legitimately hurts to think about for too long, so for the best and funniest and fluffiest experience, we recommend that you read all of them in order!! Special shoutout to ashley, kristi, and ryn (@taehyungforreal, @stutterfly, and @fortunexkookie​, respectively) for letting me part of this wonderful adventure. i’m more honored than i could ever say with words, and i’m grateful every day that i got the chance to work with all of you on this absolutely phenomenal collab. for those of you who are just now seeing this, i implore you to read the others, as they are literal light years better than this, and i could not possibly live up to the absolute beauty of the other authors in this collab, but i still hope you enjoy my shiny garbage child aka this fic.

The first time you ever saw Kim Namjoon was on your very first day at the lab where you both work. You won't ever forget it, not because he's the walking embodiment of beauty nor because he's the most intelligent person you've ever met besides yourself. No, that day stays firmly implanted in your memory because that was the day the two of you nearly got fired for setting the building on fire.

In a genetics lab. 

You don't even work with chemicals. Maybe if you did, they would have been more understanding, but you don't and instead, everyone was completely flabbergasted that the two of you very nearly destroyed the building because you tried to reheat your leftover Chinese food - and really, how perfect is it that he also prefers the place across town instead of on the corner, and that he eats all the vegetables you pick out of your rice while you eat the eggrolls he isn't a fan of - in the microwave at the same time. Sure, your IQ is close to 300 when combined, but also, how are you supposed to remember that the bottom part of the takeout is made of foil? You were trying to single out a gene sequence that might help cancer research. Microwaves were not important. 

Until it exploded a little and set the fire suppression systems off in all the labs and affected several billion dollars worth of research. 

Honestly, the two of you are lucky you still have your jobs.

Less lucky that the insurance company wouldn't pay for the entire cost so both you and Namjoon had to take pretty severe pay cuts to help cover the costs.

Even less lucky that it means you could no longer afford your apartment by yourself and subsequently had to try to find a roommate in less than a week, which the internet is not helpful for, it doesn't matter what your coworkers say.

Which really just highlights that it's your own fault that you're in this situation in the first place, you think as you slam back another shot. It's been months, and yes, you found a roommate, and yes , things between the two of you are working better than you could have imagined, but god , at what cost?

You catch a glimpse of dimples heading your way and down the rest of the Kamikaze that you've been nursing all night. You might regret that later, the alcohol might make you do something you'd never do otherwise, but you can always pretend you don't remember. Besides, it's so much harder to handle Namjoon while you're completely sober; you never quite know what to say or what to do.

He doesn't bother to sit in the empty stool beside you, just slides into the space between you and it and lets one arm rest casually on the back of your barstool as he leans in to be heard over the live band that's playing. You don't look at him, you don't trust yourself to look at him, not with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons undone. You know he looks deliciously rumpled. You're entirely too familiar with the sight.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks. You shrug even as you start pulling your coat on, doing your best to ignore the way the heat of his breath brushed over your neck in the way that always gets you hot and bothered. "We don't have to if you don't want to," He says quickly, but you wave him off.

"No, it's fine, I promise. I'm not enjoying the band as much as I thought I would anyway."

When the ride you summoned stops at your apartment building, Namjoon pays and follows you up. The alcohol has started seeping into your bloodstream, and for a moment you regret that last drink. You're not drunk, not really, but you're on the farther side of tipsy and thoughts are swirling in your head that you wish would go somewhere else. Plus you're really fucking hungry now, and also kinda tired, and you're really glad tomorrow's Saturday so you can sleep in.

"What's got you in your head?" Namjoon asks as you fumble to unlock the door. You just shrug noncommittally, unwilling to tell him about it. He doesn't pry either, just sets to work pulling leftover tacos out of the fridge and sticking them in the microwave, remembering at the last second to take the plastic off the top so your food doesn't get coated in melted saran wrap. The two of you eat in relative silence before you manage to make yourself go into your room and strip out of your work clothes and then slide under the covers.

You don't listen as he goes into the room across the hall, you don't listen as the shower starts up, you don't listen at the off-key singing that he does. You don't. You can't let yourself, because then your drunk ass won't be able to keep your mouth shut the next time you see him - as you're both eating breakfast tomorrow, probably - and you'll say some super embarrassing shit like "hey I know it's partially my fault you couldn't afford your rent and you know I'm really grateful that you moved in with me, but you're also like hot as the surface of the sun and your dimples are really cute too, please fuck me stupid, I'm literally begging you."

Because that's the issue with living and working with Namjoon. There is no escape. Before you could come home and masturbate in peace while thinking about how his chest looks so utterly perfect in those button-ups, and how the muscles in his forearm flex when he's got his sleeves rolled up, and how his jaw does that muscle clench thing whenever he's focused on something.

But no. Now he lives with you , and not only are you both on the same schedules and therefore he’s never not home when you are, therefore depriving you of your precious Alone Time, but! You get a front-row view to how he looks in the mornings, with his hair all messy, and how he always forgets that the flavor packet goes in the ramen after you cook it, and how he bundles up every time he goes on walks with Moni, and-

The door to the bathroom creaks open and you force your eyes not to close. You inspect the stuccoed ceiling the entire time it takes his footsteps to make it into his room because otherwise, you're just going to remember that first week after he moved in, when he would have to go to his room with just a towel around his waist because his clothes were in boxes and he hadn't unpacked and he'd forgotten to take anything in the bathroom with him.

The memory of his absolutely fucking ridiculous pectorals dripping with water and his god damn superb biceps flexed and delicious-looking, none of it hidden under the slightly-too-big shirts he wears to work...it haunts you. To this day.

The sound of his door closing echoes through the hall and into your room. It’s through an incredibly impressive force of will that you don’t imagine what he’s doing right now, just across the hall. You resolutely do not imagine him sliding that towel from around his waist and revealing the gorgeous glistening golden thighs that strain against his work khakis so wonderfully. Nor do you think of the way he twists his neck to pop it while he does his after-shower stretches - because that’s a normal thing that normal people totally do - and you absolutely are not thinking of the way the scent of sandalwood and steam trails after him when he’s freshly showered and you are definitively not thinking about-

A loud, high-pitched moan followed by the slapping of skin on skin echoes through the apartment, jolting you upright and out of your thoughts as you stare in shock at the back of your bedroom door. 

Something thuds against the carpeted floor of Namjoon’s room and the sound abruptly cuts off. The silence that follows is deafening, and your ears ring with it. 

Surely….surely he wasn’t….

A thought, unbidden and cursed, flits through your mind before you can stop it. You can’t even blame the residual alcohol in your body for the way you stand and open your bedroom door, or how you slip your super soft silk robe over your shoulders and tie it loosely around your waist, nor for the way you take the two steps to stand in front of Namjoon’s, but you absolutely blame your quickly-returning sobriety for the way you hesitate in front of it. 

He’s going to say no, anyway, so what’s the harm? Things are awkward for a day or two and then we move on, right?

You knock before you can talk yourself out of it. It takes a few minutes, but Namjoon does eventually open the door. His chest is still bare but he’s got on the soft-looking plaid pajama pants that you adore, albeit they are on backwards , and his face is flushed with color. 

You're 98% sure that it's because he just had his hand around his cock. You're significantly less sure if you hate or love the fact that you know that. 

“Hey,” You say awkwardly. 

“Hey,” He responds, just as awkward. 

You both stand there for a second while you work up the courage to ask what’s been going around and around in your mind. 

“I just heard that thud and got worried,” is what eventually makes it out. Namjoon’s face flushes further, and his nose scrunches in the cutest way. “Just...wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know. Dead. Haha.”

He smiles at your laugh, even though it’s dead and humorless, and warmth blooms in your chest. 

“I’m alright. Sorry for any, uh…” He squints, clearly searching for the word he wants to use that won’t immediately give him away - like the entire apartment building hadn’t heard that noise. “Disturbances.”

“Oh, no, you’re fine!” You tell him, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was just. Uh. Y’know how bonobos will often have recreational sex with non-monogamous partners just because they’re bored or as a way to work out the tension between members of the unit-groups and they enjoy said recreational sex, even though there’s no real emotional attachment to the other parties involved?”

Namjoon stares at you for a long, silent moment. 

“Yeah, I know about bonobos,” He eventually says. “I didn’t know that about bonobos, but I guess that’s the fun fact quota for the day.”

Your face heats and you’ve never quite wished the ground would swallow you up until this very moment. 

“Oh,” You say, dumbly. “Well. That’s a thing. That bonobos do.”

“I got that,” Namjoon says. He bites down on his lower lip in what’s probably an innocuous way to not smile at how ridiculous you’re being, but when paired with the golden expanse of chest, it’s utterly obscene. 

“Would you like to have recreational sex with me?” 

“ What? ”

“No strings attached, no feelings, nothing but some nice fun recreational intercourse between two consenting adults of sound mind. Would you be interested?”

“I...why are you asking me? ” He asks incredulously, and you resist the urge to kiss the surprise off his face. How is it surprising at all when he walks around looking like that ?

“Because in the time we’ve known each other as coworkers, roommates, and friends, I think we could be very sexually compatible and even if we aren’t, I’m confident enough in our friendship to believe we could still be friends afterward.” You tell him firmly. “Besides, you’re literally the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, why wouldn’t I want to have sex with you?”

“You’re...serious about this? You’re not playing some kind of joke on me?” 

“Why would I play a joke on you, Namjoon? I haven’t been able to get off for literal weeks - ever since you moved in, actually - and I’m at a bit of a breaking point.”

“And you’re not drunk?”

“Completely sober,” You assure him. He curses under his breath and runs a hand over his jaw, not making eye contact as he considers. It’s the same thoughtful expression that he gets when he’s trying to figure out some complex equation at work. With how long it’s been since you last came, however, it’s only making you wetter. 

"Fuck it," He mutters, seconds before his hands cup your jaw to pull you into a kiss. 

It's awkward at first, the two of you trying to find a rhythm that you both enjoy while still being able to breathe. His lips are slightly chapped and you both stumble as he starts walking backwards towards the bed, but it's so wonderful. His hand against your jaw is warm and comforting, even as his other hand is slipping teasingly under your robe and his teeth suckle a mark into your collarbone. 

Movement on the bed catches your attention and you flush when you realize it's Moni, Namjoon's very sweet dog that came with him when he moved in. 

"Uh, Namjoon?" You breathe. It's hard to focus on anything that isn't the way he's teasing at the band of your panties, but the way Moni is staring at you is captivating. "Dog."

Namjoon freezes, hands disappearing from your skin, and he either doesn't hear or doesn't acknowledge your needy whine at the loss of contact. 

"What, what's wrong? Is that your safeword? What did I do?"

"No, Joon," You can barely hear yourself think over the stream of apologies pouring from his lips, and it isn't until you grip his shoulders and forcibly turn him to look at his dog that he shuts up. 

" Oh ," He whispers. "The dog." He clicks his tongue a couple of times and Moni hops down from the bed, though not without giving Namjoon the saddest eyes possible. Moni disappears down the hallway, probably to go lay on the couch, and Namjoon shuts the door behind him. "Sorry," he says bashfully. 

"Don't be sorry," You respond with a smile. " Do , however, fuck me until I can't move." 

A growl vibrates in his chest, surprising you, and you're bouncing atop his mattress before you can think. 

He doesn't say anything else, too focused on the way your folds feel against his tongue as he slides your robe up your thighs. Words are hardly possible for you when he makes you come the first time. Even less so when he turns you onto your hands and knees, presses your face into the mattress, and proceeds to pound into you so hard that the nightstand shakes. Still, your knees are made weak by something else entirely.

It's the tender awareness in his touch; he's firm and unyielding but so, so cautious, consistently testing your reactions before he continues. The way his voice - deepened and husky with desire - sounds in your ear when he asks if what he's doing is okay, if you like it, if you want to keep going. It's how he teases you gently about how wet you are - "God damn, is this all for me? You're so fucking wet, so slick and ready for me, sweetheart," -  the way he's so absolutely tuned in to your own needs and desires, the way he coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of you like it's second nature, his own high an afterthought when you've clenched too tight around him. 

It's the way he brings you water and some fruit afterward and gently cleans you up while you eat before sliding your robe carefully over the blossoming purple marks he sucked into your shoulders. It's the way he didn't close his bedroom door until yours clicked behind you. 

"This was the best idea I've ever had," you sigh happily to yourself as you drift off to sleep. 

“So you’ve got a sir kink?” Namjoon asks several days later, face pressed into a microscope more expensive than your entire apartment building. He doesn’t look at you, even as you tear your eyes away from the computer screen in front of you to glance at him curiously. 

“I do,” You tell him. He shifts in his chair and you bite back a grin. “Is that a problem? We don’t have to use it.”

“No, it’s fine,” He says quickly. “Just thought it was interesting. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Namjoon, we’ve only known each other for a couple of months, and in that time, we’ve hardly had a conversation about what kinks we enjoy and what we don’t. How would you expect anything?”

“Just...didn’t expect it, that’s all.” He’s quiet for a minute and a sliver of guilt lodges in your throat. You’re right, the two of you haven’t known each other for very long, especially not in a sexual manner, but you could’ve maybe phrased it better. 

“I’m sorry-”

“We should-”

Both of you stop midsentence, turning away from your work to laugh with each other. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Namjoon says with a dimpled smile. “I know what you meant, and you’re right. We don’t know what the other enjoys, so we shouldn’t go into this with any expectations.”

“Maybe we should, though,” You say, marking a sequence that catches your eye so you’ll remember to come back and fully examine it later. “I mean, we can’t exactly fulfill our sexual needs without knowing what said needs are. For instance, how often do you orgasm every week?”

Something tumbles on Namjoon’s desk, and when you look over he’s got the microscope cradled carefully in his hands a few feet above the floor. 

“Uh...maybe twice,” He eventually says.

“Hm. Duly noted.” You turn back to the monitor in front of you, marking another sequence for inspection. 

“Well...how often do you orgasm each week?” He asks. His voice is hesitant, like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask.

“Depends,” You tell him. “When I’m close to my period or ovulating, it’s usually once a day, if not twice, because my sex drive is higher, but otherwise it’s usually every other day or so.”

“Oh.” 

“But don’t worry, I’m more than willing to take care of myself on the nights where you need a break. I don’t expect you to keep up with my sex drive.”

“I mean...I could .”

You turn away from the monitor to look at him, quirking a brow. He quirks his own in return and you can’t help the way your eyes travel down his form. He’s wearing contacts instead of his glasses - always does during the workweek, since it’s easier to use a microscope that way - but the light purple shirt sets off the platinum blonde of his hair and his thighs strain against the material of his khakis. It all adds up to make him look absolutely delectable, especially since you know full well what’s hiding underneath those pants. 

“I could,” He repeats. “If you want me to.”

Your eyes meet his and you have no doubt he’s been eyeing you the same way you’ve been eyeing him. 

“I think it might be time for our lunch break, Mr. Kim,” You tell him, eyes darting to the clock on your desk. “I was thinking of going out to get something, would you like to join me?”

Namjoon is already standing and grabbing his jacket, and you would laugh at how eager he is if you weren’t the same way. You can already feel heat beginning to pool between your legs and the two of you rush out of the office in such a hurry that you hardly notice when you run straight into the mail cart. 

“Nice going, Slick!” Kihyun yells after you, and you wish you were ashamed of the way that your knees tremble at the reminder of how it felt to have Namjoon call you that while buried inside of your warmth. 

“They have no idea,” Namjoon mutters, fingers twisting with yours so he can pull you down a hallway and towards an unused office. “If they only knew just how slick you really are.”

You shiver and slam the door closed as Namjoon sinks to his knees. 

The amount of times the two of you fuck at work is utterly ridiculous after that. You have an actual conversation with him about kinks and hard limits and soft limits and all that fun grown-up stuff that’s necessary of an adult relationship, of course, and that only adds to the fire between the two of you. 

He’s more than willing to let you call him Sir while you’re on your hands and knees in front of him, and you’re absolutely willing to ride him into oblivion in those moments when he doesn’t want to be in charge or when he’s had a hard day at work and just wants to relax. Those are your favorite times, actually; when he just sits on the couch and drives himself up into you while you’re fucking yourself back down onto him, eyes clenched shut as his hands glide up your spine and knead your ass. 

The slow, lazy way his hips meet yours is absolutely addictive, you can’t even lie, but you can’t deny that it’s the moment after you’ve both cum that are the real danger. When you’re both panting and spent, laying against the soft sheets on his bed or the cool leather of your couch, and his arm drapes around your torso for those few moments it takes him to regain his breath. 

It’s dangerous, so dangerous, because you’ve already agreed not to have feelings involved in this. You’re friends with benefits, nothing more and nothing less, and you cannot let yourself forget that. Not in the mornings when you wander out in his shirt to find that he’s made breakfast - ordered it, actually, but it’s the thought that counts - or when you walk into work together and he doesn’t hesitate to open the doors for you without even breaking stride, as if it’s second nature to do so. As if he’s used to it. 

It’s when the two of you are at the mall together that reality hits you in the face. 

You’re both on the hunt for different things; he’s got a birthday present he still has to buy and wants to pick up some new treats and sweaters for Moni, while you’re on the hunt for a new toaster to rival that of your old one - which you destroyed on accident by using a metal fork to dig a piece of bread out of. While it was plugged in. And hot. 

Your hands still sting a little, but the ER nurse was adamant that you would be alright. So long as you didn’t try to electrocute yourself again.

“Wait, so you’re not going to be here for New Year’s Eve?” You clarify, popping a piece of chocolate into your mouth. 

“No, I’m heading up to Taehyung’s cabin with the rest of the guys. It’s an annual thing, I don’t even remember how it got started,” Namjoon tells you as he peers into the window of some box store that you already know isn’t going to have anything Taehyung will like. 

“Hm, I guess it’s good I work then, so I can walk Moni.” 

Namjoon shoots you an odd look. “You don’t work, and Jackson’s watching Moni.”

“Uh...I’m pretty sure I work on New Year’s Eve, Namjoon. I would’ve made plans otherwise.”

“Slick, I’m exactly one hundred percent sure the office is closed for New Year’s because it is every year.” He sneaks a piece of chocolate and wrinkles his nose when he realizes it’s mint chocolate. 

“No, because my schedule says-” You start, pulling your phone out to open said schedule so you can show him just how wrong he is. “That I work the next morning. That’s why I didn’t make plans.”

Namjoon just smiles and taps at the screen. “That’s December, Slick. You’re looking at December first.”

You pull the phone back and stare at it, horror washing over you when you see that he’s right. 

You’re going to be spending New Year’s alone, for the first time in years, and loneliness fills you at that thought. Your parents are an entire plane ride away, on vacation for their retirement in some tropical paradise that you can’t remember the name of; your old friends are in an entirely different city, likely already with plans of their own, and you don’t know nearly enough people at work or outside of it to have any idea what people are doing. 

“Oh man,” Namjoon breathes, clearly oblivious to the sudden onset of loneliness that’s hit you. “I knew it was going to be hilarious, but I had no idea it was going to be this good .”

You look up to find him focused on his phone, camera pointing at something you can’t quite make out through the small screen. You follow the view, a reluctant smile breaking out when you spot Hope on the Street dancing along to some holiday song while dressed as an elf. 

“Isn’t that the news anchor that got in trouble for doing anal?” You ask. Namjoon cackles - there’s no other word for it, it’s a cackle - and nods. 

“Yeah, Hoseok’s been forced into doing this as a publicity stunt. We’ve all been looking forward to seeing him do it, too, but god , I had no idea it would be this funny to see. Hobi as a Christmas elf, can you imagine?”

“Hobi?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a close friend of mine,” Namjoon says, eyes never straying from the video as he plays it back. “He’s gonna be at the cabin too, with his girlfriend Cat. There’s like seven of us who all grew up in the same little neighborhood, and we all kept pretty close as we got older. It’s like a little mini-family.”

“Oh,” You say softly. Namjoon tucks his phone back into his pocket and looks around, lighting up as he spots something else. “I didn’t know you knew Hope on the Street.”

