#anything sent in today will be answered although depending on how many I get it might take a few days to get to all of them!

[burning-academia-if]

I was going to reblog a list of prompts for the blog's 1 year anniversary, but all the ones in my draft are super long lists lol

So how about you can send in one word + a character/RO/poly and I'll write something based around it for today!

[ijustwant2write]

A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic) (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @elenawinchstr)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @myficplace @yelenas-lova @lavxnder @s-unflowxr 

Summary: Benedict and Eloise both anticipate Lady (Y/N)’s social event, as does their mother, causing tensions to rise and panic to ensue. Benedict doesn’t want his mother ruining what he may have with (Y/N), asking Eloise for her help, who gladly plays the role of a good sister.

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Anthony Bridgerton and Violet Bridgerton

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

                                   *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Benedict hastily moved around the house, avoiding his mama at all costs. She called out his name repeatedly, growing frustrated at his childish manner. He was supposed to discuss a plan with her about how he should prepare to court Lady (Y/N), but he knew better; his mama knew nothing of (Y/N) (he admitted, he still had much to learn about her too), and he didn’t want his chance to slip away. Although he was confident at her house when he called upon her, there was a sickening doubt looming in his mind that if he did anything wrong, another suitor could easily take his place.

“You have no where else to hide brother.” Anthony smirked, his eyes skimming over the top of his newspaper.

Benedict sighed, accepting defeat. She would find him in a matter of minutes, especially since Anthony’s office was the last place she would look. 

“Please, just let me stay her for a few moments.” Benedict begged.

Anthony chuckled, putting down the papers as he reclined in his chair.“Oh dear, I see things are turning serious quite quickly.”

“Yes, which wouldn’t be a problem if mama wasn’t making this such a big ordeal.”

“But it is to her.”

Benedict knew this.“I know that, because someone hasn’t found a woman to marry, so it then falls onto my shoulders.”

“I haven’t seen you so anxious before. Sit down, try to relax.”

Benedict took his offer, practically collapsing into the chair on the other side of the desk. Anthony stood, pouring out a drink each and handing one to Benedict. Though not one to drink in the early afternoon, he gladly sipped at it, wishing he would just calm down.

“Besides mama, what is going on in that head of yours?” Anthony asked. 

He genuinely wanted to help. He felt a slight guilt knowing that his mama was more excited about this possible partnership, seeing as he never gave her the satisfaction of even socialising with women. 

“I worry that I may not be enough for (Y/N).” he said.“Of course, I have talked to women, I know the right things to say, but I also know that I will not want to engage in further conversation. Whereas with (Y/N), she intrigues me, so much that even after we danced and talked for hours, I still felt like I hardly spent any time with her. I thought about every word I said, listened intently to everything that poured out of her mouth. There are no other women like her.”

Anthony didn’t speak for a few seconds.“You should write poems alongside your art work.”

Benedict groaned, about to stand when Anthony stopped him.

“I am teasing you brother. Look, it’s extremely obvious that you have fallen for this woman. Putting feelings aside for a moment, she also comes from a well off family with a respectable background, so you’ve done very well in that department. This art exhibition will allow me to also see what Lady (Y/N) and her family are like, as well as keep mama away from you both as much as I can.”

“You would do that for me?”

“You seem shocked. I will pretend not to be offended.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know that you too do not like to be....bothered by mama at these events. No doubt she’ll talk to you about my potential courtship all night.”

The door opened as he finished speaking, Violet popping her head in. Her smile widened when she saw both her sons in the same room, now able to speak with them both about Lady (Y/N). Anthony and Benedict shared a look, knowing they would be there for some time.

Elsewhere in the house, Eloise was suffering through a conversation with Hyacinth. As Daphne had to endure, Hyacinth was questioning her older sister, wanting to know everything there was to know about the balls they attended. She wanted to make sure she had all the knowledge she needed when it was her turn to debut. They never spoke of these things in front of her or Gregory and she wanted all the answers. However, Eloise was not revealing anything, and making it seems that everything to do with debuting was awful.

“Go away and pester somebody else.” Eloise huffed as she descended the stairs away from her sister.

“Why are you always so mean to me? I’m just asking questions!” Hyacinth protested.

Eloise felt guilty, especially since Hyacinth was still young and didn’t understand many things about the world yet.“I’m sorry, but I’m not the best person to ask these questions.”

“Why don’t you want to get married?”

“If I explain, you won’t understand.”

“Yes I will!”

“You won’t Hyacinth.”

“You’re so mean!”

The young girl stomped off, having a tantrum to herself. Eloise did feel bad for being so snappy with her sister, but she really didn’t like talking about these things, doing all she could to avoid it where possible. It just made her feel miserable. And who wants to dote on a topic that eliminates all happiness from them?

However, Eloise did find that she was excited about the art exhibition. She was curious as to how (Y/N) and her brother’s encounter would go. For a moment, she felt like her mama. It sent shudders down her spine. It was nice to have the pressure and attention off of her, and to see her brothers in the spotlight. She knew too many friends with brothers who had it easier than the women of the family. Of course they had certain expectations, but Eloise did not see any men parading around in uncomfortable, tight dresses, with over the top embellishments and feathers. 

The remaining days leading up to the art exhibition were filled with dress and suit fittings, lessons on the (Y/L/N) family, and making sure everyone knew how important this day could be. Benedict grew more and more nervous as it approached, his mama making him realise that this could be a turning point in his life. Before this was all about him being excited to see (Y/N), to be in her company again, now it was as if he was proposing to her.

Eloise stepped out into the garden, welcoming the warmth that was still lingering at this time of night. She couldn’t sleep, knowing what was on her mind, but not wanting to admit it. She wasn’t surprised to see Benedict already on the swing set, secretly smoking as they had both done before. A small smile appeared on her face as she approached him, making sure to create some sort of noise as to not startle him.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one being kept awake.” she said as she sat down.

“I haven’t even tried to sleep yet.” Benedict said before inhaling through his cigarette again.

“Is someone nervous?” she wasn’t teasing him, she was concerned.

“Yes.” he surprisingly said.“I’m nervous because mother has made me believe everything is depending on this next meeting. Yet she forgets how long Daphne took to decide who she was marrying.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because (Y/N) likes you.” 

Benedict chuckled."Ah, I forgot you were the expert on such topics."