“Yeah, he’s a dork,” Namjoon says as he pulls you towards some children’s store. “Come on, I think Yoongi’s working and I like to watch his little dance when he makes the hearts.”

You barely pay attention as Namjoon hurries into the toy store. You don’t join him inside, too busy lost in your own thoughts. 

You should’ve realized, you scold yourself. You should’ve known better. You got comfortable, you got complacent and happy, too enamored with the way Namjoon feels inside of you and the warmth of his hand in yours to realize that you’re still on the outside. 

He and his friends are all going up to some cabin, with their girlfriends apparently, to hang out and have fun together for New Year’s. He didn’t invite you. You’ve lost yourself in the fantasy and complacency of how warm he feels, how it feels like coming home whenever you see him, even when you knew better. 

You knew better than to get attached. You told yourself, every step of the way, not to get attached, don’t develop feelings, it’s just sex, and yet…

And yet your heart is breaking in your chest that he didn’t invite you along, that he didn’t even think to do so. It’s not even fair to him, it’s not his fault that you got too caught up in the domesticity and familiarity of him to remember that this isn’t serious. Why would he invite you? You’re his roommate, a coworker, the girl he fucks every so often. You aren’t his girlfriend, you aren’t anyone important to his friends. 

You’re just the roommate. 

“Hey, look at this bear I made, it’s got a little microscope and everything! It’s perfect for-”

“Sorry,” You interrupt, ignoring the way Namjoon’s smile dims ever so slightly. “I just realized that I’ve got to finish up some analyses before the office closes for the holiday, I’ve gotta go do that. But it’s cute, Moni’ll love it.”

“Okay.” Namjoon’s voice is hushed, and his brows are drawn together. He can obviously tell something’s off, but if you’re lucky, maybe he won’t be able to pinpoint exactly what. “I’ll see you at home then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you back at the apartment,” You say quickly, not even looking at him as you hurry off the other way. 

You just need space, you tell yourself. You just need some distance so you can get your emotions under control. You can’t be around him when all you want to do is kiss him senseless and tell him how much you want to wake up in his bed forever, how you never want to miss another walk with Moni. He can’t know. 

He won’t know.

"I fucked up."

"You're going to have to be more specific," Jimin’s voice says from the other end of the phone. 

Namjoon groans, resisting the urge to slam his head back against the cabinets. He's standing in the kitchen now, staring longingly at the fridge and whatever food it may contain, because you’re out grocery shopping now, and he would love for you to come back to a hot meal, but there’s a reason you’re grocery shopping this late at night.

"You remember how in college everyone teased me because I'm terrible at one-night stands and I bet Hobi a week's groceries that I totally could?"

"Yes," Jimin says slowly. Something clinks on the other end of the line, and Namjoon wonders what Jimin’s having for dinner. His stomach rumbles in response and he heaves himself across the kitchen to dig through the fridge while Jimin continues. "I also remember how you spent weeks pining over said one-night stand while Hoseok filled the cupboards with every single thing he thought he could get away with buying. Why are you bringing that up now?"

Namjoom stays quiet but hums in victory as he unearths a pizza that isn’t too terribly old. “How long can pizza live in the fridge before it would kill me if I ate it?”

“If you have to ask that question, it’s been too long,” Jimin tells him. Namjoon debates, eyeing the pizza before deciding it looks fine and turning the oven on before sliding the pizza in. “Now, why are you bringing up one night stands and then pizza?”

"You remember how that new girl started at work a few months ago and we ate lunch together and then nearly got fired?"

"Yes, I distinctly remember writing you notes on takeout containers for weeks reminding you not to put foil in the microwave. What does-" Jimin stops, and Namjoon gets the distinct impression that if they were having this conversation in person, he’d be getting the Look. "Joon, tell me you didn't."

"I didn't have a one night stand with her," Namjoon assures him. 

"Good," Jimin says, heaving a sigh of relief. "God only knows what would happen with a one night stand with your roommate-"

"We're friends with benefits." 

Jimin chokes on whatever he’s eating and Namjoon winces sympathetically. 

"It's not that bad," The elder says before Jimin can scold him. "We're very sexually compatible. And she's amazing, Jimin, you don't even know-"

"Joon, isn't this the same girl you spent an entire four hours talking about the day she started working with you?"

"Yeah, so?"

The blonde gives a heavy sigh. Namjoon knows the younger well enough to know he’s shaking his head right now. 

"Please be careful, Namjoon," Jimin eventually says. 

"Oh, don't worry, we've both been tested, and we use condoms every time, there's nothing to worry about."

"That's not the kind of careful I mean," Jimin sighs. He's quiet for a minute as he eats and Namjoon waits for his pizza to be heated enough to eat. "Why do you say you fucked up if you’ve been careful?”

“I…” He hesitates. “I don’t know. I think she’s upset with me. We were at the mall the other day and it was fine, we were laughing at how Hobi looks dressed as an elf-”

“God that video was hilarious -”

“Right?!” They both laugh a little, fondly remembering the sight, before Namjoon sobers. “And then she just...changed. She got all quiet and skittish and ran off before I could give her the bear I made. She didn’t even look at it.”

“And it just happened out of nowhere? What were you talking about?”

“How she’s off work for New Year’s and I’m heading up to the cabin so she doesn’t have to watch Moni or anything, and then I saw Yoongi doing that dance at the store so I wanted to go watch him, and-” He stops, eyes focused on the air in front of him. 

“Joon? You good?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” He begins, a realization hitting him all at once, “What would happen if I put a pizza in the oven to reheat without taking it out of the box?”

“Oh my fucking god, Namjoon, get it out!”

There’s a flurry of smoke while Namjoon does just that and rushes to open the window so he can let some of the smoke out before you get back home. Jimin’s still berating him - albeit fondly - when he picks the phone back up. 

“It’s fine,” Namjoon says quickly, “It’s cool, nothing’s actually on fire anymore. And the pizza’s warm!”

“Oh my god, how have you survived this long.” Namjoon smiles at Jimin’s words; he gets a lot of shit for being wildly unobservant, but he knows that the others love him dearly. Why else would they still talk to him? Really, after the incident with the tub at Jungkook’s apartment, it’s truly a miracle he still has friends, and love is the only explanation. 

“But seriously, I don’t know what I did with Slick. Do you think I was too...obvious?”

“Namjoon,” Jimin says seriously. “If this girl is anything like you, and based on that time she tried to screenshot a crack in phone screen I’m inclined to believe she is, then I think the issue is that you aren’t being obvious enough . You said she got all weird after you mentioned the cabin, right?”

“Yeah. I thought she’d be happy that she wouldn’t be stuck with Moni, but-”

“Did you consider that since she thought she was working, she doesn’t have any other plans and is now stuck in the apartment by herself since she just moved here recently?”

“Oh.” Guilt surges through him as the door opens and your voice echoes that you picked up some takeout while you were gone. “I gotta go.”

“Ah-ah,” Jimin says quickly. “My payment?”

“Yes, Jimin, I love you dearly, you are the light of my life, I would never have survived this long were it not for your sage wisdom, I owe you my firstborn.”

“Much better! Some of the others could learn from you.” Jimin’s laugh continues long after he’s hung up, Namjoon is sure of it. 

You aren’t sure why the apartment smells like smoke when you get back, but you decide not to question it and just be grateful you had the foresight to pick up some takeout on your way back from the store. 

 When you get into the kitchen, Namjoon is there, with a smoking pizza box on the stove beside him. He’s not in his work clothes; instead, he looks comfortable and cozy in some sweats and a faded tee with his glasses halfway down his nose. Your heart lurches painfully in your chest at the sight and you force yourself to remember that he isn’t yours . 

“Hey! Did you hear me? I got takeout, since I figured neither of us wanted to cook. And I’m glad I did, what’s with the smoke?” A thought strikes you as you set the bags on the table. “Oh no, did you try to use the toaster? I told you not to, it got weird after that night with the fork, we need to replace it.”

“Do you wanna go to the cabin?” 

You freeze, halfway to the fridge to put away the ice cream that he likes. “What?” You ask. 

“The cabin. Do you want to go with me for New Year’s Eve, with everyone?” Namjoon takes the ice cream and finishes your journey for you, sticking it in the freezer without a second thought. “If you don’t want to take advantage of a quiet apartment, that is. You’re welcome to join, and I figured that was obvious, but then I realized that it may not be, so I wanted to offer.”

“With you and all of your friends? I don’t really... know any of them.” 

“That’s fine, they’re not that bad. They’re all pretty friendly, once you get to know them at least.” Namjoon says as he takes some vegetables out of your hands to put them in the fridge as well. “And I have no doubt that the others are going to bring some of their friends. Yoongi’s girlfriend will be there, she seems sweet. And Cat and Star are always nice, you’d love them.” 

You hesitate, though you aren’t sure why. This is what you wanted, so why doesn’t it make you happy?

“Besides, they’ll all be happy to have another friend around to bother. Jin loves to feed people.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you and your heart does something complex that you can’t explain. There’s the rush of excitement and the skipped beat that always comes with his dimples, but it twists and clenches as well. Because of course, he’s just taking you as a friend. 

You’re friends. And that’s fine. If you repeat yourself enough times then you’ll believe it. You have to. 

“Yeah, sure!” You say with a grin. “I’d like that. They always sound so fun, it’ll be nice to meet them for real.”

Namjoon beams and helps you put the rest of the groceries away before you both settle in to eat. It’s not anything fancy, simple and quick and just enough to get the two of you through the night so that you didn’t have to cook. You chat about work as you do, a few sequences that might prove promising if you can work them the right way. 

It’s afterward, as you’re both curled up on opposite sides of the couch while some nature documentary plays in the background, that you notice it. 

He’s been fidgety all night, even before you left to get the food, and you didn’t think anything of it before. But now he’s even worse, hands rubbing along his thighs nervously while he shoots you look after look, which you have no doubt he thinks you don’t notice. 

“What is up with you?” You ask him eventually, ignoring the way some bug is eating another bug’s head onscreen. 

“Nothing,” he says in a rush. “Just...ready for bed.”

“Then go to bed.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. If he’s so ready to sleep, then he should go; neither of you has ever expected the other to stay up and watch TV together. You’re individuals.

“Okay,” he says softly, adjusting his glasses as he stands. He gets all the way to his bedroom door before he comes back, hovering awkwardly in the hall entrance for several seconds before he finally sits back down on the couch. Now, however, he’s sitting with his thigh pressed against yours, the heat radiating through the shorts you’re wearing and searing into your skin. 

He’s still fidgety, still uneasy for some reason, and it’s as you turn to ask him what the hell’s going on that he pulls you into a kiss. It’s soft and lingering and it makes your stomach flip in all the ways it isn’t supposed to. 

“If you wanted to have sex, you should have just said so,” You whisper against his lips. You can feel it more than hear it as he starts to say something and then cuts himself off with a sigh. 

“I wanna be inside you,” he says instead. “Please.”

Heat pools between your legs, even at such simple words, and you find yourself nodding. He kisses you again, frantic and much more heated than before, and you can already tell what it’ll be like tonight. 

You’re right, too; it’s quick and dirty. You don’t even make it to the bed, not at first. He cages you against the wall in the hallway and slides a hand between your bodies to start to draw your first orgasm out. It’s the whine from the dog that makes you realize where you are, pulling apart long enough to stare at where Moni sits at the hallway entrance, head cocked to the side and watching you with a confused stare. 

That gets you into the bedroom, the door shut behind you as you fall together onto the bed. The two of you barely get your clothes off before Namjoon’s sliding inside of you and groaning at the feeling. 

“Fuck, Slick, you’re so wet,” he whispers against your skin as he thrusts. You can hardly make words, too focused on the way he fits inside of you and the absolute certainty that you cannot say a single word running through your head. 

Not that you’re in love with the way he holds your hips so gently as he thrusts, not how he whispers praise and adoration against you with every press of his lips to your skin, and certainly not how you want to stay like this forever. That you’re absolutely positive you’ve broken the cardinal rules of being fuckbuddies. 

Don’t get feelings. 

But you were a fool, anyway. Because it’s easy to break rules, especially when you go into it with feelings. 

The first orgasm hits you with a shockwave, and with the way Namjoon hits your g-spot, it’s followed by a second shortly after. Your hands claw into the sheets as he fills the condom, and it only takes a minute for him to clean himself up enough to relax in the bed beside you, but you hardly notice; you’re too busy adjusting to the emptiness that you’re left with now that he isn’t inside you, the yearning that fills you down to your bones with the need to be wrapped up in his arms and cradled to his chest as you both drift to sleep.

You force yourself up before you can get comfortable, fatigue sweeping through your bones. 

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go shower,” You tell him. It’s a feat to keep your voice neutral, but you think you manage. “And then head to bed, I think. Uh, thanks. For the orgasms.”

The door to the bathroom closes behind you before he can even get a word out, and you force the image of his confused face out of your mind as you turn the water on. It takes every part of you to resist the urge to linger in the hot spray for longer than you need to be there, but you manage. 

By the time you’re slipping into bed, the light in Namjoon’s room is off and you can hear Moni settling into bed beside Namjoon. You can practically see them, curled up together all warm and settled in together. Content. 

You slip between your own sheets and wrap the fluffy blanket around you. Emotions are swirling in your gut and you do your best to ignore them all. You don’t need to focus on the way you want to be there with them, the way you want to curl your body into his with Moni between you, just the way he likes on the couch. 

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever had,” You tell yourself with a sigh as you try to fall asleep in your lonely bed. 

You don’t know that across the hall, Namjoon lays awake with Moni beside him, wondering how he fucked up so badly that you’re not in his arms anymore. He’d have every intention to tell you about his feelings. He wanted to end this friends-with-benefits thing, put it to rest so that he could take you out for real. So you could be together , for real. 

But you’d just bolted the second he was collapsing onto the bed, like you were running from something, and he wasn’t about to keep you here when you don’t want to be here. 

Still, he thinks as Moni burrows under the blankets to get closer to him, he can’t help but wish you were up against him as well, with your breathing steady and quiet as you sleep and he can feel your chest move with it. 

He just really wishes that you wanted that too.

The drive to the cabin is uneventful. You and Namjoon talk about work most of the way, chatting amicably about a few things that got corrupted in the data that have been frustrating to rebuild and how excited Moni was to see Jackson when he picked the pup up that day. 

You’re only a little nervous when you spot the wooden sign specifying that it belongs to the Kims. You’ve heard a lot of stories about Namjoon’s friends, seen one or two in passing when they come by the apartment to see Namjoon, though you tend to give them space when that happens. 

Still, nothing could ever compare to the welcome that greets you. There’s some kind of karaoke going on, with Taehyung and Star watching from the couch. There are crutches propped up nearby and you wonder what the story is there for the few seconds before your attention is drawn to the kitchen, where who you assume is Seokjin is scolding someone for shoving entirely too many cookies into their mouth. You catch sight of someone - blonde, giggling, followed by a sweet-looking girl - run out of the kitchen with his cheeks puffed out and crumbs on his lips, and you shoot Namjoon a look. 

“Jimin,” He explains with a grin. “C’mon, let’s go claim the den before someone else can get to it.”

That night is hectic, to say the least. Namjoon was right when he said his friends are welcoming, though; everyone is friendly and talkative - except for Pumpkin, Seokjin’s best friend who genuinely looks like she’s about to murder someone for the few moments that you see her during dinner but Namjoon assures you “That’s just her face, I promise.” Even when the boys get to reminiscing about the days they spent in that cul-de-sac, they include everyone else in their stories. 

Especially fun is when they all come up with theories about why Cat and Hobi are late, and while from what you’ve heard so far tonight, you agree with the proposal that they’re probably fucking, you still feel a sliver of worry for them. 

It’s the mention of sex that gets your stomach churning, though. Because Namjoon shoots you a knowing look, the same one he gets when you wear those ultra-short shorts around the house that he adores, and you already know what he wants. You can’t even say you don’t want it, too, because you don’t think you could ever turn down the opportunity to have him like that. It’s just so bittersweet when it ends-

“I’m going to start on dessert,” Seokjin states as he gathers plates. Yoongi and Peaches are gone in record time, and Taehyung and Star follow not long after, though it takes considerably longer with the way Taehyung helps her. Seokjin calls after them all that he’ll have dessert ready in a little while, and Namjoon shoots you another look when Jimin and Pumpkin don’t move from the table. 

“C’mon,” Namjoon whispers, grabbing your hand and urging you down the hallway. “Get our bags, we’re gonna steal Jin’s room.”

“That doesn’t seem like the best idea,” You whisper in return, though you do in fact grab the bags as he directs. “Isn’t that also Pumpkin’s room? Are we sure she won’t murder us?”

“No, it’ll be fine, Jin would never let her.” The thought isn’t as comforting as Namjoon means it to be, but you manage to get your bags in the room and their bags out without anyone the wiser. 

You realize your mistake too late. This room only has one bed. A singular sleeping area. The den has couches, you would have been fine, but you can’t sleep here. You can’t share the bed with Namjoon; it’s entirely too dangerous. Getting to see him still completely sleep soft, warm against you as the two of you doze in the early morning light? 

There would be no coming back from that. 

The thought leaves nearly as quick as it enters, driven away by the slide of Namjoon’s arms as he wraps them around you. 

"Do you want it, Slick?" His voice is deep and rumbling, almost a purr in your ear, and it makes your knees weak. It's truly ridiculous how easy it is for him to rile you up, but fuck , can you really complain?

Except you can, because it's not what you want. It's not everything you want. You can't ask for more, though, not when he doesn't want to give it.

His hands snake towards the waistband of your pants - fancy grey pinstriped pants that you bought specifically because Namjoon told you that Seokjin has a fancy dress code for New Year's Eve - and your heart jumps up into your throat. You spin in his arms, doing your best to look enthusiastic. 

"I want to blow you," You tell him as you sink to your knees. He leans back against the wall and quirks a brow, but he nods his agreement.

You set to work almost immediately; you're determined to make this the best blowjob of his life. It's the least you can do. You don't tell him that, though; you can't tell him. Not this. Not that you're so deeply entrenched in your feelings for him that you're afraid if you don't get out now you won't be able to. Not that you can't bear to have him touch you because you're afraid of what will come out of your mouth, what you might say or reveal that he doesn't want to know. 

Not when you're going to have to end this, as you decided while laying in bed two nights ago, cold and exhausted and utterly alone. 

You focus again on Namjoon, reminding yourself to pay attention. His dick is big - big enough that your fingers can only barely meet when you wrap them around it, but it means your jaw aches deliciously when you go down on him, and you adore the feeling of it in your throat.

So you swallow him down completely, burying him to the hilt with one swift movement. You've been practicing, and it has clearly paid off if the choked moan that escapes him is any indication. His hands tangle in your hair, not pulling or pushing but instead just sitting there and moving with you as you pull off just to bury him again. 

You look up and are pleased to find that his eyes are screwed shut, jaw clenched tight against the moans building inside of his chest. But that won't do at all. The best blowjob of his life can't possibly be one where he doesn't even look at you.

To rectify the situation, you bring one hand up to tease at his balls, squeezing ever so slightly in the way you know he likes as you swallow around his cock. He does moan then, fingers clenching in your hair as he opens his eyes to look down at you. 

"Fuck, just like that, Slick," He pleads. "Again, please again, it's perfect." You comply, humming an affirmative around his dick that makes him shudder before you swallow around him again. "God, fuck , you're so fucking perfect. Fucking amazing, the best, I can't believe I get to have this-"

Namjoon continues, mumbling in and out of coherency as you bop your head up and down on his cock. He's thick and heavy in your mouth and it feels like heaven on your tongue - it always does - and just when you think you can never get enough-

"Fuck, I love you so much, Slick, you're a god damn angel."

You pull off his dick, staring wide-eyed at him. Namjoon whines and looks down at you, clearly not comprehending what's just come out of his mouth.

"Fuck," He mutters. "Fuck, shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I don't...I'm so sorry I didn't want you to know, especially not like this. Shit. "

"Are you serious?" You ask as you stand back up. Namjoon makes a belated movement to help steady you, blood flowing back into your calves from where you were kneeled down for a while, but he stops himself. He doesn't even look at you, really, instead staring out the window nearby. "Namjoon, seriously. Did you mean that?"

"I mean…" He hesitates, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Yeah. I did. I do. It's still new so I can't be entirely sure, but I think that's what this is." 

He heaves a sigh and tucks himself back into his slacks before moving to sit on the bed, one hand running through his platinum hair. 

"You weren't supposed to know," He mutters. "I thought I could keep it a secret. I didn't want to make it weird between us since you don't…" 

"Since I don't...feel the same?" You ask as you sit beside him. "You really...care about me like that?"

"Yeah," Namjoon whispers with a grin. It's fond and sweet and everything you've ever wanted and it's so unbearably familiar because it's how he's always looked at you. "Ever since we almost burned the lab down, I think."

"Same," You breathe, and you can't deny the way that you love the light that sparks in his eyes at that. "Ever since you ate the vegetables out of my rice and gave me your eggrolls." 

"Are you-"

"Yeah," You say with a laugh. "I guess we're kind of both at fault for this, then."

"Can I…" Namjoon trails off, searching for the words he wants. His hands move to wrap around yours, lacing your fingers together as he gives you a smitten smile. "We've been fucking for a while. As you know. But would you do me the honor of letting me make love to you?" 

You gulp, an audible and atrocious thing, because his words send a surge of desire straight to your core. He's right, you have been fucking, because that's the only thing the two of you can call it. You don't make eye contact, you don't sleep over, there are rules , but god, the two of you break everything else, so why not this?

"Please," You whisper.  

His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands following quickly after to strip your clothes off. You can't be sure when his clothes join the pile on the floor, just that one moment your fists are clenched in his shirt and the next, you're raking your nails down his bare back as he sucks purple marks into your neck. 

"God, you're beautiful," He mutters. "Fucking divine." 

"Then I match you, don't I?" You whisper. Two of his fingers slide into you, and both of you moan at the feeling. He glides them against your walls, teasing that one spot inside of you that he knows you adore, and you whine a little.

"Patience, my dear," He chuckles. When you whine again he grins, dimples making your stomach flip. "Alright then, Slick. Let me get a condom."

"No," You say quickly. "We've been exclusive, right? No risk or anything like that. I've got the implant. 98% effective. I want…"

"Say it, love," Namjoon breathes, eyes never leaving yours. 

"I want to feel you. Please." He nods at your words and settles between your thighs once more. Your breath hitches in your throat at the thought of what's to come. 

"Tell me if you want to stop," he says as he presses kisses to your neck, up your throat, and across your cheeks. He does it all to distract you as he slides inside, but he doesn't need to. You've been fucking him for months now, you know exactly how big he is, and you're more than ready for it. 

What you aren't ready for is the way his skin feels against your walls, how you can feel every pulse and throb of his cock inside you. It's better than anything you've ever felt, beyond any descriptors you could find, and it only gets better as he slides out and then back in. 

His pace is slow but steady, a rhythmic glide to it that's making you obscenely wet. It's a stark contrast to the gentle way he kisses you, the softness of his lips against yours. The sound of his skin hitting yours fills the room as he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. 

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," You tell him, sliding your hands along every inch of skin you can get. 

Nothing is loud enough to mask the sound of the door opening, however, and when you glance over you can see that Hoseok and Cat have apparently finished whatever the fuck it was they were doing. 

You shy back, doing your best to cover yourself from their eyes, but Namjoon's pace doesn't falter. 

" Taken ," He growls. He doesn't even break eye contact as he does so, and the way his hand tightens on your hip makes you think he isn't just talking about the bedroom. 

Thankfully the couple disappears after that, closing the door behind them as they go, and it flips a switch inside Namjoon somehow. 

His pace speeds up, pistoning in and out of you mercilessly. He starts to angle his hips, searching until you finally cry out with your back arching up off the bed itself. He just smiles and continues to hit that spot, one hand moving to support your back while the other rubs teasing circles into your clit. 

"That's it, love," he purrs. "Wanna watch you come for me like this. Let yourself fall apart on my cock, Slick, I'll be right here. I've got you." 

You really wish you could figure out what exactly it is he does then; some kind of swivel of his hips while his fingers do some complicated twist or something, you have no doubt, but nevertheless, it's got you unraveling underneath him. You clench around him, harder than you ever have, and you can feel the sheets soaking underneath you from the strength of your orgasm. 

It takes barely two more thrusts for Namjoon to come as well, stilling slightly as his cum hits your walls for the first time. It's warm and you can feel it settling inside of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy it. 

You're both panting, out of breath and exhausted and having worked all the food Seokjin made out of your system. Namjoon disappears for a few seconds before returning with a warm cloth to clean you up; his hands are tender as he does so, and you find yourself falling even deeper. 

After a quick power nap and an even quicker quickie - because Namjoon insisted that it wasn't fair that you got to go down on him but he didn't get to go down on you - the two of you mingle with the others. Hoseok and Cat fit seamlessly into the group, filling a space you hadn't realized was missing during dinner. It's obvious to you, as you lean against the kitchen island and watch them all, just how much this group loves each other. Even the newcomers, like the new girlfriends, are absorbed so perfectly into the existing group that it's as if they never left.

Hell, even Pumpkin is smiling a little, although you can't be sure it's not just because Seokjin looks Like That. 

"Ooh, icing," Namjoon says as he comes to join you in the kitchen. Seokjin barely gets a chance to say anything as Namjoon drags his thumb across the white droplet and sucks it into his mouth. 

The baker looks horrified, and you wish you knew why. Namjoon agrees, based on the look on his face. 

"What?" Namjoon asks. "It was good." Seokjin's face is as pale as it can possibly get when he waves Namjoon away, and you have a sneaking suspicion of just what your boyfriend put in his mouth. 

You don't bother to hide your smile as said boyfriend comes over to you and hands you a glass of champagne.

"What are you so happy about?" He asks teasingly.

"You," You tell him honestly. It's worth it when he ducks his head, shy smile making his dimples stand out even as he tries to hide it. "I adore you."

Namjoon doesn't respond, just kisses you. He breaks away for a few minutes, saying something to someone else, and when the clock strikes midnight, he presses another gentle kiss to your lips.

"What are you wishing for?" He asks. 

"Midnight wishes? Really?" You tease. He cocks a brow and you smile. "I don't need to wish for anything. I got everything I wanted this year." 

"Really? Everything?" 

You nod, straightening his tie ever so slightly. "And what about you? What are you wishing for?"

"Oh, that's easy." He wraps an arm around you and grins. "For you to finally accept the bear I made you that day in the mall."

"Moni loves that thing, I couldn't possibly take it from him."

"But it's got a microscope! And a lab coat!"

Well then," You tell him, dropping your voice so the others won't hear. "I suppose you'll have to make me another." 

He glances over to where Yoongi and Peaches stand and then back to you. 

"Covert mission to also get another for Jisoo?"

"Glad we're on the same page here," You tell him with a smile.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 11: Discharge Plan

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Dawson)

Summary: The highs of Shane and Sy’s first weekend as a couple are followed up by some big news from Sy, leading to our couple’s first fight.

Don’t miss a session! Click here to catch up on this story or explore my other works!

Word Count: 2.7

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, smut, sort of unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, angst, alcohol consumption,

Author’s Note: First off, I wanna talk about the word “victuals.” I’ve loved this word for a long time, even though it makes no sense, phonetically as it actually rhymes with the “fiddles” or “riddles.”(It’s true, look it up!) It’s very pastoral and somewhat archaic, so you don’t hear it too much anymore in current writing about the present, but I just felt like Sy would say it. Secondly, it was really hard for me to put my darlings through the argument in this chapter. I want them to have only happy times…but that provides no tension or motivation for story development…and I want to keep writing them more than I want them to be happy… I guess I finally understand why authors torture their characters! Lol! It might take a bit of time for me to sort out what their relationship looks like adding the distance factor, but I have some ideas that might work. Also, it might be an opportunity to do a bit more of Sy’s perspective, which I thoroughly enjoy, and may go back and fill in some blanks for him in between chapters I’ve already done. I hope you all enjoy this installment of the Treatment of Captain Syverson! Feedback in any form is always appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

@radkesgirl83

@wheretheriversrunintothesea

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

The rest of the weekend was spent in blissful relaxation. Sy went to his place to feed Aika and bring her over at Shane's insistence. The dog had been slightly standoffish with her, but Sy assured her that it was in her nature to be aloof, and that she needed to be engaged or instructed to behave more doglike.

"It's her training. She's still a soldier. It's hard for us to shake those habits. Like me calling you 'ma'am' at first."

"She's another die hard. I respect that." she chuckled, scratching Aika behind her perked ears, and eliciting pants of contentment from her.

Sy's skills with a spatula were unmatched. That was to say, he made the best pancakes she'd ever had. They almost didn't need syrup…almost. They ordered an obscene amount of Chinese takeout which lasted them about three meals each. Sunday evening, though, which had a gloom to it no matter the circumstances, required some comfort food. They agreed on pasta, so Shane made up some of her famous alfredo sauce and probably twice the recommended portion of pasta for two humans to consume. There were no leftovers. Sy had three helpings, himself. Three heaping bowls of it. Shane couldn't handle more than one and a half servings, even though she wanted to gorge herself. She knew too much would make her ill.

When they weren't eating, the were cuddling on the couch, or in Shane's bed. They watched more Parks and Rec, and a few other films and shows that Sy requested, just to break things up. Their bodies were constantly wrapped in each other, leading to frequent bouts of making out, fooling around, and sex in almost every room of the house.