"I may not know a lot about...feelings and love, but I am not a fool. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you first saw her. (Y/N) was practically speechless too. But not like the other women who fawn over the Bridgerton name, she actually liked you for your face, for some reason. I don't know, it just seemed that there was something natural between you."

"Eloise Bridgerton, what a doting thing to say."

"I am trying to be nice to you brother."

"I know. And I appreciate it, but...I feel at ease with (Y/N), and I don't like the thought of mother's eyes burning into the back of my head. Anthony has said that he will do what he can to help, but I fear that mother will not be totally distracted by him. She’ll know his sudden interest will be fake.”

Eloise had an idea, and even if she didn’t want to go through with it, she knew it would help Benedict.“I will regret saying this, but I shall help too. I will make sure mama is paying attention to me, I’ll let her drag me around and indulge in hideously, dull conversations.”

Benedict had been shocked for the second time that day. Two of his siblings, both detesting the thought of marriage, had offered to suffer through this social event in order to give him time with (Y/N).

“What has happened to you two today?” Benedict asked.

“We are merely being charitable. Hopefully you return the favour in future. God knows I’ll be in need of saving soon.”

(Y/N) was all a flutter on the morning of the exhibition. Her mother had bought a new dress just for this, wanting to impress the Bridgerton family, prepping their halls and rooms for the exhibition for the last week. (Y/N)’s father was proud of what he had created, and that his daughter may be on her way to marrying a family who were held highly in their society. (Y/N) couldn’t focus at all, relieved that her maids were the ones in charge of getting her dressed and ready for the day; if left to her own devices, she surely would have put her dress on backwards. 

Guests streamed in, but (Y/N) was only on the lookout for one person. She remained polite, trying to stay in the moment as more and more people arrived. However, she still kept an eye out for Benedict, also staying on her toes. She had many things in mind to say to him, and she wanted to keep them in her mind. There was no way she was going to humiliate herself. 

Her heart started beating a thousand times faster when she saw Benedict enter the main hall, the one holding the biggest and most expensive pieces of art. She smiled, and somehow it grew even bigger when he made eye contact with him. His smile was so sweet, it made you fall for his charms even more. Benedict felt his stomach twist in anticipation, desperate to have just a few moments with (Y/N). Alas, that did not come when his mama latched onto his arm, steering him in (Y/N)’s direction. Although he wanted to speak with her, he found it all rather forceful, especially when (Y/N)’s parents suddenly appeared behind her.

Formal introductions were made, each set of parents making small talk about the last time they were in each others company. (Y/N) and Benedict were silent, nodding along with what was being said as they sneaked glances at each other. The conversation was dragging for them, they knew their parents wanted to figure out if this could be a potential arrangement. It didn’t seem that they were going to stop talking at any point, neither child wanting to be rude, until Eloise intruded.

“Pardon me,” she started, sending a subtle smile to Benedict,“mama, I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Ah, another Bridgerton. The next daughter to find a suitor, I presume?” (Y/N)’s mother beamed.

Eloise hid the urge to frown. Luckily her mother stepped in.“Yes, this is Eloise. I’m sorry darling, I did not mean to leave you stranded.”

“Yes, well, shall we?” Eloise tugged at her mother’s arm.

“Alright dear. It was lovely to see you both again.” 

As Violet eagerly followed Eloise, (Y/N)’s parents also dispersed. Benedict and (Y/N) were now finally together, just as they had wished; so why did it suddenly feel awkward?

“Well, that seemed to easy.” Benedict cleared his throat.

“What was?” (Y/N) asked.

“Getting rid of them.” he grinned, holding out his arm.

(Y/N) smiled back, happy to hold onto him.“I was trying to come up with something to say that would not be rude, but would also mean we could leave. I hope that it wasn’t obvious I wanted to leave.”

“Even if it was, I doubt they would care too much. We both know they are over excited.”

“Oh how right you are. I’m assuming your mother has been acting the same as mine this whole week?”

“Overbearing? Overthinking? Over-”

(Y/N) giggled.“Yes, yes, I do not wish to dote on the memory. I am happy that you are here though Benedict.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

The pair’s arms stayed linked as (Y/N) guided Benedict around the art work. Sometimes they joined other conversations, though liked to keep to themselves. It was easy to bond over artwork, especially since it was a passion both of them had. There were no pauses or silences after a few minutes of talking, conversation flowed naturally between them. Men and women also searching for suitors were jealous; a Bridgerton boy had been swept up all too quickly and (Y/N) had been a popular choice amongst the men. However, people could not deny they made a fitting pair.

"Come, let me show you something." (Y/N) muttered to Benedict, easily slipping away from the crowds and leaving the room.

"We really shouldn't be alone (Y/N)." Benedict said, even though this was all he had been wanting.

(Y/N) had a cheeky smile on her face as she tugged on his arm, her steps gradually getting quicker. Benedict didn't even take in her elaborate house, only looking at her beautiful face every time she glanced up at him. They stopped before two grand doors, which (Y/N) cautiously opened, slipping inside with Benedict close behind her.

In the middle of the room was a huge painting covered by a fine piece of cloth. Benedict was confused why (Y/N) brought him to this, until she let go of his hand (him instantly missing the feeling), and theatrically pulled the piece of fabric down. Benedict's jaw dropped as the piece was revealed. He had never seen a painting like it.

It was a large, landscape painting of a ballroom. It captured dancing pairs in the middle of some sort of waltz, musicians huddled in the corner whilst the other guests stood watching; and it was so intricate, Benedict guessed it must have taken the artist months to complete it. All the colours, the detail, it almost looked real.

"This is amazing." he breathed out.

(Y/N) was happy when she saw Benedict's shock."Isn't it? It's supposed to be revealed later, but I wanted to see your expression properly."

"Who painted it?"

"I don't know. Father said he is going to inform everyone later, but it is a new artist. I just think they're work is dazzling to look at. I become mesmerised."

Benedict's focus changed back to (Y/N)."Yes, that does tend to happen."

She didn't notice that he was referring to her, nodding along in agreement. Her smile faltered slightly, which Benedict was able to see immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he neared her, hating the gap that was created

(Y/N) covered her slip up, as her mother had told her."I'm sorry, it's really nothing..." she started, but found herself relaxed, and wanting to tell Benedict all her problems."It's only that...I used to paint frequently, well, I sketched more, though I enjoyed both. Like all girls, my mother told me to stop that and focus on becoming the most desired lady in society. I shouldn't have even told you about that when we first met."