Her favorite had been the shower. She insisted on getting cleaned up, but Sy had objections.

~~~~~~~~

"I'll be less than ten minutes, come on, I reek! You can't wanna kiss me when I smell like this!" she said, trying to shut the bathroom door on the human mack truck before her. Broad and formidable.

"You smell like sex, and…me, darlin. I've never wanted to kiss you more," he said, backing her up toward the shower doors. "but I guess if you must. Lemme help, though." he pulled open the glass door, forcing her into his captivating kiss, and maneuvering her backward into the walk-in, stone tile shower. He pulled off her tank top, capturing her breasts in his hands and mouth for a moment before kneeling to remove her shorts and kiss her thighs. He pulled himself away too quickly and started the water flowing.

"Sy, you're fully dressed!" he was barefoot, but otherwise, in jeans and her favorite of his tees. The letters DILLIGAF across a skull, black on red. She always laughed on the inside when she saw it. Because although Sy often had to put on a calloused and brusque act when he'd been an officer in the Army, he was terribly soft and sweet when the occasion called for it. The irony being that although he didn't look like he gave a fuck, he actually did.

"I've got more clothes in the truck and you've got a dryer." he maneuvered her under the pulsing stream of the showerhead. "Gotta get you wet." he let the water run through her hair as he reached for her shampoo, a coconutty concoction that reminded her of summer, squeezed a bit into his hand, and lathered it up. He worked the suds into her wet hair gently, raking his nails across her scalp in a way that excited and ignited every atom in her. She sighed at his touch which made him groan with need.

He tilted her head back to rinse the lather out and reached for the conditioner. He was a bit more generous with it than strictly necessary, but she didn't protest. He pulled her hair forward in two sections, one over each shoulder and worked the emollient into the strands. His hands slick from the product, he ran them over her breasts and her abdomen and hips…between her legs. There her own arousal was primed to combine with the tropical unction. She gasped as he worked his fingers over her, slow at first, but speeding up, only to slow again. When she finally whimpered in frustration, he undid his jeans, and backed her up to the stony grey wall, not giving a fuck, as his shirt had suggested, that he and his clothes were getting soaked. His only care now apparently, was to satisfy the simpering cries of "yes, please." from Shane.

His first few thrusts were slow and measured, knowing that she was still adjusting to his size. But it didn't take long for him to lose control. She wasn't sure what was making him like this, but she was not complaining in the least. The texture of his jeans on her bare, wet thighs was a sensation she wouldn't soon forget. She gripped at him, holding onto his shirt for dear life as her climax built to impossible heights.

She was loving the way he lost himself in the ferocity of the act. And his release led to hers immediately. She wrapped herself around him in blissful embrace, and whispered his name as a prayer.

"Sorry, darlin,' I meant to…"

"It's okay. I'm on the pill and I'm not at a particularly dangerous time in my cycle."

He kissed her tenderly and reached for her bath puff and some body wash. "Well, let’s get ya cleaned up."

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

The only good part about Monday was that she'd be treating him. Although, he was scheduled in the afternoon. Her morning would drag on eternal.

He greeted her with a typical "hey, susnshine" and she led him into the gym, feeling his gaze on her ass, wanting, even though they'd just left each other quite satisfied that morning. He was freshly showered, beard well groomed, and his hair growing back in very nicely. He'd asked her weeks ago whether he should keep the buzzed look or not, and she had been entirely for growing it out. She wanted something to run her hands through. She'd be fine if it was at least shoulder length, but she wouldn't push that on him.

They did their normal warm up on the bikes, followed by some plyometric drills, which made him scowl at her in a way that lit her up like a firecracker. But the fact that he was able to jump up onto the box was encouraging. He couldn't have done that a month ago. He was progressing so well and was so close to his long term goals and discharge. It almost made Shane sad. It wasn't as though they wouldn't see each other, but having him break up the insanity of her day three times a week for just an hour was invaluable.

As they were doing their usual end of the session stretch in her treatment room, and she noted the improved range of motion he was getting, he broke the amiable silence with a question.

"Hey, can I bring a pizza or somethin' over for dinner tonight after you get off?"

"Sure!" she could tell there was something he wanted to say, but was holding back. She prodded. "Everything okay? You've been a bit…off today."

"I'm good. Just a little distracted." he deflected by touching her hip, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She swatted him away.

"Not here, Sy."

"But that makes it fun!" he pouted.

"No, that really could get me fired! Getting frisky on company time!"

"Mmmm, I'd love to frisk you right now." he reached between their legs to try and grab her again, but she thwarted him and pinned his wrists at his ears.

"Cool it, cowboy, or your last two sessions are gonna make you wish you'd never met me." she threatened.

"Ain't nothin', nothin' on God's good green earth could make me wish that, sunshine." His stunning blue eyes softened her resolve and she let go, continuing to stretch him.

"Still…cool it." she grinned.

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

She'd just had time to change into some comfy clothes, wash her face, and put her hair up when her doorbell rang.

Sy stood smiling under the porch light, a modern white knight, carrying a large pizza from Pizza Hut and a six pack of Miller High Life.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes! And it's nice to see you too, Sy!" she laughed, teasing him.

"Should I leave the victuals and go?" he asked, mock concern on his sarcastic brow.

"Get in here, soldier."

She got out napkins and paper plates because as horrible as it sounded, she just couldn't think about doing dishes tonight. She was even glad Sy had brought drinks in disposable or recyclable containers, and not wine, which she tended to prefer. She was exhausted, but not upset, which made the silence they ate in bearable. Sy still seemed to have something on his mind, though.

"Did you have something you wanted to talk about tonight, Sy?"

"Kinda, yeah, uh…it's kind of a big thing for me, and I know this is new, what we have, but…well, I'll just tell ya."

"Go on." she encouraged, worried.

"I…I talked to my old CO about jobs in the private sector. He referred me to a company that…well it's sort of an employment agency for vets. Mostly security for private companies and individuals. I had a phone interview with them this past Tuesday. I just got a call this morning that they want to meet me in person to finalize everything. Mostly a formality. When I go for that, I'll also have to stay there a couple of weeks to a month for training."

"Where is this…gig?" She said, flat affect hiding the feelings brewing under her skin.

"The offices are in Charlottesville…Virginia. And there may be some cross country training there in Shenandoah National Park."

"Cross country…by that do you mean survival training?" She was still cool, but getting more livid.

"You could call it that, I guess. But it won't be a challenge for me. I'm more worried about the technical stuff." His bravado and flippancy about the whole endeavor was enraging her. The thought that he'd be in the wilderness alone, was only a fraction of the big picture. He was going away for a month? And he had known about the job for a week now. A week in which so much about their relationship had changed, and shifted. How could he think she'd just accept this without a bit of raging.

"You waited until after we slept together to tell me this. You did it on purpose, Sy." that was the biggest problem, she thought. The fact that he seemed to be hiding it from her. It brought back old trauma that she thought he'd never have subjected her to.

"Yes and no, Shane. I wasn't intentionally keeping anything from you, I just didn't wanna bring it up until somebody bit."

"You wanted to keep me in the dark about something you were excited about? How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I didn't wanna get your hopes up or mine. Honestly."

"Saying 'honestly' doesn't make it honest, Sy. I've told you about everything that Elliott put me through. The lies. The secrets. This puts a bad taste in my mouth. You have to see that. Can't you?"

"Oh, sunshine, I--"

"No, please. Do not do that right now. Don't call me sunshine when all I can see is the night."

"I'm so sorry. My intention was not to make you feel in any way like that asshole ever did. Please hear me when I say that. I want to be the opposite of him in your mind in every way, darlin.' Please believe that."

There was so much sincerity in his voice, now nearing tearfulness that she felt he must be telling her the truth. She nodded. But was still apprehensive about the nature of the job and the training.

"But…what if you get hurt again?"

"I won't. You've all but fixed me, Shane. I'm stronger than ever."

"Can't you just…find a safe job? Here?" She was being selfish. She couldn't help it. Even though she knew she might regret it.

"Sit at a desk, ya mean? Deliver pizzas?" he indicated the box between them on the table. "Call people and ask them if they're happy with their cable services, Shane? Is that all I'm good for now?" he was angry.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, of course not. You're a PT. That's what you were meant to do, right? Well, imagine if you couldn't do that no more. Something or another, an injury, perhaps, or just plain ol' shitty situation, left you in a position where you couldn't go back. Couldn't do your dream job. Couldn't fulfill your purpose." he spat. "Wouldn't you do anything you could to be some shadow of what you were meant to be?"

She couldn't speak. Because he was right in so many ways.

"Because right now, I'm nothin'. I'm not doin' anyone any good. I'm a drain on my country, the one I swore to protect with my very life. It's like I've broken an oath. And it's fractured my soul."

"I see that. I truly do. But I need you here. You do ME good, Sy. I'm already half dreading d/c'ing you. I don't wanna have to say a goodbye, too." it was her truth. But it hit him very much sideways.

"So…what is it, Shane? You only want me when I'm broken? You only want me so you can fix me?"

"No, of course not! That's not what--"

"Am I a charity case to ya now? Is that why ya finally gave in and let me in your bed?"

"Sy, no!" she was crying now. It had hurt so much to think that he could have gotten that from what she'd said.

"I think if you can have feelings hurt about this situation then so can I."

He stood to leave, but she caught him by the wrist.

"Shane…you know I would never, ever harm you. But please… don't test my limits. Let… go." She did.

She was still quite a bit faster than him, so she ran ahead and blocked the door.

"Move." he insisted. She didn't.

"Hear me out, and then I'll let you go."

He crossed his arms and nodded, his gaze still one of cold steel.

"Sy, I didn't mean to make this job that you're clearly excited for into a source of anguish or to make it about me. I'm thrilled that you're going to get to do something you want in another field. I really am. I just…being with you has made me realize how good life can really be. And even if you'd told me before we slept together, I would have said the same thing. It was selfish of me to haul my baggage into the conversation when you aren't, have never been, and could never be Elliot. His best couldn't compare with your worst. And I will do my best in the future to think about who you are before I complain about the work you find to do."

"It's like I said about Aika before. She's a soldier. Hard trained. And so am I. It took a lot of hard work for me to get where I am, so much that it fundamentally altered who I am as a person. Now, in my opinion, those changes were for the better. I was kind of a shit before I became a soldier, thought the sun rose and set with me. I got some perspective and met some good people…lost some, too. Saw some shit I can't unsee. Some of it haunts me to this day, and I figure it always will. But I reckon if I can keep fighting the fight somehow. Keep protecting people in whatever way I can, my training and experience won't be a total waste."

"I understand and respect that, Sy. And I will back you in any way I can. I'll water your plants, I'll keep Aika whenever you're gone, I'm here for you."

"Oh, shit! I wasn't even thinking about having to leave my dog behind! Maybe this WON'T work!" he chuckled.

"Second fiddle to another woman already. I knew you were gonna break my heart, Captain Logan Syverson."

"Never intentionally, sunshine." he hugged her, tight, and with his whole body. Their argument in the past and their future an exciting mystery. Shane had never felt so safe and loved.

Up Next: Chapter 12: Final Home Exercise Program

[phoenixtakaramono]

THE UNTOLD TALE - CH3 PREVIEW

There was an important takeaway to be had from tonight’s interaction: Shen Yuan had asserted his place as the lord of this residence and as Luo Binghe’s future ally.

Several thoughts had, however, been plaguing him ever since Shen Yuan gifted Luo Binghe the handscrolls, leaving like the composed gentleman he was while the half-demon pondered over the newfound revelations for the night. Those thoughts filled Shen Yuan’s brain with a renewed vigor that his exhausted body did not feel, roiling through his brain as he changed into his night clothes. Even now, lying down with his hands folded over his stomach, they consumed his mind as he stared up at the azure, gauzy canopy that looked eerily similar to the one in the guest bedchamber that Luo Binghe now slept in.

Wisps of hazy white rose from the lotus-shaped censer he’d brought to his bed. The coals within were still fresh in the copper, keeping him warm in the night, with the fragrance of sandalwood circulating within the room.

His unyielding companion, the blue text box, hovered above. Shen Yuan kept his gaze averted from it; he had read and reread the Chinese characters countless times that if he closed his eyes, he could still see the most recent notification engraved in his mind’s eye.

【Prediction! Future Event <<A NIGHT OF PASSION>> has been changed into <<LOADING CHEKHOV'S GUN>>. You have reached the conditions to clear the scenario. Countdown commencing. Reward: B-Points +50.】

The planes of his face were bathed in a soft blue glow as he ruminated. Shen Yuan couldn’t find it within him to feel any guilt or to throw blame at anyone other than himself. He’d unlocked the <<TRUE END>> main scenario and, judging by how the <<SYSTEM>> was not giving him a choice, he had to build that rapport between themselves and see that friendship through.

These are the seeds you’ve sown, Shen Yuan, he reminded himself. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. He could only dig his hands into the soil and watch the seeds slowly bear fruit.

Bing gē—or, rather, Luo Binghe—was not a 2D character on paper; he was now a real person who breathed and talked and had a will of his own. Even so, Shen Yuan didn’t know the extent of the ramifications if an extraordinary “prodigy” gained self-awareness that he was the male protagonist of a fictional erotica series.

It’d be interesting. If someone found out one day that they were a precious existence in a world which catered to them, they’d naturally become arrogant. All the attractive people belonged to them, hearts were won over for no real reason, and enemies would be seen as less of a threat and more as an annoyance. Shen Yuan could envision it; Luo Binghe would probably behave more recklessly, confident in the fact that he was protected by plot armor. He’d be a spoilt menace in a male power fantasy world—until the novelty wore off, and then the boredom set in.

The corners of Shen Yuan’s mouth curved. He didn’t know how likeminded Luo Binghe was, but if he thought like he did, he’d exploit his advantages.

A protagonist’s existence was akin to a cockroach, dragged from door’s death each time without fail.

This was not merely a case of schadenfreude—another difficult foreign term he’d learned during his pursuit as a novelist—where he reveled in another person’s misfortunes. It was a well-established trope in all forms of literature that when a person was casually dropped into a life-or-death situation, they would resurface as calamities. Since Luo Binghe was an important main character, he would naturally benefit.

...Sorry, youngster. Shen Yuan raised a white flag in commiseration for him in his heart. I didn’t mean to conscript you, but you must continue to work hard. Nationalistic pride exists among many Chinese writers.

Even pre-enlightened Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had not been exempt from that.

In most narratives, the protagonist’s role was to rise above the rest and “smash the system.” Shen Yuan squinted up at the UI, his eyes beginning to water from its bright glow. He blinked rapidly, but the strain in his eyes refused to ease.

He swore in his head. This better not be the sort of tale where he and Luo Binghe had to compete to establish who was the one true protagonist, having to assert narrative dominance. Shen Yuan had no intention of pulling aggro to himself.

Raising a forearm up to shadow his vision, he groaned. He declared to no one, “Airplane brother, you’ve done your first son a great disservice.”

(He’d done a disservice to the original Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan as well as among many others.)

The events that had played out tonight strengthened Shen Yuan’s conviction. He could now see how people easily fell for his act; the charisma of a stallion protagonist was potent. Even so, he had capitalized on goodwill—and Luo Binghe’s strange fixation—hoping continuous acts of kindness being demonstrated toward him would soften him toward Shen Yuan and prove his intentions were sincere.

Should he prove himself to be of use, surely even somebody like Bing gē would not discard him during his rise to power or see him as a threat?

The only method he could foresee showing his fellow protagonist that his services were indispensable was by lending him his wisdom—and his predictions on the account of Shen Yuan being a <<FORTUNETELLER>>. His goal to leave a favorable impression with the other protagonist was already well underway, with the aim of establishing how it would be in Luo Binghe’s best interests to remember Shen Yuan’s acts of compassion and to return them tenfold in the future unless he wished to owe the celestial favors.

He recalled the last question he’d asked of him before Shen Yuan left, regarding the compatibility of his fated one.

Would it be strange if I wrote a predestined romance, for once? As much as Shen Yuan favored subverting expectations, he was aware of what sold commercially. There was a structure that made their literature different from those in the Western market whose shocking narratives could not only arouse pity in their audience, but also a sense of awe, excitement, fear, and suffering.

Their protagonists were not always someone of high society; they often hailed from humble origins as a device for the writer to underscore the merits of working hard and to criticize the system—a fictional one though, to avoid absolute censorship by the Chinese government. Their heroes began as nothing more than a windblown leaf in the social structure and years of ethical traditions set in place. They started on the bottom rungs of society to draw people’s attention to their lives, to the injustice and unfairness, which made their struggles all the more impactful to the reader.

The fates of the leading characters were tied to the juxtaposition of the harmonious ideal of society and the reality of a flawed system. Chinese tales were inherently romantic oftentimes, with tragic conflicts written to emphasize the beauty of a bond and rousing sympathy and pity for their plight. The archetype of a tragic hero was meant to be presented so profoundly that great reverence would well up spontaneously in one’s heart.

In his opinion, Luo Binghe had suffered plenty.

Under normal circumstances, as Peerless Cucumber, Shen Yuan was the sort of novelist where it would not be considered strange for him to challenge the romantic notion of soulmates by making his leading characters comrades or adversaries instead of lovers.

It was like the overseas Inception movie; he’d satirized enough old and tired clichés, it almost became expected of him to subvert expectations for all of his publications.

Guilt weighed on his mind. While he understood the implicit reality of his situation, he still felt like he was, in some way, disappointing his audience. The shame he felt was bizarre.

He swallowed. “My cherished readers...,” Shen Yuan murmured to the void as though they could hear him, “forgive this writer if I don’t subvert your expectations in this aspect just this once.”

The harem was the closest Luo Binghe had to a family. After the parental kindness of the washerwoman was torn away from him early in his life, after having endured the unhealthy environment that followed, the only love and tenderness he received in his life came in the arms of beautiful women. Tokens of affection were given in the form of intimate acts. It was no wonder Bing gē’s character had ended up twisted. He collected lovers with a greed not unlike a hedonistic minister who accepted bribes.

What a complicated man. Shen Yuan’s heart ached for the “blackened hero.”

There were so many women in the harem. In the presence of Luo Binghe, each one was gentle, kind, respectful, and submissive. But it was unrealistic for one husband, who had undergone the traumas that he had, to share his heart equally amongst them and not expect any misgivings.

What this Luo Binghe needed was a foil to his temperament, somebody patient, charismatic, and well-educated. Since Luo Binghe would be uniting the Three Realms, they needed to be proactive keeping him in check from becoming a self-indulgent, fatuous ruler. They cannot be sensitive to criticisms and speculation. A sensible head was needed on their shoulders to guide their merciless husband in understanding right from wrong and from any sycophants looking to lead him astray. It was integral to help the protagonist maintain a harmonious empire so that, together, they could lead a golden age of reform.

Shen Yuan wondered if there even existed such an extraordinary person.

Luo Binghe’s reputation was already in tatters in the Mortal Realm on the account of having a demonic heritage and having razed down the great righteous sects. Whatever goodwill he’d originally cultivated with his deceptive “nice guy” act had to be regained. Winning the war against the son of heaven and finding a good match would be integral in swaying public opinion to his favor. In public, they must present a united front, ruthless against their adversaries but dependable towards their subjects. It was only over time that the Sacred Rulers would prove themselves worthy of being idolized and beloved by the masses.

The <<SYSTEM>> had said that he and Luo Binghe should work together and in the end, they would unlock the epilogue that blessed them with their star-crossed lovers.

Until such a person was found, he supposed he could step into the role as his counsel whenever Luo Binghe needed advice. It was like tossing a peach and getting a plum back. Celestial or not, Shen Yuan used to be the son of a family of manufacturing executives. His profession might have been as an author, but he was educated in the principles of economics. Aside from sharing the <<PROTAGONIST’S HALO>>, his modern knowledge and his knowledge of both novel series were his cheats.

Like the spring breeze that thawed the frozen soil, he would be someone who reached into the abyss and grabbed that bloodstained hand. He could set a standard for Luo Binghe to emulate as the type of wise leader he should be, and his handsome junior could learn from his modern examples and put some of them into practice for his kingdom.

He’ll enable him into becoming the best person that he could be. And maybe, just maybe, the new era might be salvageable and worthy of pride for generations to come for not only the immortals and demons, but for the mortals as well.

“I’d redeemed you once,” Shen Yuan declared, his lashes fanning against his cheeks. He closed his eyes in reminiscence of his own fanfiction, inhaling the light, woody scent of the censer nearby. “I can do it again.”

In the meantime, he reflected, I must collect more merits. I cannot be lazy and lag behind in accomplishments.

While Luo Binghe fought his battles, Shen Yuan would be fighting his own—whatever they might be. He would not be outshone by his junior in his own meteoric rise.

“...System?” he inquired drowsily, his voice barely above a whisper. Turning on his side, he stared at a faraway wall. The glazed white surface of the porcelain pillow felt cold against his cheek, its smoothness reminiscent of jade. “Can you hear me?”

Ping.

【This <<SYSTEM>> provides the Esteemed Host a 24-hour service.】

“I don’t remember Airplane brother going into detail about what the education system is like in this setting. Is it supposed to be historically accurate to the ancient feudal model or…?”

Ping.

As he listened to the long encyclopedic explanation, what he’d heard confirmed his worst fears. Education was the privilege of the elites. Immortal cultivators prioritized studying matters of the “spiritual heart” and Qi refinement, in the martial and mystical arts, breaking through the bottleneck of each cultivation stage until their dedication allowed them to reach the pinnacle that was the Ninth Stage.