"That's what made me desire you (Y/N)."

She blushed, realising how intense his gaze was."Oh, Lord Bridgerton-"

"What's with all the formalities all of a sudden?"

"I-I don't know. I don't want to ruin anything and it's only our second meeting. Third if you count when you called upon me."

"And I called upon you for a very good reason."

"I was wishing that everyone else would leave, so I could spend more time with you."

Benedict loved hearing her say that."As did I."

Subconsciously they had moved closer, though they both knew what they were doing. Benedict reached down to tenderly hold her hands, causing her heart to beat erratically. (Y/N) had no idea what to do, she only had experience from the books she read. It seemed simple enough to kiss someone, but also the hardest thing in the world. How much pressure should she apply? How long should they kiss for? Where would she put her hands? Where would he put his hands? She didn't have anytime to think as he was already leaning in towards her.

Eloise and Anthony were finding it extremely hard to keep the fake smiles plastered on their faces. Benedict was really in for it once this was all over. Their mama had kept a tight grip on them both, because as soon as they saw their chance to flee, they would. Both had to suffer through extremely long, boring and repetitive conversations, listening to parents boast about their children's achievements. Everyone knew how this worked, yet they all had to pretend to be happy about it.

"Where is Benedict? He's been away for a long time." their mama pondered as they took a break for refreshments.

"He's probably wooing Lady (Y/N), just as you wanted." Eloise slurped on her drink.

"Do not fret mother, he knows what he's doing. He truly likes her and will be doing all he can to...well, yes, woo her." Anthony said.

"I suppose you are right. It feels strange that one of my children are making an effort for once."

Eloise huffed."Oh, do not chastise us mama. We've been doing this all afternoon, haven't we?"

Violet squinted her eyes at them, suspicious that they were up to something. She was about to question it, but stopped herself. They were doing what she always wanted, finding someone to spend their future with. She wouldn't jeopardise that. Lucky for them, a servant announced that Lord (Y/L/N) requested for everyone's presence inside. The guests were intrigued, following orders and grabbing full glasses of whatever quenched their thirst. Eloise and Anthony had got away with their plan for now, they just hoped Benedict and (Y/N) had had enough time together. 

[namjoonchronicles]

impression | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 5.5k

↳ summary many forgot that when you marry someone, you marry their family too, at least that’s how Asian family is like

↳ warning that side of adulthood, lockdown because of pandemic, self-worth, over-sensitivity, pisces dude, married life conflicts

↳ song ariana grande ‘pov’ 

Just this morning you woke him up with ‘Daechwita’ blasting on his ear drums, dancing and prancing around the home gym in your spandex bra and sweatpants, rapping to every word he wrote, with more swag than ten Yoongis combined. Forehead glistened with sweat, rosy cheeks and more life in you than he ever had. He leaned by the door sill just watching in utter disbelief and renewed admiration to just how much you loved his music. It never gets old. But how the tables have turned, two minutes before midnight.

You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom, him leaning his back on the wall, speaking through the closed door, calling out for you.

“Talk to me. Please… Say something. Anything,” he puts his lips inches away from the door, covering his hand over his mouth to direct the sound towards you, hoping it would get through. Fat chance, but at least he tried.

Must be something in his drink last night for him to hear his own song even when he is sleeping, Yoongi thought. But he didn't drink last night? Yoongi pulled the duvet down his head, contorting his entire face and the blaring boom bass music, rippling through the miniature figure standees of famous baseball players he had lined up on the TV cabinet. The music was so loud, the pictures hung on the walls began rattling at each beat drop. Where is this music coming from??

Two seconds in, and the empty spot next to him spoke volumes. All answers were as clear as day.

Yoongi sat up on the bed, duvets pooled around his waist as he yawns loudly and his bed hair flopping on either side leans towards, some baby strands standing in all directions. He scratches his arms, neck and belly as he comes awake. Face puffy, eyes barely open, and cheeks as circle as they could be. He gathered the duvet to the side and pushed himself off to the edge of the bed while shoving his feet into his indoor slippers. He tried to fetch his phone from the bedside table and saw it vibrating on its own from the loud music.

"Better stop her before the neighbours come complaining…"

He waddles about the room lazily, dragging his feet, his arm reaching for the switch panel before he even arrives to have the curtain open and let the sun in. The automated curtain aligned and folded creases perfectly as it gathered itself to each designated side. The bed, the bed will be made up later after he advises his wife not to deafen the whole neighborhood with his albums and he could finally think.

The teal-colored walls that extended along the hallway of the house, decorated with wedding pictures, family pictures, his signed baseball jerseys, picture of his basketball days (the one he jumps for a slam dunk and especially proud of, you know the one), your graduation picture (with him professionally photoshopped in) and some lovely polaroids of your first unofficial date that he insists was official. More on that later. Yoongi walks pass this memory lane with a stern face, shooting glares ahead, marching in the direction of the music, which seems to be coming from the gym. What he saw was a petite figure, all hyped up, sweaty, holding up a water bottle to your lips like a microphone, mouthing his rap like it was your own. You saw him in the mirror reflection but instead of coiling away, shy, you spat his rap to his face with flaming confidence. Yoongi looks down with a shy smile, eyes turning small and polite, skin blushing pink with second hand embarrassment. His face is hot and your sweaty skin, hair plastered to your neck and forehead, in revealing spandex was not helping. Neither is your swag. He clamped his lips with his teeth while you pulled his arm so he would join you. He protested lazily but didn't resist as hard. He throws his head back, whining dejections but you couldn't care less.

"Are you making your own concert here? Plagiarising my songs?"

You heard him and grinned widely at the mirror. He folded his arms and watched you dance seductively and just as the rap got to the 'my tongue sends boys and girls to China' part, the music stops and he is no longer next to you but by the stereo and turning it off.

"Yoongi! I was working out!" "People are gonna come and complain…" "They know who you are…" "They know my name from you…"

Screaming underneath him, that's what he meant. You rolled your eyes at him. He passed you a face towel with a sheepish smile. Wiping your face with it, you watched Yoongi unplug your phone from the sockets. It reveals several missed calls from your mother in law, Yoongi's mom.

"Mom called…" "Really?"

You moved closer to him to see. Yoongi reads the message she sent you outloud and the colors drained down your face.