With that narrow-minded focus on self-enlightenment, the basic education curriculum of the twenty-first century would be seen as innovative in the pre-established setting of this strange world.

In the early webnovels, Bing gē had stagnated as a late-stage Core Formation expert. Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, in his laziness to research the many intricate nuances of the Cultivation World, had waved it all away by attributing his protagonist’s OPness to his ancient, heaven-fallen demonic heritage and to the deus ex machina that was his legendary sword. Even then, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky still occasionally confused the Foundation Establishment with the Nascent Soul stages.

It wouldn’t be until the end of the series—after the outcry of the netizens—that the unsatisfied Luo Binghe made the breakthrough into the proper Nascent Soul stage with the help of his wives and their many gratuitous papapa scenes.

Then in the epilogue, the author had infuriatingly time-skipped all the way to the penultimate Ninth Stage, describing how Luo Binghe became a legend among legends who had finally attained eternal youth and aged back into his late twenties in his new immortal body after having miraculously passed the Heavenly Tribulations—disasters from heaven which were akin to nuclear radiation for those of demon blood. After an unspecified many years of rule, he’d left his legacy behind—with the uncountable size of his harem and a boundless number of his descendants “mourning the loss of a great and oftentimes misunderstood man.”

Just remembering it made Shen Yuan’s blood pressure spike dangerously. Taking deep, calming breaths, he rolled back onto his back as he forced himself to attain catharsis from listening to the mind-numbing exposition the <<SYSTEM>> was extolling to him like a history program. His fingers clenched the bed sheet.

Eventually he found himself feeling adrift, the words beginning to lose their coherency to him as he phased in and out of consciousness, his mind becoming wrapped in a haze of smoke. Soon his tense muscles relaxed.

The countdown had reached 00:00:00 when sleep finally claimed him.

Note: Small details of this scene might be subject to revision when the final draft comes out. Ch1-2 can be found on AO3. Link is in my bio!

[anhedonia2]

“I wish that I could keep you in a precious Chinese box / On Sundays I would pray for you, so it would never stop”

makes me think of self harm. because i keep it in a little red box. and i never seem to stop needing it.

[adora2723]

Supercorp

It was a precarious situation. Lena wondered how she always seems to find herself in the middle of those. Right now, Supergirl was tied to a wall, barely conscious due to the Kryptonite conveniently placed all around her; just the right amount to subdue her yet keep her aware of her surroundings.

Lena had just come to after being knocked unconscious by Eve in her office. She should have seen that coming, she thought to herself. Her head throbbed in sync to the beat of her pulse. She watched her brother pace back and forth in front of a screen, replaying what seemed like every interaction she ever had with Supergirl on a loop. Something wet and warm trickled down her forehead, and when she reached she found her fingers sticky with red, hot blood.

“Ah, finally! You’re awake. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for 13 minutes Lena. You know it’s rude to keep people waiting, I taught you better than that. Sit up straight! Respect is built on the foundation of propriety and composure. Show your big brother some respect! Then again, it is not entirely your fault is it? Miss Teschmacher may have been a tad bit... overzealous in her execution.”

“What am I doing here Lex?” Lena bit out.

“Yes of course, straight to the point as usual. You see, I told you, Lena, to always mind the company you keep. And sure, I can disregard many things... you sending me to jail: sibling rivalry. Changing the company name: petulant yet expected. But, working together with that alien scum to take me down is a betrayal I wasn’t expecting from you!” Lex’ voice started out as mild taunting but by the end had been consumed by rage. He was living up to his reputation as a mad man; wildly gesticulating, spit flying everywhere. If he had had hair it would be sticking out in all directions. So much for composure.

Of course Lena knew what this was about. She’s known for three weeks, ever since Lex escaped from prison, that he was going to come after her. She wasn’t really worried about herself; she knew their confrontation was inevitable. Neither could live as long as the other survived. If only her life was as magical as these novels. Unlike Harry though, she was all alone. No dependents who would suffer from her proximity, no family to mourn her untimely and cruel death, and no friends who would miss her during random lunch dates or impromptu game nights. Well, one friend. Kara. Kara was her solace in an otherwise dreary existence. Kara who she had come to care for as more than the best friend she pretended to be. Kara who she should have cut ties with as soon as she received the first foreboding letter. The letter, sent anonymously by Lex, that seemingly was just fanmail by a devoted admirer, sweetly relaying his adulation through Ancient Greek song. Turns out she could have avoided a tragedy, but she was Icarus flying too close to the sun, incapable to resist. She will pay the price for this.

“Let her go. Please! It is me you want. Take me!” Supergirl feebly tried to fight off her restraints. Her voice barely audible, rough and scratchy from exhaustion. Lena admired her perseverance. Supergirl’s sense for justice never seemed selfrighteous, a feat her cousin couldn’t quite pull off. Despite their dissent Supergirl didn’t falter in trying to protect her; maybe in a promise to Kara? Wishful thinking.

“There won’t be much of you left to take, Kryptonian! Besides, you have no value to me, no. This is personal. This time I came here to quench my thirst for revenge. You see, most people think we Luthors don’t have emotions. And usually they would be right in their assessment, however limited it might be. Average brains produce average results. But nothing about us Luthors is average. We are eminent, exceptional, extraordinary. And so are our feelings. And you,” he turned his burning eyes to Lena, “hurt mine. It is not just that. It is a matter of respect, isn’t it. How dare you drag our name through the mud-”

“Me?! I wasn’t the one who went on a suicidal mission-”

“How DARE you use MY company, my brain, my knowledge, my tech for the empowerment of those roaches ?!  HOW DARE YOU. Everything you have is because of me. Everything you built, every business deal you closed, every prestigious award you got, the recognition, the applaud, the esteem. EVERYTHING you are, is because of me. Without me you are nothing. I made you who you are and you go against me.” He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, seemingly gathering his composure. “How dare you betray me like that, sis?” He turned his back to her. Supergirl was stunned speechless, deliriously following Lex’ tirade. Lena used this opportunity to scan her surroundings. They were being held in what looked like some sort of cave. It was dark and moist, and the air smelled of sulfur. Against the confinements of the cavern Lex had constructed his head-quarters. The only exit was a tight tunnel, pitch-black and not very promising to aid them in their escape to daylight, it was also very inconveniently located on the opposite end of where Supergirl was tied up. And Lena was not leaving without her. Their future seemed dismal.

Lex took a deep inhale. “It is vile. What you did to me... I want you to feel it to. Before I kill you, I will see the same betrayal in your eyes and on your dying breath you will realise, that you were alone all along, just like me.” 

“She is not alone! And she will never be like you. Don’t listen to him Lena.” Lex laughed hysterically. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Supergirl. See, I realised some while ago that people with feelings tend to be more concerned about their loved ones. Indeed, they care more about those who are near and dear to them, completely disregarding their own self in the act, which turns out to be the grounds of their demise. And, unfortunately for you, Lena, you are as selfless and tempestuous as they come.” Lex paused for seemingly no other reason than dramatic effect. For a guy so aversed to theatrics he had a flair for ostentatious performance.

He side-eyed Supergirl surreptitiously. “Say, how is that reporter friend of yours? Kara Danvers?” Lex smirked mischievously. Supergirl began fidgeting frantically. Lena’s brain whirred to life. She started working through all the ways that this could play out at a highspeed. “What about her?” She chose nonchalance. She knew she had been putting Kara at risk by befriending her, but staying away seemed impossible. If anything happened to the bubbly reporter just because Lena wanted to indulge in a hopeless little crush, Lena would never forgive herself.

It might have even been more than a crush. Lena remembers the night vividly that she realised she was in too deep. They had known each other for a little over a year by then. Eventhough they were colleagues now (well, technically, she was her boss) the acquisition of Catco brought with it a shitload of paperwork, board meetings, and late-night phone calls that had to be dealt with, and Lena was stretched even thinner than usual. They hadn’t seen each other for a month after their reconciliation, and Lena was just happy to spend some quality time with her best friend who finally seemed to be over her ex. When Kara had initially invited her over Lena wanted to decline. Abstaining that long from Kara’s cheeriness had made her revert back to old customs. Lena had resigned herself to go back to being lonely, writing Kara off as a shooting star that briefly flew by to illuminate her firmament for a precious while, too good to last. But Kara had insisted and she couldn’t resist her pull. 

So she had made herself comfortable on Kara’s couch, dressed down in comfy clothes that no one was allowed to see her in except for Kara. She had ordered Chinese food, knowing Lena’s taste by heart, and while Lena was animatedly telling her about her childhood before she was adopted, Kara not so sneakily stole some chicken from her box. There was nothing new about that; Kara was known to be a voracious eater and often snuck some food in from foreign plates. What she did next, however, was unprecedented: she replaced the chicken with a potsticker from her own plate. She had spent enough time with the Danvers sisters to know that Kara sharing food had near-apocalyptic implications. But for her to do it so casually, while keenly and earnestly absorbing every word of Lena’s most treasured tales, that’s what made Lena’s heart simultaneously expand and implode at once. In the warmth of the fairy lights, lounging on the snuggly sofa, Lena lost her heart to riveting eyes and giddy laughter.

Now, she wished she would have closed her eyes and made a wish. Letting the shooting star take its destined course. Now, that star was gonna crash and burn, diminishing all hope in its wake, all because Lena could not stay away. Because Lena was selfish. “Don’t play dumb now, sis, inanity doesn’t suit you. We all know how you feel about that bimbo. Though I have to admit, you always had a keen eye for beauty. Unfortunately, you never bothered to look beyond what’s on the surface. Well, how do they say? ‘Love is blind.’ Isn’t it right, Supergirl?”

If they weren’t in a situation of life and death Lena would have been petrified. She was very careful to never show even an ounce of her overwhelming affection to anybody. Least of all people who she knew were connected to Kara and might tell her about Lena’s deplorable feelings causing Kara to finally abandon her, kindness be damned. Least of all people who had a unyielding sense of rectitude and might believe Kara had a right to know about what Lena was so desperately hiding. Least of all people like Supergirl.

Alas, she had more pressing matters to attend. “Don’t you dare touch her! You hear me, Lex, you go after her and you will regret the day you were born!” Lex’ grin turned from smug to wicked. “Oh, don’t worry little sis, I won’t even come near her. You see, it just happened to be the case that you, dearest Lena, embraced the provenance of your own demise. It just happens that delay is the deadliest form of denial. And you’ve been in denial for so long. We Luthors, we do feel emotions. Just not all of them, no, only the crucial ones. Avarice, pride, rage, and betrayal. Fuelling our power. And once you feel that betrayal, Lena, you will kill for me two birds with one stone. You will drive yourself to death in your quest for revenge and you will take that pathetic Supergirl with you. Feel the rage Lena. Feel the betrayal.”

Lex turned towards the screens mounted on the cave walls just as Supergirl tore free of her restraints in an anguished scream.                    

[lady-charinette]

Back to You - Marichat Fic

A/N: Cross-posted on FFnet and AO3.

Chat Noir sighed, carefully balancing his movements and jumps with his baton and the precious cargo in his arms as he navigated through Paris, straight towards a familiar bakery he frequented often lately.

Marinette seemed sound asleep in his arms but Chat's nerves were on edge.

An akuma had terrorized the citizens of Paris, but even though Ladybug managed to purify it and turn everything back to normal, she had vanished so suddenly he didn't even get a chance to ask her if she was alright.

Not even ten minutes after he himself planned to go home, he found Marinette, behind a thick wall near a park, unconscious on the ground.

He had tried not to think of the bruises, bruises on the same places his lady had gotten hit while fighting the akuma earlier. Maybe it had been pure coincidence, maybe the akuma had been playing a bad joke or maybe Chat Noir started losing his mind.

Whatever it was, he couldn't just leave the girl there. He still had time until he detransformed, so the best course of action was to bring her home quickly.

The weight against him felt comforting in some way, her head nestled against his shoulder and he pulled her just a bit closer, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. He could just kick himself. How didn't he notice her? How didn't he check up on possible injured akuma victims earlier? The Lucky Charm should have repaired any and all damages done by the akuma, he didn't understand how Marinette remained injured.

Whatever the case, he swore to himself, ever since the Evillustrator incident, that he would keep a closer eye on her, whether she wanted it or not.

He felt stirring against his chest, but when he looked down, Marinette's eyes squeezed shut, brows drew together, her hand curling against his chest and Chat's ears lowered when he recognized the expression, it was one of worry. He pulled her even closer to his body, so her head was safely tucked into the crook of his neck.

Slowing to a brief stop, Chat Noir brushed her bangs away from her face and ran a clawed finger carefully over the smooth skin of her cheek, "Marinette," his grip around her tightened and he resumed his hold around her, his pace speeding up.

The bakery was already in view and instead of jumping up to her balcony, Chat Noir bypassed a stunned old woman on his way into the bakery shop, ignoring the surprised gasp and the admittedly sweet-smelling delicacies baked in the kitchen.

Sabine and Tom quite nearly dropped everything in order to rush towards the leather-clad superhero and Chat Noir braced himself for the questions.

"Chat Noir! What-what happened to Marinette?" Sabine's eyes were full of worry, solely directed at her unconscious daughter.

Tom's own worry seeped into his voice, "Is she badly injured?"

Chat Noir cleared his throat, "Marinette fell unconscious after the akuma attack, I'm sorry, sir, ma'am, but I…I was too late to protect her," his ears flattened against his head, "It was my fault Marinette got hurt and I'm ready to face the consequences however you see fit,"

Tom and Sabine shared a look with each-other and Tom's large hand fell heavily on Chat Noir's shoulder, the cat themed superhero looked up at Tom's intimidating size, but the man smiled kindly, "Thank you for keeping her safe, Chat Noir. I'm sure you did your best trying to protect our little Marinette,"

Sabine nodded, smiling kindly at the stunned hero, "We always see you fighting akumas and trying to protect everyone, we understand you can't protect everyone," her face saddened as she looked at her unconscious daughter, "And…our Marinette is known to get into trouble," she shook her head, brushing away her daughter's hair.

Tom cleared his throat suddenly and Chat Noir looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, until he noticed his death grip around Marinette didn't relent. Embarrassingly, he carefully placed her in her father's awaiting arms, watching how her parents fawned on her worriedly and assessed her condition.

He was about to turn away and leave the little family, until Sabine suddenly said, "Are you injured, Chat Noir?" he froze, slowly turning to regard the parents of his friend and classmate.

Their worried gazes were now directed at him, he must look worse than he thought, "No, no, I'm fine, thank you," he bowed, "Please take care of Marinette and…" he hesitated, swallowing thickly, "…tell her I'm sorry,"

Sabine stopped him again with a hand on his shoulder, "Wait, young man," he blinked at her maternal tone, the Chinese woman quickly rushing behind the counter and retrieving a box.

When the box came close to him, Chat Noir smelled croissants and all sorts of baked goods, "Please take this as a token of our gratitude for saving our daughter," she smiled gently, eyeing his form critically, "You should eat more, you're still growing." She patted his shoulder in a motherly gesture, and it made Adrien's heart ache.

Hesitantly accepting the box of baked goods, Chat Noir bowed deeply at the waist, his ears flat, "Thank you very much,"

He rushed outside before his emotions got the better of him.

He knew Marinette would be alright with her parents there, but he couldn't stop the nagging little voice at the back of his head, which suspiciously sounded like his own, that convinced him to transform into Chat Noir again later that day to check up on her.

Landing with all the gracefulness of a cat on her balcony, Chat Noir made his way slowly to the little hatch door, looking into it. He couldn't see much, so he balanced on the small roof next to it and lowered himself upside down to her window.

Now it offered him a clearer view and he could see Marinette covered by blankets, sleeping.

He sighed in relief, allowing the open emotions to play on his face in the form of a warm smile.

He froze when he heard a high-pitched scream and looked back at Marinette, sound asleep, before running toward the iron railing of her balcony, looking at the street. Nobody else seemed alerted, people weren't running around in a frenzy or panic and there seemed to be no akuma.

Slowly moving away from the railing, Chat Noir sighed, shrugging. Must have been a little girl.

Resisting the urge to knock on her window, Chat Noir extended his baton and made his way back home.

He could visit Marinette again after school and see her during school as Adrien.

Everything would be alright.

The minute Marinette had walked into the classroom, everyone quietened down.

She was still feeling sleepy, partly exhausted from yesterday's events. The lucky charm should usually cleanse and repair everything the akuma did, but it seemed like she had underestimated her own enemies as she soon destransformed and collapsed somewhere.

When she had woken up, she was at home, her mom and dad doting on her and rushing through the house to shove cookies, milk and aspirin into her face.

She wished she had taken them up on the offer of food, at least then she would have stalled a little longer and avoided answering questions concerning a certain superhero.

She hadn't even known who brought her home, but when her mother looked at her with a knowing, far too mischievous look in her eyes, Marinette knew she had been doomed, "You know, next time you meet Chat Noir, you might want to invite him over for dinner, the boy looks far too skinny for his age. And he needs the strength to fight akumas alongside Ladybug, he would need all the help he can get, right?" she had winked at her and Marinette felt ready for the ground to swallow her up when her father intervened.

"I don't know about that sweetie, isn't it a little too early for dinner? I doubt he even properly took her out on a cup of coffee or dinner or something," her mother had rolled her eyes at her protective husband.

"Oh Tom, I think Marinette is old enough to know if she wants us to meet her boyfriend or not. I wished we had a little more time to get to know him before his superhero duties get in the way," her mother had sighed in disappointment, completely ignoring her stuttering, blushing daughter.

"Mom! Dad! It's not like that at all! Chat Noir is just a friend!"

"Oh, we know honey, we know,"

"Mom!"

Needless to say that conversation was one Marinette could have well avoided.

She slid onto her seat next to Alya, slumping on the desk and resting her head on it, sighing heavily.

"Is there something you want to tell me Marinette?" Alya's voice sounded far too low, she knew that tone.

Marinette's head shot up, looking at her quizzically until Alya practically shoved her phone at her face.

Marinette's cheeks blazed a burning red at what she saw.

Chat Noir, carrying her in his arms through Paris' rooftops and through the streets.

One shot in particular captured a stunned old woman, looking at the pair incredulously as Chat Noir went inside a building.

The building was the bakery shop of her parents.

She screamed.

"WHAT?! CHAT NOIR?! HOW CAN THIS BE?!" she clawed at her hair desperately.

"Hey Marinette, I saw you had a rendezvous with Chat Noir yesterday," Kim grinned suddenly from ear to ear, "Is it true that you guys have something going on?"

Juleka and Rose stared at their friend, Rose in particular looking bubbly and excited, "Marinette! You're in love with Chat Noir?! How comes you didn't tell us anything?" she jumped at the startled bluenette, hugging her tightly, "But what happened to your crush for Adr-"

"Shh Rose, shhh!" Marinette quickly clamped her hand over Rose's moving lips, confusing the oblivious girl when Juleka rolled her eyes playfully and smiled.

"Well, I think you've got some explaining to do, Marinette," for once, the quiet girl let a small smirk stretch over her lips.

Marinette was at a loss of words, internally cursing Chat Noir to oblivion.

"Yeah, I mean, who knew our sweet and shy Marinette could have a secret relationship with Chat Noir?" Mylene looked excited, smiling brightly. Poor Nathaniel apparently heard her, for her sunk even further in on himself, with Kim roughly patting his shoulder to console the smaller boy.

Marinette flailed with her arms wildly, her face a dark pink, "N-no, w-wait you got it all wrong!" Alix suddenly swung her arm around Marinette with a devilish grin.

"Do we? But it looked like he kissed on one of the pictures! Are you sure there's some romance going on, Mari?" she giggled, smiling broadly at Marinette's flabbergasted expression.

Alya giggled and despite wanting to desperately know the truth for herself, comfortingly placed her arm around her friend's shoulders and regarded their friends, "Alright girls, I think poor Marinette will have a meltdown if we tease her anymore, we can ask her for details later," Alya winked, promising no good as the girls eagerly dispersed with matching smiles.

Marinette groaned, slapping her hand against her face, "Alya! I-I can't tell you anything about Chat Noir because there is nothing to tell!"

Alya crossed her arms, "Then what about the pictures, hm? After all, a picture says more than a thousand words," she lifted her finger, sharing a smirk with Nino over her shoulder.

Marinette groaned, "It's true, he did save me a couple of times, but we aren't a couple! You have to believe me! Chat Noir was…just there when I was in danger and he's my good friend," she sounded sincere and Adrien listened intently to every word she said, feeling weird emotions stirring within him.

She likes Chat Noir? She thinks of him as a good friend?

Adrien coughed into his hand, watching Nino have a large smile on his face as he watched the exchange between the two girls.

Adrien knew who had sent that photo to their class group, it had been Nino.

Adrien frowned suspiciously at his friend, "What is going on here? Are you tailing Chat Noir?"

Nino stared at his friend, "Dude, did you just…pun?" he shook his head, "I swear Adrien, you're starting to get bad with these puns again," he sighed, "W-well, I don't know what you mean…I'm not tailing anyone," he whistled innocently and Adrien narrowed his eyes.

"Adrien, your Chat Noir is showing again," Plagg snickered from the inside of his jacket and Adrien roughly patted his chest in order to silence him.

"How comes you get all these cool snaps of him?" Adrien tried to behave as casual as possible.

Nino rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm…just in the area, I guess," he shrugged but a relentless look from his best friend broke his defenses as he threw a cautious glance over his shoulder at Alya, "Alright, alright dude listen. You have to be quiet or Alya will kill me!" Adrien rose an eyebrow, "Look, Alya persuaded me to follow Chat Noir around whenever I see him and take photos of him together with Marinette!"

Adrien's eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed his best friend's shoulders, "What?! But I-I mean I'm sure Chat Noir didn't notice anything since he would have surely, uh, said something to you right?" he chuckled nervously, a low hiss in his jacket making him feel embarrassed.

Nino blinked, staring weirdly at his friend, "Dud what got you so nervous? Well, anyway, I don't think he noticed me at all, must have been too busy with Marinette and saving Paris with Ladybug to notice," he smirked, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially into Adrien's ear, "But dude, you think he has something going on with Marinette? I mean, I saw it with my own eyes after seeing them that one time on her balcony,"

Adrien frowned, his own emotions in chaos.

"Nino is right, what is this that I or Chat Noir have with Marinette? I mean, I love Ladybug but every time I think of her, Marinette appears in my mind and she reminds me more and more of her… Besides, it's not like I don't like spending time with Marinette, she's so carefree and herself when with Chat Noir but so nervous around Adrien…" Adrien sighed heavily, looking as troubled as he felt as Nino placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Dude, you alright man? You look troubled, what's eating at you?" Nino smiled reassuringly when Adrien look at him and the blond sighed.

"Nothing, I…I guess it's hard to imagine Marinette with a guy when she's so nervous here in school," he chuckled nervously.

Nino deadpanned, "You mean so nervous around you?" he smirked, "Oh, is someone jealous?"

Adrien's eyes widened, "No, no, no of course not!" even to him, those were too many no's, "I mean, Marinette is just a very good friend," he smiled, trying to keep his cool, trying to let Chat Noir's bravado creep into his civilian life.

It seemed Nino was convinced, for now, "Fine…whatever you say dude," he smirked, laughing quietly.

He would need to be more careful as Chat Noir in the future, especially when visiting Marinette.

He felt a strange wave of satisfaction and embarrassment wash over him when Marinette turned into a stuttering, blushing mess when Alya insinuated…something explicit going on with Chat Noir's apparent nightly visits to her house.

Adrien chuckled, he couldn't hide the Chat-like grin from stretching on his lips.

Really, he couldn't.

[jay-and-dean]

Love me once, shame on me Chapter 3 : Teach me.

Dean x named reader (is this a thing ?)

Love me Once, Shame on me MASTERLIST

Serie Warnings : Violence, swearing, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex (you are smarter than this), Fluffy fluff.

Chapter warnings : Violence, swearing, angst, smut, loss of virginity, fluff.

Words : 7k (yeah... I know)

Chapter summary : Dean can’t say no anymore.

          I walk through Lebanon, tired, terrified. Dean will pick me up and I’ll have to be close to him, I’ll have to sit in his beloved car and smell him everywhere. And he will take me home… Sometimes I wish I had never met him, sometimes I wish I could forget just like he did. But most of the time my memories are the only precious thing I own and I play his voice telling me he loves me in repeat in my head.

           My phone rings and it’s a text from him. The first one in fourteen years, the very last one said “Can’t wait. Love you so much”, this one says “Hi it’s Dean, where are you ?”. I’m going to be sick.

           When I start to write an answer, looking around me to give him precise indications, the Impala parks next to me. He comes out of it and my heart stops again. It’s like my life had been in black and white all those years, dark and cold, he’s the colors, he’s the sun, just him being here lights up everything. I look at him coming toward me in his grey flannel and black jacket and my stomach hurts. Perfect Dean, how could you forsake me ?

“Hey” he says with a light smile.

I try to smile but I know it’s sad, I can’t do better.

“You okay ?” he asks with that deep velvety voice I love even more than the one he had when he was mine.

“Yeah… yeah. Thank you for your help and your invitation you know… about the case”

God, I sound so awkward.

“No problem” he says opening the passenger door.

           This car is so much more than a car, its smell, above all, makes a tornado of memories rush inside me, threatening to drown me for good. While he goes around the car I can’t help but open the glove box?

It’s still there.

J.

The mark he carved one night, hidden inside the glove box to prevent his father to see it. “One day I’ll carved it next to mine and my brother’s initials” he had said. And I had believe him. I close it before he enters and smile at him the best I can.

“Let’s go” he says starting the car.

And for a moment I loose myself in the sound of the engine, thinking of that time I fell asleep, head on his knees, with him stroking my hair.

“So… any hunt since the last time we saw ?” he asks a bit awkwardly, trying to break the silence.

“Hum, no. I… I have to find a job, I’m broke. My car died and can’t be fixed, I have to by a new one…”

“Maybe I could” he says with a shrug.

“No, I don’t think so, it fell off a cliff. Long story.”

“Ooookay… I want to hear that story one day !” he says with a warm smile I still can’t offer back.

******************************

2005

I kissed her. I fucking kissed her. I put her in danger, told her about the supernatural and kissed her. She’s in high school for Christ sake !

I kissed her twice, once chaste and once passionate. And I fucking left. I am a mess, John would kill me and he would be right. Now all I can think of is to see her again because she’s my friend and I can’t imagine spending the evening alone, knowing she’s too. I should leave town. Tell her I have to go and leave before I make more mistakes.

The motel room is not only dirty, ugly and smelly, it’s also sad. I try to call dad but he didn’t answer, so I’m cleaning my guns in silence, thinking about her.

Three knocks on the door. Maybe it’s dad ! Or, maybe it’s the fat smelly neighbor again, asking for condoms, yuk.

“Hey Dean, if you felt bad about this kiss you could just have told me ! I thought something bad happened to you !” she says lifting her hands.

I can’t believe she’s here. I look outside, seeing her old car parked next to the Impala.

“How… how did you find me ?” I ask, not even thinking to invite her in.

“I looked for your car, took me some time” She says with a hint of sadness I rarely see in her eyes. “If, if you don’t want to see me again, just say so, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No… no. It’s just… It’s complicated. Come in.” I finally say.

           She looks at the guns on the bed and at the Chinese box food on the table. After I told her I have nothing here to give, no beer, no coffee, nothing, I offer her to sit on the bed. She does, carefully, not to mess the guns up, looking around her.

“I’m sorry about the kiss…” I dare and she lifts her beautiful eyes on me.

“You don’t have to. It was a great kiss” she smiles.

“I don’t usually kiss my friends. Even less illegal ones” I joke carefully.

“Okay” she just says. “So I’m your friend” she adds with a wide smile.

���Of course you are !”

           She makes it so easy as always. And the day after, I pick her after school again, not even trying to pretext a reason, she’s just my friends and it’s the weekend now, we can hang out.

           At her place, outside as always, we talk, drinking a beer and eating the mac and cheese she made in bowls. I tell her about my mom and the quest my dad and I are in since then. I tell her about Sammy, without realizing it, I talk to her about what I felt when he left, and about my dad’s wrath. She’s so good at listening.

           She talks to me about the abusive foster family she lived with, about the street, the hunger and the fight to keep her dignity, to resist selling herself for food… She talks to me about her dreams : She’s good at learning, and maybe one day she’ll go to college, if she works hard enough. She’ll go to college and she will travel the world. She says she needs to see the world out of this stupid town. She has a lot of dreams… And under the tiny lights she puts in her world to lighten it, I drink her words.

           When I ask her for the bathroom, she lets me in for the first time. It’s very small in here, but she made it sweet too. Her bedroom is not a bedroom, it’s just a large bed, like there was a square big hole on the wall leading directly on a mattress, with a lot of pillows. It’s like she was sleeping in a solid camping bed, and, like the little lightbulb stars outside, this is enchanting.

           She as only one little table, with a unique chair (apart from the ones outside) and the table is covered by books and notebooks. I never realize she worked so hard. I barely fit in the bathroom and I can grab her shower product while peeing. Her shampoo smells so good, I shouldn’t be smelling it I guess.

“It’s nice inside” I say going out again, making her get up to pass by her, before she sits on the step again.

“It’s small, but as you can see I’m outside all the time. At least the weather is great here” she says handing me another beer.

When I take it, my hand touches hers and I can’t help but look at her deeply. She’s beautiful, not only because her eyes are so bright, and her skin so soft. But it’s her attitude, the way she moves and talks, that habit she has to play with the hair that escape her messy bun on her neck, the way her eyes become mischievous every time she smiles.

I want to kiss her again.

“What ?” she asks reading my face as usual.

“Nothing” I whisper looking down, peeling the beer label.

“Okay. So you were telling me that story about the…”

“I was thinking about kissing you again” I cut her and she freezes.

“I… I guess I can’t blame you Dean…” she murmurs.

“Why ?”

“Because I have to concentrate not to think about it every time I lay my eyes on your lips” she smile shyly biting her lip.

I throw myself at her and capture her lips with mine, loudly sighing with relief. This time she wraps her arms around me and touches my neck eagerly, kissing me back. Her tongue dance with mine like we were making love and I feel myself getting hard. I should break the kiss to breath, I should break it before she feels my enthusiasm, but I can’t stop kissing her.

And I already know I won’t be able to stop.

***************************

           The rest of the drive is silent. We’ve never been silent. I mean, we have, because we wanted it, because we were laying in my bed, looking at each other with love after sex, or because I was studying and he was just looking at me, drinking coffee almost naked. But we’ve never been silent like this, like we don’t know what to say, like things weren’t easy between us.

           When I look at him, I see Dean, my Dean, my love. But also a total stranger, like he was another man. This makes me incredibly sad because the more I see this Dean, the one that isn’t mine, the more I miss mine. But maybe it is a good thing, maybe I won’t love this new Dean. Maybe my scars will heal… Maybe.

           When he opens the bunker’s door, my breathing stops. I’ve never seen such a beautiful, huge yet so intimate place. It smells like leather and old books and Dean. Heaven. We go down the stair in silence, me following him and he starts to talk.

“This is the war room, you remember I told you we inherited it from the Men of Letters ? So this place have been built for this job, which is, you know, convenient” he says. “Sam is in the library… as always…”

           Sam shows me the place and I love it even more. I will never have something this nice, and I think about the crappy motels I sleep in. I remember telling Dean, my Dean back then, that I’ll never want a home. I was wrong, so wrong. I thought I didn’t need it just because I already had one, it was tiny and humble and lonely, but at least it was mine. My bed smelled like me and even like him after that, it didn’t smell like stranger’s sweat, mold and bleach. I had a home and I thought travelling meant living on the road, but it really meant that you had a home to come from and to come back, otherwise it’s just roaming. And I burnt it down. My tiny little nest, I burnt it to the ground.

“You can put you bag in here, this bedroom is free, and not too cold at night, you can have it while you stay” Sam says opening a door.

“Thank you Sammy… Sam” I stammer.

Dean always said Sammy, it came like that. He looks at me with a hint of amusement and leaves me alone in the room.

           After my bag is on the bedroom chair, I take a minute to breath. This is a lot to take in and my legs are shaking.

“Hi!” says a smiley voice behind me, making me jump. “I’m Jack, and you must be Jay.”

“H-hi Jack. I heard a lot about you” I smile easily as his own thrilled face is contagious.

           Dean cooked. And he cooked well. No marshmallow on nachos or cereal in orange juice like he told me about. He made burgers, and it’s delicious. He sat in front of me at the kitchen table and I have trouble eating, my throat is tight and my stomach hurts.

           Sam is talking about angels and their ability to erase memories. He asks me a lot of questions and I try not to use unnecessary lies.

“So your friend suddenly lost every memories of you fourteen years ago ? That’s what you said, right ?” he asks.

“In fact, I don’t know when she lost her memories. We were good friends and then she disappeared, and after that I learned that she didn’t remember me at all, like I never existed. No medical issue, no head trauma. And she remembered everything but me.”

“Why would angels erase just you from her memories ?” Jack asks.

“That’s complicated” Dean grunts. “Maybe someone did that to protect her, sometimes it’s the only way”.

I can see Sam and he know something Jack and I don’t. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but Dean seems to be justifying this choice, so I guess he already did it : use an angel to erase someone’s memory. Shit I’m so lost.

“Why me ?” I ask in a whisper. “She was my only friend, we were both human. Why an angel would bother to take me from her life ? I always… I always thought it was a monster. I just don’t know which one and why.”

“It would be easier if we could talk to her” Sam says and I panic, even if I thought about that.

“You can’t. She’s dead now.”

“Do you know how she died ? Was it supernatural ?” Dean asks and I look deep in his eyes.

“Nothing supernatural…” I say more sadly than I expected.

**********************

2005

           I kissed her for what feels like hours I think and I feel like a teenager. Horny and exited, addicted to her and nervous. She’s straddling me on that folding chair, looking in my eyes while I randomly kiss her lips and her jaw. I slip my hand under her tank top and rub the skin of her back, she shivers. She suddenly seems nervous, and I can feel her thighs contract.

“Are you okay ?” I ask almost breathless.

“Yeah” she smiles but I can see she’s hiding something.

“If you don’t want me to go further, tell me now, please” I say, feeling my body will soon take control of me.

“No, I want it…I just. I don’t want you to be disappointed…” she looks down, taking my pendant in her trembling hand.

“Why would I be ?” I ask taking her hand in mine.

“Because I’m not so experienced, at all… Dean… that kiss last night… it was… my first. Kiss” she whispers and my hearts starts pounding.

“Are you serious Jay ?”

“Are you mad ?” she asks with worry, letting my necklace go.

“What ? No ! I just… I can’t do that. You’re too young and I’m not… I’m not a boyfriend, I’m your friend. A horny friend. But you deserve better than that for your first time.”

           She told me she was okay with me going back to the motel. She smiled and she told me everything was okay. But I still feel bad. I shouldn’t have stolen her first kiss, I shouldn’t have gone so far, why can’t I just keep a friend ? She’s not a sexy waitress, she’s a high school student. What am I doing ?

           I messed up, again. I didn’t want her to think I was avoiding her like last time, and I desperately wanted to see her, so I came to the trailer.

           And here I am, hardly an hour after I joined her, taking her in my arms to kiss her again. Shit. She wraps her arms around my waist under my leather jacket, my Henley the only thing keeping her soft hands from touching my burning skin.

“I’m not having sex with you” I say against her mouth, taking her lip between mine straightaway.

“I know” she sighs in my mouth. “I know…” she whispers kissing my jaw.

I press her against the trailer and deepen the kiss. I’m so fucking hard it hurts. This is ridiculous. I break the kiss, leaving her panting, and take a step away.

“I don’t care that you’re not boyfriend material, Dean. I would really love my first time to be with someone I care about, with someone I trust” she pants.

“No.”

She shrugs and throws herself at me, kissing me again.

“Dean” she moans and that sound makes my cock twitch.

“No” I pant.

The water is cold. Of course ! I already took two long showers today, it’s the only place in this motel room that doesn’t smell funny. I stop the water and keep touching myself anyway, my hand moving in steady movement around my cock, my breathing heavy. I don’t have to think about much, just remembering the feeling of her against me makes me hard as rock, and now I just think about her moan of my name“Dean”, imagining her hand in place of mine. She must taste so good, has she ever come like that ? I don’t think so… Her body is, fuck, her body must be so reactive… Is she touching herself thinking about me right now ? Oh fuck ! I come with a groan and rest my head on the tiles.

I thought touching myself before joining her would help, but it’s even worse. Now she’s stuffing pizza in her mouth searching through my tape collection and all I can think of is her hand around my cock, like I imagined in the shower.

“This one is great !” she squeals. “I wish I had something to play them. But my radio broke and now I have nothing to play music. Nevermind ! It’s always a party in here” she says pointing at her head and I smile moved by her enthusiasm.

           Despite myself, I bend and kiss her lips softly, it makes her chuckle and she puts a hand on her lips for a moment, chewing faster and swallowing her pizza quickly. She’s so adorable. Then she smiles and bites her lip, taking my face in her hands. I kiss her tenderly, not rushing this one into a horny makeout session. I just want to feel her face so close to mine.

           After a while, she looks me in the eye and sighs.

“Dean… Why don’t you want to be my first ? I swear I’m not planning a wedding, just…”

“No.”

“Does it disgust you ? Is it a problem ?” she asks seriously.

“Of course not, there is nothing disgusting about it, or about you…”

“If I wasn’t a virgin we would have had sex, am I right ?” she asks and I see her genius brain working behind her eyes.

“I guess, but…”

“So If I’m not a virgin anymore you won’t be afraid to deprive me of a romcom deflowering or whatever ?” she smiles.

“What ?”

She suddenly gets up and takes her glass in the air, yelling toward nothing.

“Beware boys ! I’m putting my virginity on sale ! If any of you have the guts not to be a gentleman, he can have it right now !”

I can’t help but laugh, catching her in my arms and putting a hand firmly on her mouth.

“Stop that ! That’s not how it works ! Don’t be stupid” I say, I little afraid she would do that for real.

“And how does it works ?” she asks in my hand.

“You’re too young” I state.

She puts my hand away and rolls her eyes.

“Come on Dean I’m eighteen !”

“Not yet” I state pointing my beer at her.

“Smartass” she sighs.

“You’re the smartass !”

           I open my eyes and blink at the intensity of the light coming from outside. I feel chilled and warm. Jay is there, her eyes closed, her head resting on my chest, arms around me. Just then I realize I’m sleeping in her bed, we fell asleep talking and kissing in the middle of the night.

           I look at her. Her face is always so expressive and now she’s still and quiet, she looks so peaceful. Her hand is firmly wrapped on my ribs, like she was afraid of letting me go, and I love feeling her so close to me. I gently stroke her hair not to wake her up and keep looking at her. Shit I want to spend the day like that.

“You keep being my first everything” she murmurs in a light smile, her eyes still closed. “I had never slept with anybody in my life.”

“Really ?”

“Yeah… No one ever picked me up after school, and no one ever offered me chocolate. Plus the kiss….”

“You are barely awake and you’re already asking me to have sex with you !” I say lifting one arm in the air.

She smiles and gets up suddenly, making me wince. She laughs and puts her feet on the ground, rubbing her adorable sleepy face.

“Coffee ?”

I nod.

           I don’t go back to the motel. Not once during the entire weekend. I sometimes check my phone, but there’s no news from dad. After coffee she asks me if it bothers me that she finished writing an essay, because she doesn’t want to do it on Sunday evening. It doesn’t. I tell her I have some shopping to do and she just shrugs as she is already focused on her work. Our dynamic is well-founded, like we’ve been friends for years.

           I buy food and beer, and at the store, I come across her shampoo. I smell it like a fucking creep… Then I buy a radio that reads tapes.

           She is so thrilled when I give it to her, I think she almost cries. And we spend the rest of the day listening to my tapes, talking about the meaning of the songs, replaying guitar solos, debating about our preferences.

           When she loves a song, really loves it, she can’t help but dance. Always. She’s there, moving her shoulders with the drums as I assure her this is not the best song of the album.

“Shut up ! You know nothing about music !” she says getting up to mime playing guitar.

Before I can hold back, I get up and kiss her with desire, moaning on her lips while she clings to me, flattening her breasts on my chest. It’s like the music goes louder and louder around us, like the climax scene of a movie. The enchanting tinsel embellishing the sky with more stars, the warm wind of the young night, the smell of the wood, the touch of her tongue… everything is overwhelming. I want her so bad. Her kisses are more confident than the first time, and they’re perfect. She learned to kiss on my lips, it’s like she’s made for me.

           I start to nibble her jaw and her throat, she lets her head back to grant me full access. Her hands comes under the hem of my Henley, the soft very shy brush of her fingers making me shiver. I take two steps to steady her against the trailer and she wraps her legs around me.

“Wow… stop, Jay, stop” I manage to say before my brain totally shuts down, taking her hands away from my skin.

“No ! Not again, Dean. Fuck you” she says getting off of me and pushing me back.

She pants and looks at me in the eye, flushed and shaking, with an angry frown, her lips mime a fuck you, and she goes inside her trailer.

           After a few minutes alone outside, I don’t know if she wants me gone or not. And I can’t let this perfect day finish like that, so I knock on her trailer.

“Who is this ?” she yells.

“Are you serious ?” I ask lifting my hands on disbelief.

She opens the door and looks at me biting her lips. With her hand she tells me to come in.

“I’m still mad at you” she says sitting on her bed, with a pout. “Would you stay tonight, just to sleep ? Or am I too young ?”

***********************************

           I'm looking at the ceiling again, trying to ease the pain in my chest. I hear nothing, Sam went to bed so I went to my room, I can't be alone with Dean again.

           A knock on my door. I get up and arrange my long sleeves shirt to hide the scars. Even at night I keep it, giving myself only small times of intimacy to look at the lines on my forearms.

           Dean. Dean is at my door, I was hoping it would be Jack.

"Hey, I was thinking... maybe you'd like to have a drink. I just opened a nice bottle of whiskey" he says showing me the bottle in his hands.

He looks at me with kind eyes and I want to slap him. Why would he want to spend time with me ? After what he did... Except he doesn't remember, according to him we just met.

"Hum. Okay Dean" I just say with a little more bitterness in my voice that I intended to.

           Sitting at the library table I watch him take two glasses to serve us. I just can't get over how perfect he is to me : This smooth pain behind his eyes, this incredible way of being big and strong, moving like a warrior, while being the most comforting figure I ever lay eyes on, this way he rubs his face when he's tired -he still does that...-

"So..." he tries. "When did you start hunting ?"

I sigh and breathe painfully. He looks at me strangely, like he was afraid of bothering me. I haven't been so friendly to him, I have to be nicer. He did nothing to me, I mean, this Dean has done nothing to me.

"I hunted a little with my boyfriend by eighteen. When he..." I clear my voice. "Left. I started hunting alone."

"I started  with my dad" he says, obviously embarrassed by the sorrow in my voice.

"Yeah I know" I smile kindly, the best I can. "I read the books."

"Oh, come on ! Not you !" he rolls his eyes and that makes me smile for real because I always loved his annoyed look…

           Morning. Sam is sitting at the table reading a spell book. I put a coffee in front of him. This night have been awful, sobbing in my bed for hours, tortured by exhaustion and the massive hole in my chest. Talking with Dean for almost two hours made everything worse and I couldn't breathe properly for hours, feeling the ache caused by his absence in every cell of my body. It took three pills to put myself to sleep for only four hours, and a very cold shower to reduce the marks of pain on my face.

"What if it was a spell ?" Sam says taking the coffee. "What if a witch made your friend forget ?"

"Maybe, but why ?" I say.

"I'm calling Rowena."

           When Dean comes out of the bathroom, my entire body starts to shiver.

"Who is he talking to ?" he asks me with his grumpy morning voice and I can't stop staring at him.

"Rowena" I say.

Just then I realize he's staring too. With a strange look on his face, he searches my face. Almost like he knew, like he felt the connexion for an instant.

"Rowena is in Scotland, she comes back in three days." Sam says breaking the strange silence between his brother and I. "You could stay. I mean, if you want."

"I hum..." I look at Dean and feel a hint of panic grow inside my stomach. "I don't know."

"Oh okay..." Sam just says.

And I realize how ungrateful I am being, the man is trying to help me.