"What do I cook? What do I do? What does she usually have for lunch? OMG, I don’t know. Do we even have kimchis left? I hadn't restocked…" "She likes fried dumplings and soy garlic chicken stew… it'll be okay. She said she is coming around noon. It's just a little over 8 am… Go take a shower."

You scurried to the bathroom and did as told. Yoongi made the bed while he waited. He turns the cordless vacuum cleaner on but it beeped soullessly because it wasn't charged. He sighed. You always forget to charge them after using them. He opted for a broom and dustpan instead. Yoongi disappears into his home studio, to take the shampoo he had been using and after-shower lotion for you to use. He twisted the knob, knowing you wouldn't lock them when you shower. Knock on the glass door of the shower and told you to use them. You nodded, passing him a look over your shoulder but he was out as quickly as he entered. That cold, cold steely husband.

You stepped out of the shower wrapped in towels with your hair dripping wet, hurrying to the hairdryer to dry your hair. Yoongi walks in with nothing but a towel around his waist. He passes you a chaste kiss on the shoulder first, then your cheeks before he continues to unravel his briefs and showered as well. The water trickles down his face, neck and shoulders, cascading down his speckless back, over the bum of his ass and wetting his happy trails at the same time. He aggressively rubs water over his face, the tips of his hair appear darker as it gets wet. You dressed up in your oversized hoodie, a pair of jeans and red converse, hair tied up in a bun, grabbing your purse for a quick run to the store. If your mother in law is coming, the least you could do is cook an all korean cuisine, prep nicely on the table so she knows that her son was taken care of nicely. Giving her a lasting good impression was your core priority as of now. And Yoongi would have been more than happy to do the grocery for you but this time, just this once, you want to show him that you are dependable too.

If there is anything you learned from korean cuisine is that food is prepared meticulously like you would, a form of art. Everything is placed neatly on a plate, and wrapped tightly. Taste and looks must be perfect. Everything had a sequence. Tradition and culture shapes the good people of Korea to what it is today. And for Daegu native, Yoongi's deep accent and habits become one of the most significant traits that flags a Daegu representative. You are obsessed with getting it right. Although you mostly don't understand the heavy accents he tends to let slip out once in a while, you were expecting to guess the words as it comes. His accents are one of the things that you loved about him. Daegu dialects are strong, and oozing masculinity. They are often direct and unapologetic so it might be heard as harsh. You couldn't tell apart if he is cursing or if he is just plainly just talking about his day when his friends stop by. He caught you a few times, staring blankly at him when he blurted out dialects out of frustrations, and he laughed them off when you accuse him of lying to you about what the words actually mean.

With his mom stopping by, the dialects are going to be thick and you would probably stare blankly most of the time. Communications are limited and Yoongi had to come back and forth to translate some of them.

Korean cooking is not your forte. Let's put that out there, in the open for everyone to see and understand. You are not familiar with it, and although you love some of it, some just don't fit your taste buds. But Yoongi is a full blown Korean. You make adjustments here and there, but it's not like he is always around for you to cook them often. That's why your korean cooking skills deteriorated. Even simple things like choosing which mushrooms to cook with takes 10 minutes longer than it probably should. You went with your heart and took the one you saw first.

Yoongi came out from the baths to see an empty room. Your perfume wafts over his nostril and it tattles about your whereabouts. Just as he was about to investigate, his phone shrieked a calling tone. It was Jungkook. Asking for a chord. He sounds desperate and bored to death. Being a good friend, Yoongi speds to his home studio after clumsily putting on some white tee on top of a grey shorts, halfway through and sending him several chords the little guy could work with, then pulling the rest of the shirt down as it loads. He swore he didn't take long but he found you already changing your clothes and starting to chop things on the chopping board, sloppily. He knows that it was not you to do things sloppily so he offered to help sharpen the knives.

"Soy garlic stew?"

You chewed your lips at him as he asked and nodded. Anxiety was written all over you. Your hands were already so shaky, and that's why you couldn't hold the knife properly, aside from it being blunt. You turned to the sink and began chopping the scallions with another knife Yoongi handed you.

“There are some potatoes I bought in the paper bags, I brought the mushroom I am familiar with, I am not sure if it's the one used in the stew. What time is it already? Is this enough time to even cook the stew? The chicken hasn’t thaw has it? I am not going to have enough time… She is going to know that the dumpling is store bought and I am putting my pride on the line…” you spoke nonstop, didn’t even hear Yoongi if he was saying anything, which you assumed he was quiet, so you became annoyed and, “Why aren’t answering any questions I have??”

Yoongi stood there, with a blank expression, “You wouldn’t even let me talk…”

You answered your own questions, and he was here listening to everything, opening his mouth and closing it before any word could come out because you bulldozed him with words, as he dug out the potatoes you were talking about, as well as the mushrooms.

“I’m sorry, I watched the youtube video on making the stew on the way to the mart and it seems pretty complicated, but doable… I think that the ginger and garlic goes in first,” you paused and sighed, “It’s been awhile since I cooked a proper meal for myself. I don’t know if I had it in me to even do this anymore…”

That’s right. While Yoongi was always away from the last two years, his work trips extended from 3 months to a whole year, and while studying for your master’s degree, you opt for simpler food, just enough for you to get by the day with a filled stomach. Most of your time is dedicated to your studies and laundry. Stopping by Daegu was hardly done, and if anything, you would just send some gifts her way. It is pretty awkward between you and his mother; language barriers, interests, and principles. You didn’t notice when Yoongi was standing behind you, his hand was on top of yours, soothing over your knuckles and he hijacked the scissors from your hands gently.

And he whispered softly atop of your head, “I got this.”

Just like that, he took over kitchen duties and let you handle the simpler stuff like, putting the pot on the stove, fill water in it, skin the potatoes, chopped them into large cubes, unstub the capsicum, peel the skin off of the chicken, peel the garlic and ginger. Yoongi’s instructions are clear and easy to follow. After all the things are chopped and prepared, he hands the ladle to you.

Your eyes widen. And you shook your head. Stepping back. Yoongi clicked his tongue and chuckled through his nose. Coax you. But no, you stepped farther back. He then took your wrist gently and placed the ladle handle in your palm.

“Trust me?” “I trust you, it’s me I don’t trust.”

“I’ll help you every step. Let’s go. Have confidence!” “You’re the multi billionaire, I’m just the struggling degree student with a part time job.”