"I just, I just don't want to bother you guys" I say trying to be nicer.

"Don't worry about that" Dean says with this low voice that always makes me quiver.

           On the first day I stayed in the library with Sam and Jack, looking for everything that could talk about memory loss. We eliminated strange theories about ancient gods and a Chinese monster. Dean stayed in his room almost all day until he came out with his laptop in his hand.

"I've got a case" he said. "I can go alone."

The idea of him being so close is painful, but the idea of this bunker without him in it is unbearable. So when Sam looks at me asking if I wanted to stay here doing research, I tell them we should go for that hunt together, while wanting for Rowena.

*****************************

2005

           I look at my watch. She must be out by now, almost every student left school, but no sign of Jay. I Start to worry, what if something happened to her ? I dropped her off just here this morning, after spending every damn minute of the weekend with her, she knows I'm waiting for her, we talked about going to that diner that serves the best chocolate milkshakes according to her. I check my phone, no news from dad.

           Then I see her, she talking with a boy. I frown looking at the spiky hair douche bending to talk to her closer. What is she doing ? The way she's acting, I never saw her like that, not even with me she's pulling her stomach in and laughing like she had no brain. Fuck, she's flirting !

           Without even thinking twice I get out of the car and walk toward them, clenching my fists in my pockets. She sees me and smiles with that real, wide smartass smile of hers. The guy turns around and stares at me unimpressed, I want to punch he's stupid little snot's face.

"I was waiting for you" I groan.

"Dean, this is Matt. Matt is nice and I was thinking about inviting him home tonight" she says with a smirk that makes me want to slap her.

"Are you serious ?" I ask, looking down at the boy.

"Who are you creep ?" says Matt.

I have to clench my fists not to punch him. I take her by the arm and drag her with me toward the car. I hear the guy ask her how I am and she yells I'm her brother, laughing. When she's in I slam the door and try to calm not to yell at her. I want to tell her she's acting inconsiderably but the truth is I am jealous. Burning with fear, nauseous at the idea of that boy touching her, fucking her quickly in a locker room, without even looking at her, and telling his friends how he just fucked the weird girl. I hate myself for thinking so low of her.

           When I park next to her trailer, I haven't said a word yet, and her impish smile has fade. I get out of the car and so does she. She stands there, looking at me with a serious look.

"I'm going back to the motel" I say coldly.

"No" she says surprising me.

"Yes I am, Jay. This is stupid, you're going to far" I try not to scream.

"You're stupid" she shrugs.

"I am... What ? What were you doing there, huh ? Trying to make me jealous ?" My anger is creeping.

"Tell me you don't want me" she orders and I notice her burning eyes are wet.

"What ?" the sadness in her tone makes me answer softer. "You know I do."

"Tell me you don't want me or take what you want" she repeats coldly. "Or I'll sleep with Matt."

"Are you... Fuck !" I say taking my head in my hands. "Are you serious ? You want a douche bag to screw you selfishly in the back of his truck ? Is that what you want ?" I finally yell.

"This is what I get, Dean !" she yells back at me, tears filling her eyes.

"What are you talking about ?"

"Come on Dean ! I live in a stolen trailer ! My microwaves broke a year ago and I still eat my pizza cold because I have no money to buy a new one ! I'm a weirdo ! I never had real friends and I never got out of this shitty town ! I'm not even sure I ever will ! What do you think ? That I will have many friends like you in my life ?" A tear comes down her cheek and she stops screaming. "When you leave I'll never see you again, and eventually it will be Matt or another Matt for me... I just... Maybe you just don't want me, say it."

I take her in my arms, squeezing tightly. I sigh. She thinks so low of herself it hurts to hear.

"It won't be Matt, or any Matt. You're a warrior and everything you dream of will come true because you'll fight for it. Just like you fight for me. Nothing can resist you" I kiss her forehead and she breathes heavily in my arms.

           Night fell and I everything went quiet again. I asked her if she was hungry and, as she was, I took her to that diner we were supposed to go. After her burger she couldn't finish her milkshake, so I drank it after mine, and now I feel so full I can't even drink that beer she gave me back to her trailer.

"You look tired" she says to me and I shrug, not sure if I'm tired of sad, really.

Why everything has to be so complicated in life ?

"Come on" she says, dragging me inside. "I'm taking a quick shower and we can sleep... If you still want to sleep here."

I smile and she disappears inside her small bathroom. After a few minutes she comes out wearing her sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Fuck, no bra. I was already sitting on her bed and she climbs it like a cat, laying behind me. I take my jacket and shoes off, and lay.

           Turning toward her I look at her face, she already is staring at me. She smiles and reaches for the light to turn it off as usual, but I catch her and before she can.

           I bend on her and slowly brush my lips against hers. She takes a shaky breath. I kiss her once, twice and then deepen the kiss, caressing her tongue with mine. My hand comes to her side and she wraps her arms around my neck, playing with my hair as she always does. As I kiss her, my body comes above hers and she spreads her legs.

           This is it, I want her too much. My hands come to her chest and I take one covered breast in my hand, moaning at the feeling of her nipple finally poking my fingers. She slips her two hands under my shirt and takes it up my back touching my skin eagerly all the way up.

"Dean" she moans and I break the kiss to look into her eyes.

She's flushed and burning, her eyes dark with desire, but her breathing short with nervousness. I let my hips down to let her feel me through our clothes. Her eyes widen when my crotch comes in contact with her pussy.

"You can still tell me to go home" I pant.

"No. Please no. I want you, I'm just..." she stammers.

"I know. What did you experienced yet ?" I ask, trying to resist the urge to thrust against her.

"Hum... Nothing" she says biting her lips with worry.

I take a deep breath and kiss her jaw.

"Not even to yourself ?" I try while nibbling at her throat angrily.

"I touched... Wow, this is... Dean this is... Oh God" she moans.

I smile against her and start to gently move my hips, just to give her, and me, some friction ; her body shivers and she lets out a deep moan of pleasure, her hands coming at my butt to try and press me more against her.

"More" she begs and I get up to open my jeans.

"Can you..." she starts shyly, and then she hides her face in her hands.

"If we're going to do that, I want you to talk to me" I say taking me belt off.

"Can you take off your shirt, Dean ?" she finally whispers.

I take it off, kneeling between her thighs and she bites her lips in a sigh.

"You are..." she starts.

But her hands come up to reach my chest and she starts exploring me, her soft hands everywhere on my skin. I come down to kiss her again, her palms never living me, wrapping around me.

           Going slow, I take her tank to above her head and her hands come to hide her chest.

"No, no" I say taking her hands away. "You have nothing to hide."

When I bend to take one of her nipple in my mouth, she squeals in surprise and her body starts to shake. She's delicious, and her skin makes me go crazy.

"Dean, this is..." she moans.

"Tell me" I order, kissing and biting at her sweet skin, rubbing my thumb on her other nipple. "How do you feel ?"

"I... Han ! I don't know. This is…" her breath is short and her hands are gently tousling my hair. "My lower belly is burning up. And... Fuck Dean my... I'm soaking my sheets."

Fuck. I have to stop and breathe because her words and the desperate tone in her voice is making me lose my cool. I can feel my cock pressing against my jeans and it starts to hurt.

           I get up again and take my jeans off, carefully keeping my underwear not to make her too nervous just now. Then I slip my fingers in the waistband of her sweatpants and slowly take it down. She's not wearing panties so I swear under my breath, looking at her, my mouth watering. She's shaking now, her legs trying to close, but I come between her thighs again, soaking my boxers with how wet she is.

"Wow, she says." You... you're..."

I can see the worry on her face, the feeling of my cock rubbing against her is scaring her. I'm not small, and she must be asking herself how she is supposed to take me in.

"Hey don't worry baby" I say kissing her softly. "Do you want me to stop ?"

"No" she says trembling. "Just, do you... is it always... Do you think I can ?"

"Of course you can, but if you don't want to..."

"I want to Dean. Kiss me, please touch me again"

One of my hands is in her hair, the other comes down slowly. I kiss her like she begged for and feel her all body shake when I brush my fingers against her pussy. She freezes and looks me in the eye. I can see she's trying not to panic, but she's terrified.

"Do you want me to stop ?" I ask again.

"No, but... What are you going to do ?" she whispers shyly.

"I need to prepare you. I'm going to put a finger..."

"Okay, okay !" she cuts me burning red, hiding her face again. "You're the expert."

"Look at me, Jay. Don't hide, kiss me" I ask. "You're beautiful. You're perfect."

My fingers find her clit and she loudly moans on my lips. I take my time, rubbing her clit carefully with my thumb while my fingers find her entrance, not entering yet, just exploring. She's panting and shaking.

"Dean I..." she tries but her words died on her red throat.

"You're about to come, let go baby" I say trying not to follow her down the cliff.

"But you..." she moans, her eyes unfocused, her hands grabbing my shoulders.

"Don't worry about me. You're perfect, baby."

Saying that I slip a finger insider her and she clenches around me. She swears incoherent words and I slip another, making her dig her nails on my skin. She's so tight I start to get nervous too, will I hurt her ? What if we can't... It feels like I'm filling her completely with just two fingers, how am I supposed to...

           But all of my thoughts suddenly fade when she comes ardently. Her mouth opens wide without making any sound, her body shakes like she was convulsing with pleasure, her beautiful breasts pointing at me, her pussy clenching hard around me, keeping my fingers inside her and trying to reject them in the same time, soaking my hand. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and felt.

           It's like I'm the virgin, I feel like I could come right now, my dick still in my pants. Getting up I take my boxers down my thighs, and grab a condom in my wallet, on my jeans pocket. Just touching myself to put it on me is a challenge.

           She’s looking at me dizzy and breathless. Her hands search me hazily and grip me when I lay between her thighs again. My cock is at her entrance and I can feel her body tense.

“Don’t tense, baby” I kiss her lips and her face.

When she deepens a kiss, lost in me, focused on my mouth, I start to push inside her slowly. She frowns and opens her mouth slightly, her beautiful eyes piercing mine. My forehead comes to rest on hers and I feel how intensely I am stretching her, feeling her body resist a bit.

“Are you okay ?” I pant, pushing deeper languorously.

“Yeah…” she winces. “Is it okay for you ?” she worries again.

I moan at the feeling of her pussy fluttering around me and put my head on the crook of her neck. I would like to reassure her, tell her she doesn’t need to worry but I’m lost in the feeling of her, in the intimacy of this moment ; my own body begging me to chase the pleasure I crave. So I just pant a strangled “yeah” on her skin, and I feel her walls clench when I moan. Not sure my voice is making her react like that, I groan in pleasure loudly and her legs wrap around me, keeping me deep inside her. She whimpers… I can feel it. I can literally perceive her body accepting me, her pussy getting wetter and wetter, allowing me to go deeper, her walls opening to welcome me. For a moment, a new fire starts in me, possessiveness. I conquered her and now she’s mine, nobody can touch her���

           I start thrusting gently and she relaxes, holding me tight, a hand on my hair, trembling, kissing my temple like she was the one taking care of me.

“You feel so good” I whisper in her ear, thrusting deeper, and my voice makes her hold me tighter.

I am already close I know it, and I try to hold on, one of my hand wondering on her sweaty skin, taking her right breast like I could cling to it. My hand goes down and finds her clit, gently rubbing it. Her head goes back and her eyes roll, her stomach shake and she tries to tell me something, her lips moving, but no sound comes out.

“Tell me” I pant, winded by the beauty of her, and by the closeness of my own orgasm.

But she can’t answer. She comes again, clenching me so hard I come forcefully without any control. Her legs are crushing me, and her hand is clinging on my short hair.

           I feel empty and blissed, lazily thrusting inside of her, getting softer.

“Dean please” she wails.

I understand she needs me to withdraw, because she too sensitive now. So I do, and take the condom off, stretching my arm to throw it in the kitchen trashcan.

“Are you okay ?” I ask her, getting on my elbows to look at her.

“Yeah…” she smiles. “Just sore. I didn’t know…”

As she stops I kiss her lips and beg her :

“Talk to me, don’t be shy with me. I need you be open…”

“I didn’t know I could come the first time” she says avoiding my face.

I smile, I can’t help it, I wasn’t sure either, considering she was anxious and it hurt a bit in the beginning. I am proud and grateful.

           I get on my knees and notice a bit of blood on the sheets, so I get up to clean her with a wet towel. Her shyness is back, because her arousal is coming down, and she tries to close her legs.

“Don’t” I say. “You are beautiful. Don’t hide from me”.

“Can I…” she hesitates but dares after a deep breath. “Can I look at you ?”

Wow she makes me nervous now. I lay on my back and let her roam her fingers on my skin, kissing here and there, scratching me lightly. Then she looks at my cock and I feel myself burning red, I can see she wants to touch it, but she stays still. Nobody ever looked at me like this, so naively, so tenderly.

           She finally smiles and lies against me, drawing invisible patterns on my chest. She kisses my cheek.

“You really know what you are doing, Dean” she says and I just smile at her. “I want to learn. I want to learn how your body works. Would you teach me ?”

I nod.

She can have all of me.

Feedback is was keeps me writing :)

@mirandaaustin93 @tftumblin

[thebestworstidea]

Sleeping on the Main Remus Song over here.

The lyrics are very heavy and in places inappropriate- but from the frantic beat to the rambling lyrics it is VERY Remus

'I'm so sorry, please forgive me Who do I pray to to straighten out this problem? (problem) Straighten out this problem (problem), straighten out my mind (Mind) Straighten out ...this crooked tongue...(x3) My mind has wandered, from the straight and narrow My mind has wandered from the flock you see My mind has wandered, the man just said so My mind has wandered I heard it on TV And the flock has wandered away from me.

All around the world now Like a big bright cherry cloud Traveling from home to home TV sets and telephones Here it comes just like a storm Bathe in it and be reborn Time to let the world know Welcome madness, ...say hello...(x3)

Like a wave we cannot see Washing over you and me Hiding here and hiding there Madness hiding everywhere Such a curiosity Here it comes to set us free Plenty left for you and me Say hello insanity

I am the virus, are you the cure? I am morally(morally), I'm morally impure(Impure) I am a disease and I am unclean I am not part of God's well oiled machine Christian nation(Nation), assimilate me(me) Take me in your arms and set me free I am part of a degenerate elite(elite) Dragging our society into the street -yeah- Into the abyss and to the sewer don't you see The man just told me, he told me on TV

Do you think you're better than me Do you want to kill me or befriend me

And the alcoholic bastard  waved his finger at me And His voice was filled with evangelical glee Sipping down his gin & tonics While preaching about the evils of narcotics And the evils of sex, (sex) and the wages of sin (Sin) While he mentally fondles his next of kin and

My mind has wandered from the flock you see And the flock has wandered away from me And he waved his hypnotizing finger at me

Let's imitate reality (Insanity) Let's strive for mediocrity (Insanity) Let's make believe we're all the same (Now that's for me) Let's sanitize our little brains (Insanity)

I'd love to take you home with me and tuck you into bed I'd love to see what makes you tick inside your pretty head I'd love to hear you laugh tonight, I'd love to hear you weep I'd love to listen to you while you're screaming in your sleep.

Christian sons, Christian daughters Lead me along like a lamb to the slaughter Purify my brain and hose down my soul White perfection, perfection is my goal

Do you think you're better than me Do you want to kill me, or befriend me

Christian nation(nation), make us alright Put us through the filter and make us pure and white 'cause' My mind has wandered away from me And the flock has wandered, away from me

Let's talk of family values while we sit and watch the slaughter Hypothetical abortions on imaginary daughters The white folks think they're at the top, ask any proud white male A million years of evolution, we get Danny Quayle

All around the world now Like a big bright cherry cloud Traveling from home to home TV sets and telephones Here it comes just like a storm Bathe in it and be reborn Time to let the world know Welcome madness, ...say hello...(x3)

I'd love to take you home with me, I'd love to tuck you in I wish I could protect you from the wages of our sin I'd love to hear you scream tonight, I'd love to hear you cry Protect you from the madness that is raining from the sky

Let's imitate reality (Insanity) Let's strive for mediocrity (Insanity) Let's make believe we're all the same (Now that's for me) Let's sanitize our little brains (Insanity)

I'd love to take you home with me and tuck you into bed I'd love to see what makes you tick inside your pretty head I wish that I could keep you in a precious Chinese box On Sundays I would pray for you so it would never stop I'd love to hear you laugh tonight, I'd love to hear you weep I'd love to listen to you while you're screaming in your sleep I'd love to soothe you with my voice and take your hand in mine I'd love to take you past the stars and out of reach of time I'd love to see inside your mind, to tear it all apart To cut you open with knife and find your sacred heart I'd love to take your satin dolls and tear them all to shreds I'd love to mess your pretty hair, I'd love to see you dead.'

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette and the Lost Temple CH3

Finally finished typing this up. Would have gone faster if my cat didn’t sleep on me for two hours and then crawl over me the whole time I was typing it. Things are about to change next chapter ;) Get your bodies ready

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

“Is this really all you’re going to do on this vacation?” Plagg’s voice in her ear startled her into dropping her shovel as he peeked out of one of her pigtails. “You’re just digging in the dirt all day.”

“I’m spending time with my grandmother,” she hissed, casting a nervous glance across the garden to where Grandma Cheng was clipping damaged leaves from her pepper plants. “And we’re not just ‘digging’ it’s called gardening.”

“It’s boring! When are we gonna do something fun?” Plagg whined.

“You told me yesterday to relax, and I happen to find gardening very relaxing,” she said matter-of-factly, retrieving her phone when it dinged in her bag. “Ah, here’s something that should cheer you up. Grandma, I’m gonna take a break and go explore town a little.”

“Alright. We can pick back up this evening when it cools off again,” Grandma Cheng said, waving her on as Marinette removed her gloves.

“Where are we going?” Plagg asked as she cleaned up, and a small smile curled on her lips.

“You’ll see,” she winked. “Mama, I’m gonna go walk around town and mail some post cards to my friends.”

“Okay, sweetie. Lunch should be ready when you get back,” Sabine said as she trotted for the door.

“Is this field trip going to actually be fun, or are you just saying that so I’ll come along?” Plagg poked his head out as they biked up the dirt road.

“As if you have a choice,” Marinette laughed. “I think you’ll find it pretty enjoyable.”

The post-office was only a few minutes away, and she leaned the bike against the side of the building before heading inside. She passed the man at the counter a card that Master Fu had written for her, and he disappeared into the back, returning a few moments later with a box. Marinette thanked him awkwardly before shuffling back outside. Stuffing the box inside her basket, she rode a short ways up the road to a secluded bench along the street to open her gift. Plagg poked his head out the moment she broke the tape, sniffing excitedly.

“Could it be? My precious Camembert!” He flitted from her hair into the box as she retrieved a folded letter taped inside.

Dear Bugaboo- She rolled her eyes.

Here is a portion of Plagg’s Camembert stash. To prevent him from greedily eating his entire allowance for the week in one sitting, I’ve arranged for packages to be delivered each day of your trip. I hope you have a purrfect vacation, and I eagerly await your return to Paris.

With Love,

Your dearest Chat Noir

P.S. Don’t go falling for anyone! I am your one and only soulmate.

“That cat is so full of himself,” she sighed, flipping the letter over. “Nice stationary though, and he has surprisingly excellent penmanship. I wonder how he can afford so much Camembert.”

“His family is super rich,” Plagg said around a mouthful. “I really do have it made.”

“Hey, no personal details!” She covered her ears with a scowl.

“Lots of people are super rich, it doesn’t prove anything,” Plagg waved it away. “Personal details would be telling that his phone is full of pictures of Ladybug.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” She sighed, leaning against her fist. “That cat is so obsessed.”

“It’s hardly different from your wall of photos of that model boy,” Plagg said pointedly with a belch, patting his swollen belly.

“Okay, but that’s-” she started, but when Plagg cocked a brow, she deflated. “Touché.”

“You’re both lovesick, and personally, I find it revolting,” he stuck out his tongue, and Marinette suppressed a giggle.

“C’mon, let’s ride around and see the sights a little,” Marinette prodded him with her finger.

“Eh, you’ve seen one tree and rustic building, you’ve seen them all. I’m gonna take a nap in your bag,” Plagg squirmed away and phased through the box down into her purse, and Marinette rolled her eyes before standing up and loading her bike.

The countryside really was beautiful, but it did make her a little homesick. She hoped that everything was going okay in Paris…

***

“Tikki, can I ask you something?”

Adrien leaned against his fist glumly, swiveling side to side in his chair as he turned a Chinese notecard over in one hand. The small kwami floated over from the bed where she was reading and came to rest next to his stack of cards with a prompting smile.

“Do I have any chance with Ladybug?” He asked, and Tikki averted her gaze. “I keep hoping that she’ll fall for me, but it seems like she’s just getting more and more fed up with me lately.”

“Well, you do tend to flirt during important battles,” Tikki said pointedly.

“I know, but if I don’t flirt during the fight then I don’t get another chance. She always rushes off as soon as the battle is finished. We barely have time to talk,” he said leaning back in his chair with a pout. “Does she ever talk about me?”

“Well,” Tikki rubbed the back of her head, and Adrien deflated. “Ladybug takes her job very seriously, and I think she feels like you don’t take it seriously when you crack jokes and flirt all the time. If you want to win her over then just show her that you’re serious and focus on being her partner, not her boyfriend.”

“It’s not that I don’t take our job seriously, I just…she makes me a little crazy. She’s so smart and incredible, and I just want her to look at me,” he sighed.

“You really do love her,” Tikki remarked, and Adrien’s cheeks flushed.

“She’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a small smile.

“Just be patient and don’t push. Show her that you can be soft and caring too, and don’t blame her if she doesn’t reciprocate,” Tikki advised. “Doing so is only going to push her away from you.”

“You’re right, Tikki,” Adrien said, shifting his gaze to his lap. “I guess I’m just not good at this stuff.”

“You’re young and learning. Just think of it this way, there are probably people in your life looking at you the way you look at her who feel the same way you do right now,” Tikki said. “The boy Ladybug loves doesn’t see her civilian self either, but she can’t help her feelings any more than you can.”

“What kind of boy could be so blind? How could anyone ignore the most amazing girl in the world?” Adrien scoffed in annoyance, and Tikki averted her gaze.

“Just lay off the heavy flirting during akuma battles, and be patient. I’m sure she will be far less annoyed with you,” Tikki said before hovering back over to her book.

She’d been alive since the creation of the universe, but truthfully, it took every ounce of her will power not to bury her face and scream. Hopefully Marinette’s journey would speed up their fight with Hawkmoth, so they could hurry up and reveal themselves. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

***

Marinette’s vacation was going swimmingly.

She and her grandmother were getting along, the scenery was giving her all kinds of inspiration for new designs, and for the first time in a long time, she was able to relax. Every morning she woke up and checked the news in Paris to ensure that things were going okay and was relieved each time her partners defeated another akuma themselves. Chat continued to include love letters in each box of cheese he sent for Plagg, but she didn’t mind it so much. It gave her a laugh each time and reminded her of home.

But time was running out, and she still had Master Fu’s request to fulfill. With only a couple days left on her trip, she knew that she would have to make the journey soon.

“Plagg?” She prodded him awake one evening after her shower.

“What?” The black cat moaned groggily.

“We need to come up with a plan to find Fu’s place soon,” she whispered, and Plagg sat up with a yawn.

“Oh yeah, that,” he said, stretching his limbs. “I almost forgot.”

“I’ve relaxed enough, we should go tomorrow,” she insisted, and to her surprise, Plagg didn’t argue.

“We’ll go after breakfast. Tell your family you’re going on a nature walk through that trail your aunt mentioned to get some inspiration for your designs. I’ll take you to the place,” he said with a seriousness she’d never seen from him before, but just as quickly as it had come, it faded. “Got any Camembert left?”

“Not until tomorrow,” Marinette rolled her eyes as a knock sounded on the door. “Come in!”

Plagg darted under the pillows as Grandma Cheng poked her head in.

“I brought you some tea to relax you before bed,” she explained, setting the tray on the old vanity and preparing a cup. “Have you been enjoying your stay?”

“I have,” Marinette said, accepting the cup and taking a sip.

“I know it’s not as exciting as the city, but I’ve loved spending time with you,” she set the pot down and picked up an intricately carved brush. “May I?”

Marinette nodded, turning her back as her grandmother ran the brush through her wet hair, gently combing through tangles.

“Your mother used to love having her hair brushed when she was little. Every night she would come sit in my lap, and I’d brush her hair until she fell asleep,” she said with a small smile. “I see a lot of her in you, and not just in your pretty face.”

“Maman used to brush my hair too. She’d tell me stories about visiting her grandparents in China,” Marinette said, closing her eyes. “Sometimes I wish I could be closer to my Chinese heritage.”

“You are still young, my dear, it is never too late to learn,” Marinette smiled at that, breathing deeply as her grandmother’s hands worked through her hair. She felt like a little girl again, listening to stories before bed.

The next day, Marinette packed a bag in preparation for her journey, silently hoping that no one questioned her too much.

“Marinette.” She jumped at the sound of her own name, spinning around to find her grandmother standing in the doorway. “I’ve been saving something for you for quite some time.”

Marinette tilted her head to the side as her grandmother laid a dark pink cheongsam on the bed.

“It was your mother’s when she was your age. Your great-grandmother sent it as a gift for her birthday. Why don’t you try it on?”

Marinette’s heart lurched, a warm smile curling on her lips as her grandmother helped her into it. She paced over to the mirror and turned side to side to see every angle. It was beautiful, and she felt a sense of pride wearing it.

“Fits like a glove,” her grandmother said proudly. “Normally we only wear them on special occasions, but you should wear it today.”

“Are you sure? I was planning to go on that nature walk Aunt Jie told me about,” Marinette ran her hands along one of her pigtails. “I’m such a klutz, I would hate to ruin it.”

“I’m sure you will be fine. I’ll pack you a lunch in case you get hungry along the way. You’ve got a long road ahead of you,” Grandma Cheng cupped her cheek before retreating from the room.

Marinette turned back to the mirror with a smile before pulling down her hair and tying it up into buns. When she emerged with her backpack, Grandma Cheng was wrapping a small lunch box for her.

“The dress looks so good on you, Marinette,” Aunt Jie remarked. “You really do resemble Sabine.”

“Thanks,” Marinette’s cheeks flushed.

“Try not to get lost,” her mother pulled her in for a hug.

“Don’t worry. I have my phone,” Marinette patted her purse.

“Have fun, sweetie!”

Marinette set out up the road, and after she’d put a considerable distance between them and the house, she dug out her instructions. Plagg floated out lazily as she read over them with pursed lips.

“What do you need these for? I know where we’re going,” he said, sticking his head through the paper.

“You said it had been a while since you’ve been there. Things may have changed,” she said pointedly, and Plagg pressed a paw to his chest.

“You don’t trust me!” He gasped accusingly. “After I’ve put my neck on the line for you, and this is the thanks I get? I am speechless.”

“No, no, it’s not that I just-” Plagg turned away stubbornly, and she sighed, tucking the note away and smiling. “Okay, Plagg. I trust you. Lead the way.”

“This way, if you don’t mind,” he instructed pointing in the direction of the woods. “Or was it that way…”

Plagg led her on a long, winding journey filled with lots of wrong turns and dead-ends. After an hour, she was beginning to suspect that he’d forgotten the way after all until his expression grew solemn.

“We’re getting close,” he said with a tone she’d never heard from him.

“We’ve been wandering around in the woods for a long time, and there hasn’t been anything but trees,” she said with a hint of skepticism.

“That’s because the place we are going is hidden by magic. Only those with a Miraculous can get in,” Plagg said, stopping short and causing Marinette to nearly bump into him. “We’re here.”

Marinette surveyed the overhanging trees with a creased brow as Plagg led the way forward, and as they traveled deeper down the grove, the scenery began to shift and change before her eyes, the ring on her finger glowing green.

“Welcome to the temple of the Order of the Guardians,” Plagg said, holding his arms out to encompass the remaining archway and stone slab. “What’s left of it anyway.”

“So, this is the temple that got destroyed because of Master Fu’s mistake?” Marinette’s eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, he really messed up,” Plagg said, placing his arms behind his head and crossing one leg over the other. “I’m starving after all that walking; did you bring any cheese?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and pulled her purse over her head, setting it down on a nearby stump.

“In there. I’m gonna look around a little, okay?” She said, glancing over her shoulder as Plagg dug out a wedge of Camembert.

“Sure thing,” he waved her on, watching as she cautiously crept forward, and in a flash of light, she disappeared the moment she stepped through the arch.

“Good luck, Marinette.”

[goalkepa]

2k followers appreciation post💙

I did the appreciation post when I reached 1k probably a year ago. And I feel like I need to write this again, not only because I keep this as part of the memories but also because I regard it as a chance to show my gratefulness to every single one of you who has become my friends or just simply support me, unconditionally. This post will be pretty long I guess. You can just scroll through as long as you feel annoyed. But if you have time, especially those who I will mention later, I hope you can read it word by word, because you guys really take a big part in my life. Without further ado, let’s get started!

I’d love to mention some *old* friends first:

@thomas-partey :

Probably the one that has been there for me from the beginning of this journey? I always enjoy the time when we have talks, Yerika, about Atleti, about life. You are such a sweet and brave person, who will put all your efforts to reach the goals you set for yourself. That’s what I admire A LOT. Although we didn’t talk that much like we used to, because you’re not online pretty often anymore, just want you to know that I’m still here for you, always. And I feel like I’ll write you a message very soon🙈Thank you for always backing me up. Much love to you.💙

@coolsaul :

Awww Julie my superb French bean out there😍 I still remember when I traveled to Paris, I messaged you about some stupid questions like I was so worried that if I couldn’t find the location of Boutique FFF or if I went there and the store was not open etc. But you were so nice and patient to me at that time, and even now you will still answer ALL the things about Les Bleus and even share your amazing memories (like meeting all those French idiots) with me, which makes me feel so so honored and happy. Oh and not to mention how awesome you are as an Atleti’s fan and how ambitious you are as a beautiful lady. Wish everything goes well there in UK. Much love to you💙

And now here comes some *new blood*. I think I’ve talked to more people after World Cup compared to the time before this tournament. The reason? I don’t know. For me, this needs a lot of courage and I’m extremely glad that I sent the simple “hi” message to some of my mutuals (or few of you sent me first), who are all so freaking nice to me. I wrote the order randomly. In case I forgot to mention some of you, I’m truly sorry. It only means that I’m a dumbass and I honestly don’t know how to put my feelings into words. Anyway, I thank all of you a lot. Here we go:

@niguezsaul :

Needless to say, the funniest Colchoneros I could not ask for. When the game is live and you post your live update, it’s really entertaining. Sometimes it could be hilarious, or just so close to the truth. Your love for Atleti is very valuable and precious. Although I believe you’ve experienced the hardness of supporting this color, you will never give up, right? When the next season comes, you’ll definitely witness our spirit by yourself. Trust me, Karo. You won’t regret for being heartbroken for them over and over again. Much love to you💙

@the-place-to-sparkle :

Let me introduce you a sweet, kind, caring and beautiful lady. Her name is Cami. You’d better write it down. Girl, your love for the things you adore is the purest thing on this planet. Not only football, but also the way you dream of living in your life. On this site, there are too much hatred and negative things. But you are never affected by this. You’re always the one who shares positive stuffs, post some good vibes and reblog all those gentle reminders, which are helpful for those who need, including me. What makes you become such a unique person in my heart, is that you never hide the true side of yourself. This is why all of us love you, Cami. We love the real you and you should never change for anyone. Keep on sparkling✨ my lovely bean. Much love to you💙

@diogodxlot :

Okay so please let me say this again, you are so fucking beautiful ngl (Hector should open his eyes honestly😏) I really really love those locksreens you made, all of them. You have a good taste in aesthetic. I hope I can reach 1% of your level😂 And the thing that you said you cannot choose a single player to print on the jersey? That’s the cutest shit ever, Charvi, really. I hope you get yourself a jersey very very soon. Manchester United owes you one. And good luck to the last exam. You’re gonna SMASH IT. Much love to you💙

@lidah-itsme :

The most gorgeous Italian on this planet goes to…. Teresa🥳 You don’t know how much I love the story behind the name “Lidah”. This is not only such a cool thing but also a meaningful way to represent yourself. I love it. Also your love for Liverpool and Trent amazes me every single day. You’re such a nice fan, only focus on your team in a positive way. That’s what we need on this site✊🏻 By the way, I remember you love Eden Hazard, right? Maybe we should talk about how this happens, privately👀 Much love to you 💙

@draxla :

So, Nathália, my Atleti’s and Chelsea’s mutual. Becoming part of the Blues is not in my plan but here I am. And I’m so glad that there is someone who can experience the pain with me🤣 We haven’t talked too much, but I like you and your point of view. Your thoughts are so close to mine most of the times. I feel grateful for that. At here, there are too many different opinions and finding a person who thinks the way we do is such an awesome thing. I believe you can feel it too. Thank you so much for being my friend. Hope our teams still stop disappointing us for the rest of the season🙏🏻😂Much love to you💙

@erikscn :

Let’s first talk about the Gremi thing, joking😜 But this is probably the reason why we started our conversation. So, I guess, thanks to that😂You’re talented in writing. Your work for my boy Paulo is such a beautiful masterpiece. Promise me that you will never stop showing your talent, alright? What I adore you the most, is your personality. Those stories you told me give me clues about which kinds of person you are. And this IS the Greta I LOVE😌 Don’t ever feel that you’re dumb or not good enough. Being who you truly are is the reason why you’re on this post, and he knows it too! Much love to you💙

@holdmyhopeinyourhands :

First of all, thank you for being my coolest mutual askjsanjkn🙈 I honestly never saw anyone shares their deepest thought of players like you do, Mona. Those post you dedicated to specific players are enjoyable to read💞 And your love for PSG and Roma is the most supportive I’ve ever seen. They are lucky to have a fan like you. Never stop doing what you’re doing, including writing the umbrella academy fanfic. You have the rights to decide how to manage your blog and I’ll support you no matter what✊🏻 Much love to you💙

@avsensio :

Who is the funniest person on this site? Lexi. Whose posts always make me choke? Lexi. Who is the master of using memes? Lexi. I’m not going to give more clues about how awesome this girl is🤷🏻‍♀️ I still remember our first talk. It was an unforgettable night for me. After time goes by, we found out so many mutual points, like we are both March baby, our love for France NT and we both adore Lauv’s music etc… the things we share really cannot describe by words🥰 And remember you told me to not stop what I’m doing, to not affected by others? Your words sill impact me nowadays. And now it’s my turn to tell you, do not fucking change yourself for others. Yea it’s impossible to let everyone like you but you will always have my support. ALWAYS✊🏻Much love to you 💙

@fcsonny :

Nicole💞✨ Can’t believe we met on tumblr when you were at Taiwan. I noticed you because you reblogged my post of the football journal and said you are able to understand the content. My first thought was like “oh shit there are people who can understand what I’m rambling in the journal😱” and then I thought “wait you speak Chinese?!?!?😍” so we talked and this is honestly one of the coolest experience ever, not to mention how nice you are to me. Thank you for that and next time when you visit Taiwan for the fourth time, message me in advance so I can show you around👌🏻 Much love to you💙

@paudybalas :

I’ll never ever forget that you came to my ask box and told me I’m the reason why you decided to create a football blog😭That was definitely one of the warmest compliments ever happened in my life. And you know what? You’re meant to become an awesome football blogger. I may inspire you but you are the only one to make your blog perfect and honestly, I feel like a proud mom🙈Those gifs you made are art. Those personal stories we share with each other will forever be part of the memories in my heart. You inspire me as well, Ellie🥰Thanks a lot. Much love to you 💙

@football-laeli :

Don’t want to sound dramatic but you are absolutely one of the sweetest human beings here🤧 Positive vibes only, always trying to convey some good energy and that’s amazing, Janna. Also, I’m so glad that you decided not to hide your support for you club Ajax anymore💞You changed for your boys, is there anything more powerful than this? I guess none. You’re such a sweet lady, and I wish one day all these good things you give us could all go back to you, because that’s what you deserve😉 Much love to you💙

@disappointment-fc :

So, you are a special person to me. First, you support Real Madrid and you once tried to convince me to love Sergio Ramos😂 This...is honestly quite cool and you are a nice madridista, which surprised me the most najksjnjas🙈 Second, you like Jeremy Lin (right?). Please take care of him🙏🏻Third, you are my kid and I’m your mother. You never go to bed on time, which means I could spend more time talking to you so I’ll try not to ask you to sleep early in the future👀Anyways, you’re one of the few that sent me messages first and have always been nice to me since then, including encouraging me when my team falls down. That’s the kindest gesture I could not ask for more. Thank you, Chloe💞✨Much love to you💙

@theblxefox :

I’ll never stop saying how much I thank you for inviting me join the Chelsea family👀🤧 Without you, my love for Kepa would just remain the original level (now it’s unstoppable😏) I love the way you deal with Chelsea’s disaster, being sarcastic but the love is still strong. Also, on this site, you not only care about football, but also global issues, sometimes even political aspects. You are not afraid of speaking your thoughts. Meanwhile, you stay respectful and let others convey their opinions. We need more people like you, Tommer🙏🏻 You’re that kind of person I dream to become. A kind of person who is beautiful both inside and out. Much love to you 💙

@footballgotmeoncrack :

The only person I already met in real life before having a talk online✨ This is not a coincidence, Angie, I always believe it’s not. The story happened between us is the most unique, ever. I remember you because you were nice to me at the stadium, and you are still nice to me, every second since then. Your love for goalkeepers, like Hugo, Gigi and Iker, is so pure and strong. I could not quite understand why goalies needed to be loved before I also become a fan of a goalkeeper. That’s why I admire you a lot, because you already started to protect the most important and underappreciated role on the pitch✊🏻I’m so glad that you’re able to see your team Spurs this summer. I’ll pray for you to get Hugo’s autograph or even a chance to talk to him🙏🏻You deserve it, my bestie. Also, good luck to your studying in advance. Much love to you 💙

@madtimer :

My beloved Taiwanese mutual here🥳 It’s hard to find a girl who loves football in Taiwan. That’s why I feel grateful to meet one here, not to say how sweet this girl is. Your love for BVB and Milli reminds me of my love for Atelti and Grizi. They are quite the same. Being disappointed but we never give up on them, right Lisa? And all those gifs you made, the way you support your team, is something I want the most from a football fandom (tho I still haven’t download PS because I’m too lazy skajnskj) also you are the one that writes journal related to football, like print some players’ photos and puts some thoughts on it, which makes me so happy because I’m not the only weirdo doing this👀 Anyways, thank you for always being there for me when I need someone to talk in Chinese😜 Much love to you 💙

@hazantowifey :

Potato’s wife, sometimes I really want to punch your face when you said cruel things about football but sadly😂 I can’t, because those are the truths, and you help me accept it. I will never forget that day you commented below my post saying that I’m important to you. Like, I’m shocked because we didn’t really have a lot of conversation but you already regard me as your friend. I still can’t believe it really happened to me😭 You can never make me mad, because you always know how to make my heart go like “aww” by sending me Kepa’s gifs🤦🏻‍♀️ And I HATE you for that. Hope one day we can meet in real life. Maybe go to THE 1975’s concert or a football match, Belgium vs France, so you can wear your Hazard’s jersey and I can wear my Anto’s jersey😜 I’ll look forward to that day to come. Much love to you💙

@leroysanei

My dearest 🐰 , the one that sent me messages first when I need it the most. An important person who always knows how to cheer me up. A person who will send “good morning” to me. A person that truly regards me as a real friend in her life. You take a big part in my heart, 🐰. No one can replace you. Your kindness is the reason why I opened my heart again, to make me believe that there are people I can trust on this site, to make me believe there is someone who will understand my feelings even tho they didn’t know me before🙏🏻 Except for talking about football, I love the time when we share our lives more, oh but maybe also when we are pouring our love for Kepa janskjnskdj🙈wow I really drag you into it I’m 👀 so proud of myself. Your reaction when you said you wanna dance with him in the rain, gosh this is the cutest thought EVER (oops I’m exposing you again 😬). You’re such a clever, independent woman. You’re much more amazing than you expected. Anyways, 🐰, thank you for becoming my best friend in life. Much love to you 💙

For the last one, it will go to my forever soulmate @footballffbarbiex

The one that joined me from the beginning of this journey. The one that has saved me from depression over and over again. We have been through many hard moments and shits together, which others will hardly understand. There are a lot of times when I only sent you a simple sentence, but you got it all. I don’t really have to explain anything you just know me too well. I don’t know why I’m so lucky to meet you in my life, to have you as a friend, a family. Besides being my soulmate, you’re a blessing to this fandom. First, I love your writing, a lot. You have to admit that you’re so talented at this part. That shhhh seires? Masterpiece. That Kepa’s one shot? Masterpiece. I won’t go on for the smut ones because that will expose myself ajsnjnaksjn😜 Second, you have a great interaction with your readers. You listen to their opinions, talk to them and always being so nice. We should all be grateful for those beautiful works you’ve provided to us. Third, you always care about our feelings and always being so respectful to everyone. You deserve love and love only, Amy💞 Words will never be enough to describe my thankfulness. But meanwhile I’ll never stop saying this, thank you, for being one of the most important people in my life. I’ll love you forever and ever💙💙💙

At last, thank you all those who came to my blog and left some sweet, kind messages. Thank you all for liking my stuffs, giving me encouragements or sharing your thoughts with me. It literally means a lot to me🙏🏻

It’s such a pleasure to be on here and I sincerely hope I can bring more joy and positivity to all of you in the future 💙

Love you guys so much,

Steffi

[archivepolarisornah]

the wonders of literature | Henrik & James

There were certain things James didn’t like doing, and one of them was disturbing anyone reading a book. Yet the cover intrigued him and he wondered what it was about. So fighting against his natured he called out to the unfamiliar guy and smiled. “Sorry to interrupt your reading, but I was wondering what the book was about, I’m an avid reader myself.”

Henrik looked up and smiled in return while giving a short wave “Hey, it’s no problem at all. I’m reading about cardiovascular disease. One of my new clients at the gym has it but he would like to keep fit, so I’m reading up on it to see what type of exercise would be best suited to him” he explained and closed the book over “It’s nothing terribly exciting but it is interesting”

“Sounds pretty Chinese to me, does it have something to do with a muscle illness?” He noticed the word Cardio in it so perhaps that was what it was about.”Seems like lots of work, I didn’t know you gave personal training, are you expensive. I might need some advice on my running and well-.” James paused. “Some advice including another hobby of mine.”

“If I’m going to be his personal trainer, i’d like to make sure his health is kept intact.” he smiled. He couldn’t have the thought of one of his clients getting sick on his watch “I could but he’d have to come by the gym and request the training session” he laughed.

“Thanks, I like to think I can too but it seems Phil isn’t so convinced”

“Do you take on many clients for personal training?” He thought Henrik was more training himself than others, it interested him in a way. And it was quite kind of him to look after the health of others. “Mission impossible then.” James laughed. Yeah, no he couldn’t convince Peter to “waste his precious time”.

“Well, in the end, it’s your decision what you do with your life. Not Phils.”

“Yeah I’ve got a good few that I do personal training with and then I’ll slot in my gym times in the spare time I have between other things I’ve got going on” he shrugged softly “Pretty much. You can’t help someone if they don’t want to be helped, isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“Phil looked after me my whole life when my parents were off with their careers and before I knew my uncle. I owe him”

“I might be interested to combine the gym for my box training. Any chance that’s an option?” It wasn’t like James planned to go professional with his boxing, he had Neverland, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t want to put in any effort. “You are right, though there are moments when I just want to give up and regret taking Peter in. I never fully give up though, the kid is important to me, but it’s a pity how goalless that guy seems. He doesn’t want to grow up, he lacks motivation. I wish I could guide him into a path he’s willing to fight for.”

James pondered for a moment. “Well the orphanage took care of me my first 18 years of my life, yet I don’t feel like I owe them anything.” His parents had neglected him, though little blame could be placed on his father. After all he didn’t even know James was alive.

“People normally shouldn’t do things in order to expect something in return. It’s a mistake I made with Peter before. He doesn’t owe me, but I’d appreciate it if he were to help me.”