“You’re Min Yoongi’s wife.” “I find that hard to believe sometimes…”

With another scolding tut of his tongue, you conceded. With a heavy heart.

The chopped chicken pieces are placed in a boiling water pot, and when its reddish flesh turns white and is cooked, it is drained and washed underneath cold running water to remove impurities. You watched quietly as Yoongi cleans them with his capable hands. His veins protrude, extending well over his forearms. The tip of his fingers were pinker than the rest of his hands, and he smoothes over those nooks and crannies the chicken pieces have. As ridiculous as it may sound, you were quite envious of the fact that those chickens have his full attention now. Next, the carrots.

The carotene source is peeled and chopped in large size. Yoongi helped guide your hands over the handle of the knife, because he is pretty particular on how big he wanted those carrots to be.

“Isn’t that too large?” You asked him in a small voice. They are half the size of your thumb. “No, it’s just nice…” he replied in a low voice, his lips just behind your ear, “It has to be in the same size as the potatoes, so it will cook at the same time.”

Your bottom grazed over his front and he learns to just keep you sandwiched in between the counter and him, so it won’t turn to something else. He is just as anxious as you are with his mom coming. Therefore, the percentage of him turning frisky is zero to none. The onions come next. They are chopped in half and then into fours. Yoongi paused and braced himself for tear gas attacks only there was none. He asks where you bought those onions, and you replied, it was grown in your colleagues garden. They were given for free. And he comments,

“They should sell these, we will be their first loyal customer! It doesn’t sting!”

You laughed as you prepared the fruits you bought. It was rock melon and some papayas. You avoided buying tangerine because you know she will bring some from her hometown, knowing how much Yoongi loves them. Daegu’s tangerines are very sweet and plump. There is nothing like it. Yoongi sliced green onions for the stew and extra hot chili peppers because his mom likes them spicy. Then he prepares the mixture for the broth.

“Now watch,” he instructed you, “Soy sauce, rice wine, red chilli pepper powders, minced garlic, two cups of sugar, red pepper paste, sesame oil, pepper. Mix well.”

Yoongi prepared a pot and placed the cleaned chicken pieces in them, added potatoes, carrots and water with the mixture he made just prior. Then, boil. After the chicken is cooked thoroughly, he adds onions. Then the scallions. Then salt to taste. You prepared the oven and Yoongi carried the pot to it to keep it warm until his mom arrived. Dumplings were pan fried. That one was simple. His mom doesn’t like her beverages too sweet, a simple plain water is enough.

When all the food is done, you turn to him at the same time he did. Sweats rolling down his sideburns and his thin white shirt clinging on his skin like he ran a mile. You approached him with a huge smile, swept his hair back to reveal his forehead and dabbed your inner wrist to wipe away his sweat all around his face. He sniggers through his nose. Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, you can’t help but plant a kiss on them. Nuzzling your face on his neck, you draped your arm around his shoulder and mumbled, “Thank you…”

He leans his cheek on your head and kisses one side of your brain, before exclaiming that you both need another shower after cleaning up the kitchen and turning on the air humidifier to chase away the smell of cooking.

“How was the journey?” you chirped. “The weather is scorching hot, the sun is melting me away before I can meet my son,” Yoongi’s mom complained in a thick Daegu accent, and when she stepped in, she gave you a glance and straight away went looking for her precious son. As expected.

“He was just out of the shower, he will come soon, mother,” you said the last word awkwardly, it doesn’t really roll off your tongue as comfortably as it should. She replied to you with a dejected “Hmm.”

You blinked and cast your eyes downwards, then up again to change the topic, “...Let me take you some cold drink… it must have been a torture, to walk around in such hot weather,” you sped to the kitchen and grabbed her a cold water in a tall glass.

“Hello mom…” Yoongi revealed himself from the hallway, gave his mother a hug that you didn’t receive when she walked in. “It wasn’t torture when I’ve come to see my son!” She suddenly changed her words, now she is all bright and cheerful, and you disappeared from her sight completely unless Yoongi looks over to you and includes you in the conversation. That too, wasn’t permanent. Yoongi learned that his older brother’s wife is carrying a baby and Holly had been snuggling to her tummy at every chance she gets. The sight would have been adorable and they were able to take a picture of it so Yoongi’s mom excitedly showed them to Yoongi. They both are sitting on the sofa while you were in the kitchen scooping up cooked rice into bowls of three.

“This sofa is new isn’t it? I didn’t see it the last time I was here,” his mom asked. “Yes, yes… do you like it?” Yoongi said and said you chose them. Then her enthusiasm dissipates. “I like it better without one. Now it’s too westernized,” his mom’s lips turned lopsided, continuing, “Did you know that hanging your legs down will disrupt the blood flow up to your brain? We better sit down on the floor when we eat, too…”

Yoongi prepared a Japanese folded table and pushed aside the coffee table that was there. Everything you’ve prepared on the dining table was moved to the Japanese one. When everything is set, you and Yoongi wait for his mom to start eating before you both do. It’s tradition. Even between man and wife, the older one begins eating first. Yoongi sips the stew and then you begin scooping the stew into your bowl. You were the only one eating mostly with a spoon instead of chopstick since you aren’t too accustomed to it. Yoongi’s mother said in a joking tone that you should start using the training chopstick used by toddlers.

Why are you extra sensitive today? She was just joking, but smiling is so hard right now. Your cheeks feel heavy and your shoulders stiffened. Yoongi carried the rest of the conversation effortlessly. The deep Daegu accent is already shifting your attention towards the fried dumpling instead. It was just a little over 45 minutes since she arrived, why does it feel like days?

“Dumplings, mother?” You chirped, attempted to use the chopstick and successfully landed them in her bowl.

Then she puts them back where they were, and said, “I don’t eat store-bought dumpling, darling,” before resuming to tell Yoongi the story about her neighbour getting into a real estate feud. You hold your breath in your throat and try not to think about it too much. Although you’ve finished your bowl of rice, Yoongi still hasn’t. He was busy nodding away to what his mother was saying. She barely touched the stew. When she turned to her food, you tapped Yoongi’s knee underneath the table and he looked at you wide eyed, darting at the stew. And Yoongi’s lips turned to the shape of an “O”.

“How do you like the stew, mom?” He asked. “It’s okay…” “My wife made it…” Yoongi said with a smug smile.

You smiled, shyly.

“It tastes exactly how Yoongi would cook it. I thought you cooked it, I know how horrible her korean cooking is, Yoongi… You don’t have to lie to me,” his mom passed.

After bidding her farewell at the door, Yoongi accompanied her to his brother’s incoming vehicle that fetches her. His brother made a promise to stop by when the baby arrives and when the Covid cases reduce a bit. You watched from the window from your bedroom and when the car drove off with Yoongi waving goodbye to his mom, your heart thudded differently.

Your eyes stung, and tears impending to fall as it collected around the brims. As you heard the front door beeping open to Yoongi returning, your feet dashed to the bathroom door, pushing it open as your tears rolled down your face like a dam broke.

Sensitive? Too soft? Was I too emotional? Am I not trying hard enough to be enough?

Yoongi walks in, to an eerily silent house. Ridding his shirt by pulling it over his head as he walks down the dimly lit hallway. His heavy footsteps heard across the floorings and you covered your mouth with your hand to not make any sound. He noticed that the bathroom light was on unlike the rest of the room.

“You’re showering alone? Traitor…” he pouted and wriggled the door knob and noticed it was locked from the inside. “I have a stomach ache,” you hoped you sound convincing. Your voice didn’t sound as shaky and you hope he didn’t catch on. “Okay…” he said, after a long pause. You turned the shower on to reduce the sound of you crying, and went back to sitting on the floor by the door, dug the heels of your palm into your eyes socket, and hugged your knees, sniffling.

“Hey…” his voice muffled through the door. “Hmm?” you replied, through a broken smile.

“Are you okay?”

Another dam broke.

Shit, I’ve started crying again. Why can’t I stop crying?! He is going to find out now… Fuck.

“Talk to me. Please… Say something. Anything,” he puts his lips inches away from the door, covering his hand over his mouth to direct the sound towards you, hoping it would get through.

“Was it mom? She says something you don’t like? You know how mom is, right? She doesn’t mean any of it…” now it’s Yoongi’s turned to bulldoze you with questions he himself answered.

Unable to take it anymore, you had to speak out, even if it means behind closed doors.

“I know she doesn’t like me as a daughter-in-law…” you spoke in broken voices. “Nonsense…” Yoongi passed, nonchalantly.

“No, will you please just listen to me?!” you raised your voice a bit, “I am not like your brother’s wife who cooks great Korean food, who sends her nice homemade desserts to her likings, and now is bearing a grandchild for her. I can’t cook, and had to rely on you a lot. She came over and she didn’t give me a hug like she did you, and the whole she doesn’t even speak to me unless I speak to her first, and even then, she shuts me down so I couldn’t say another word. I can’t even use a damn chopstick or make homemade dumplings she’ll eat!”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to lean his back on the door and hug his knees, then hang his head low.

“Suddenly the sofa is too westernized. And the glass doors letting in too much sunlight when I renovated it the way she wanted. It seems like everything I do is wrong and I just have no place in the Min’s household no matter how hard I try,” you sniffed, and, “To make matters worse she brought up the girlfriends you had in high school and how they cook her favourite food! Girlfriends! Plural! Here I thought you only had one… Jokes on me, I guess… It’s fine, honestly.”

There's nothing more terrifying than the word ‘fine’ you threw when you’re sad and Yoongi knows it. It signifies so many things. It indicates that you’re done, and you’re ready to let go of it, by shoving it under the rug like many other things your mother in law did to you ever since you met her. Yoongi shot his head up when the door opened and his eyes followed you in silence, a little solemn. You dried your hair, sitting on the makeup chair table, running the cool air Dyson hairdryer over the lengths of your hair. Yoongi crawled on all four and knelt behind you to hug your waist, nuzzling his face on your lower back. Then the tears returned, and kept falling.

Your gaze is stuck on the reflection of you in the mirror. What have we become?

It was one of those moments where no words seemed to suffice. Regrets and guilt becomes almost the same thing. Pointing the blame is the last thing on your mind. Choosing sides is difficult when so much is at stake. You may have unclasped his arm from around your waist, heard his wordless gesture and refused to see his face, but so much of him is in you. The fact you held on for so long was because of that man you love and married. Is this going to happen everytime your mother in law stops by?

Even then, you didn't want him to go against his own mother, nor do you want him to side with her… It was such a confusing situation.

Yoongi needs to return to the studio. He packs a few toiletries and clothes for him to wear while he is there. You helped him pack leftover food so you are not burdened to finish everything alone. The conversation shifts to what matters now. You carry your duty as a wife, his partner. You make sure that he is able to provide for this family and even though your emotions are once again neglected for the time being, you were glad that it actually occupied your mind and heart.

At the door, his manager carried his things and instead of leaving along with his manager, Yoongi told him to go first. You already know what comes next. But you aren't sure if you had it in you. One look in your eyes and Yoongi knows that you will rather die than have that conversation all over again. He ran his finger through your hair, lowered his lips to your forehead and stayed like that for awhile, and you said,

“Take care of yourself,” you spoke to his chest, breathing in his musky cologne for the days ahead without him. He stepped back, thumbed your cheek and pinched your chin, tilting your head back. He glanced at your lips while biting his own then backed away, to leave. As the view of his back got smaller and smaller, he exclaimed, “I’m going.” Not once did he turn behind to have one last look. And it was something Yoongi would do. Doesn’t matter if it's at the airport, or at the backstage, he will never look at you after he leaves you, even when he knows you’re right there standing, and looking at him. He says that, if he saw you standing there waiting for him, he will not be able to fight the urge to run to you. So he never looks back. The one thing that he always does before a work trip, is to kiss your forehead. Dr. Laurel Steinberg says, a forehead kiss indicates strong emotional intimacy.

But Yoongi says that a forehead kiss to him signifies a bond that goes beyond lust and love, it was your soul. It is to say, “I might be too far away to hold you, but my soul is yours.” It sends butterflies and confettis your way when he does it. It always feels warm and you always feel protected with a stamp of Yoongi’s lips on your forehead. It feels like a talisman. That no matter what, Yoongi is here.

Recovery. The emotional turmoil, the rollercoaster. You fill your time organizing the photos Yoongi took. With your final exams finished a week ago, you’re given a month off before you begin your final year. Yoongi now lives in his studio office because the album recording session begins and he is in every process. He is in charge of doubling and finalizing the tracks, directing and whatnot. Yoongi sends you a 1 minute 23 seconds video. Scowling at it, your face softened at the sight of him, recording himself in the studio. Dark circles doubled in size and his cheeks sunken. Poor thing hadn't been eating well did he?

“Hey, sweetie…” his familiar guttural voice resonated with your heart strings, “Sorry I haven’t been able to properly give you a call. It’s too late when I’m free, and I’m asleep when you’re awake. So I figured I’ll just send you a damn video, to hell with it.” You chuckled softly as your visions turned blurry.

“I think I will be addressing the recent issue we tucked away for later day. It’s later. You have never been good at fighting for yourself. It was something I don’t really understand because I’ve seen you fight my fight for me,” he glanced to the side and smiled fondly. You were unclear what situation he was talking about but you kept listening.

“You told me that I shouldn’t side with you because that would mean I am against my mother. Here’s what I truly think…” he breathed in and sighed loudly, “I think I should side with you. I spoke to my mom a few days ago, asked her how she is, and I told her several things I don’t like, like bringing up my past ex girlfriend, or how you can’t use the chopstick yet, or how your korean cooking isn’t great yet… how upset it made you and me. She told me that she was just jealous. I left home when I was 16. Come back when I am 20, married at 25. I will always be her son, I let her know that. But I am now someone’s husband, and I happen to cherish this someone, her heart and her wellbeing is my responsibility. I am not stolen from my mom, I consciously chose this person to be with me, to be her husband and built a home with her. And if she can’t respect that, then she cannot return to our house…”

You had to set the phone down and wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“I’m done being a referee,” Yoongi continued after a long pause, “You’re gonna cry again, and I won’t be able to pass you tissue or give you a hug, I hope you understand what I’m trying to say. I am proud of you and all the little things you do. Daegu dialect is difficult to understand ha? That’s alright. You’re getting your degree, and you help pack my things even though you’re sad as hell the day I left. I couldn’t… I couldn’t ask for a better wife, and I hardly think I deserve you. Until we meet again, soon. Your husband, Min Yoongi.”

The video cuts to him winking.

Another text from him,

[Yoongi, 1.03AM] Impression is never permanent. I hope you give mother another try…

Wife is typing...

[Wife, 1.04AM] Erm. [Wife, 1.04AM] Sends a pic.

[Wife, 1.05AM] How’s this for a lasting impression?

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copyright © 2020 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading

[five-rivers]

DP/HP twin fic chapter 1

This would be the first chapter of that DP/HP twin fic...  I need a name for it before I post it elsewhere...  I can’t think of a name... help...  @ladylynse I blame you for this entirely.  It’s 3k and they haven’t even met yet.  What am I doing.

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Here’s the thing.  Danny had encountered wizards before.  And witches.  Multiple times.  

He was not a fan.  

Burning, or other forms of murder, hadn’t ever crossed his mind as a solution to them, even when Freakshow decided to derail his life yet again.  Still. There were only so many times you could stumble upon members of a certain group zapping people with bargain-bin neuralyzers and leaving hours’ worth of uncertain memories in their wake before you got sort of fed up.  

Memory erasure was great in fiction.  Not so much in real life.  

Danny got it.  He’d erased a couple of memories himself.  Well, a lot of memories, depending on how one took the Reality Gauntlet incident.  But as far as motivations went, ‘trying not to be dissected by the government’ was a lot different from ‘we can’t be bothered to be discreet about our sporting events and we think it’s funny that our venue managed to attract ghost hunters when these magicless fools have never seen a real ghost in their lives so we’re going to mess with them.’  

Yeah.  Danny was still annoyed about that.  Also, about their reactions to him when he crossed an invisible line that was apparently supposed to repulse ‘no-majs.’  

That was before getting into Desiree, one of the few witches to become a proper ghost.  According to her, witches and wizards had a different system, and it was rare for magic users to enter the Infinite Realms.  Dora’s dragon amulet had also been enchanted prior to her death, although that could have been a ghost’s work, and Dora had never shared where it had come from.  

Anyway, the point was that Danny knew about magic as an entity separate from ghost powers and at least a small subset of the living beings that relied upon it.  

So, when the woman who dressed like she was living a century ago and smelled of magic walked up to his house, he’d braced himself for a fight.  He wasn’t going to let his parents be ‘obliviated’ again.  They were oblivious enough as it was!

But.  No. She’d come in, no wand in sight (although Danny still wasn’t entirely sure those were necessary) and sat down on the couch, hands primly folded, ignoring all of the… rather questionable features of the Fenton living room.  

To add to the weirdness, his parents had been expecting her.  They knew her by name.  They wanted Danny to be in the room to meet her.  

“Edna,” Jack said, with a strained smile.  “How have you been?”

“Well enough,” said Edna, her eyes flicking to where Danny stood in the kitchen door, watching. “And this must be young Deneb Alased, correct?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, frowning.  There weren’t a whole lot of people who knew his legal name, let alone his middle name.  So, who was this?  “I am.” He looked at his parents, willing them to clear up whatever this was.  

Both of their faces were sour, but they were trying to hide it.  Maddie was doing better than Jack.  

“This is Edna,” said Maddie.  “Why don’t you come and sit down, Danny?”  She patted the back of Jack’s favorite recliner.

Danny noticed how Edna’s mouth twitched down at his nickname. His fingers curled, ghost energy buzzing under his skin just barely kept from his eyes.  He didn’t like this.  

“It’s alright,” said Edna, smiling kindly.  “This must be very confusing for you.  I would be concerned myself, under these circumstances. What I’m about to tell you may be difficult to process, however.”

“We’d like to start it off, actually,” said Maddie. “When you called this morning—” She broke off, making a face.  “We were told this wouldn’t happen.”

“Yes, well,” said Edna.  She shrugged.  “Purebloods. What can you do?  Evidently—Well.  You should have your say, first.”

Danny gave Edna another suspicious glance.  Maybe all wizards weren’t bad.  Maybe Freakshow was an outlier and sports fans just sucked in general.

Yeah, honestly, that tracked.  (Cough, Vlad, cough, Dash, cough.)

He sat down.  “Okay,” he said.  “Way to be ominous.  What’s going on?”

“Well, Danno,” said Jack.  He laughed nervously.

“You’re adopted,” said Maddie, bluntly.

Danny blinked.  “Wait, what?” he said.  “Adopted?  But I look just like you guys!”

Jack’s nervous chuckles continued.  “We are related to your birth parents…  not closely, but…  Yes.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, feeling several layers of personal identity float away from him.  He’d always blamed his weirdness on genetics and family history.  Especially the ghost stuff.  Then again, his name, which definitely did not match with his parents’ or sister’s, probably should have tipped him off.  “You’re serious?”

“I’m afraid so, Danny,” said Jack, kneeling by the chair and patting his knee.  “But don’t worry!  You’ll always be a Fenton, no matter what!”

Danny nodded, swallowing back emotion.  “And Jazz?  Is she…?”

“She’s adopted, too.  At about the same time as you, in fact,” said Maddie.  “So am I and Alicia.  It’s a long story.”

“Okay,” said Danny, determined to get that story at some point.  “Why is she here, then?”

“I was involved in your adoption,” she explained, “and certain members of your birth family want to get back in contact with you.”  

Ancients, that was sure a thing to hit a guy with right after the ‘you’re adopted’ revelation.  

Hold up.  He was forgetting something.  This was a witch.  How did that play into this?  Because it had to.  Witches and wizards, as far as Danny could tell, tended to isolate themselves from the rest of humanity.  

He decided he did not like the probable trajectory of this conversation.  

“Why?” he asked, because he wasn’t going to say he knew about magic until and unless someone else cracked first.  

“Yes,” said Maddie.  “Why?  Why now? We were under the impression that they would never contact us.”

“Evidently,” said Edna, “Deneb’s birth mother was not properly informed of the decision to put him up for adoption.”

Okay.  Yeah. That was a lead-in to his biological parents being magical because he couldn’t think of a single modern western country where that would fly.  

“So, what?  I was kidnapped at birth or something?” asked Danny.

“Not exactly,” said Edna, wincing.  “It was your birth father who filed the paperwork.”

“And she’s only now wondering where Danny is?” asked Maddie, a little shrilly.  Her stress from before was now spilling over into anger so sharp Danny could taste it like a knife on his tongue.  “Did she somehow manage to forget giving birth?”

“No,” said Edna.  “Which brings us to the other matter.  One of the other matters.  The one who first sent the request for your adoption information was actually your twin brother.”

A third monumental revelation.  Wonderful.  What next?

“We, of course, contacted his parents, and discovered the irregularity regarding your birth mother’s consent.  Hence my presence here today.”  She opened her bag and removed a small glass tube, about twice the length of Danny’s palm and the same diameter as a quarter.   “There was also the issue regarding how young you were when you were put up for adoption.  Generally, our agency deals with the placement of children aged from five to eleven.”  She held the tube out to Danny.  “Could you hold this, please?”

“Do you really need to do this?” asked Jack.  

“Due to all the irregularities involved, yes,” said Edna. “Our organization charter unfortunately requires it.  If the mother was not consulted, as is required, the reasoning is that other required things are not as certain.”

“Hold up,” said Danny, hands tightening around the ends of the armrests.  “These people—” Who were most probably wizards, and wasn’t that a thing to get his head around, “—they’re not trying to get custody of me again, are they? After giving me away?”

“No,” said Maddie.  “We won’t let that happen.”

“We’re not going to give him back to people who were going to abandon him just because—!”  Dad broke off.  “Uh. Because.”

Smooth.  

“You know,” said Danny, deciding to cut off… whatever this was. “Even if this ‘test’ is, like…” He trailed off.  “Whatever result you want it to be.  I don’t know.  I’m still going to find out whatever it is you’re dancing around anyway.  Because I’m not going to forget this conversation.”

Silence.  

The witch twitched slightly towards where Danny knew her wand was hidden.  

Screw it.  “And I’m not going to let you erase my memory.  You people do get how messed up that is, right?”

Danny was treated to the sound and sight of three jaws dropping open.  

“How do you-?” started Maddie.  

“You remember when we went to that camp because people thought it was haunted?  But you didn’t find anything?  Well, they managed to get both of you that time, but not me.  And I know you’re one of them, so I’m betting that whatever this is, it has to do with magic.”  He paused. “It was some weird magic sporting event, apparently.”

“The-?  You went to the Quidditch World Cup?” asked Edna.

“What?  No!” protested Maddie.  “That was in Britain, wasn’t it?  We were just in the next state.”  She scowled. “I’m going to write a letter of complaint.  Even if we’re living without magic, we’re not no-majs.  We’re squibs.  They had no right to obliviate us.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.  You’ve lost me.  Squibs?”

No one seemed willing to answer the question.  

“If you’d just take this,” said Edna, holding out the tube a little desperately.  “It will be much easier to explain all at once.”

Danny looked up at his parents.  Jack looked at Maddie.  Maddie drummed her fingers on the back of his chair.  

“It’ll be fine,” said Maddie, “probably.”

“Fine,” said Danny.  He took the tube.  Almost at once, it started glowing green.  

“Oh,” said Edna, frowning and leaning closer.  “It usually isn’t—”

The tube exploded, embedding several small glass shards in Danny’s hands.  

“Ow,” said Danny.  

“Oh,” said Edna again, evidently not registering the small splinter of glass in her cheek.  “Well. Whoever your birth father hired to test your magic as an infant obviously got it wrong.  Congratulations, Mr. Fenton.  You’re a wizard.”

“My hand is bleeding.”

“Yes,” agreed Edna.  “It isn’t supposed to explode, you see.”

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Once Danny got cleaned up, which involved a lot of glaring at Edna from Maddie and Jack, they adjourned to the kitchen, which was free of random glass shards.  

“The adoption organization I work for,” said Edna, “places squibs—people born to magical parents who do not have magic themselves—with families of squibs.  Assuming the child’s birth parents do want to give up their child over something like not having magic.”  Her nose wrinkled.  “The common wisdom is that it is easier for such children to grow up in an environment that is not explicitly magical.  In any case, it is my personal belief that anyone who would give up a child over something like that isn’t going to be the best of parents.”

“Alright,” said Danny, “so… all of us are squibs.”

“Except you, apparently,” said Edna.  “It’s hard to tell whether or not someone as young as you were when you were given up will be magical or not.  Which is why we usually only deal with older children.  I don’t suppose you’ve noticed anything odd happening around yourself?  Or unusual abilities?”

Danny stared at her flatly for several long moments.  His entire life could be classified as ‘odd,’ and most of it he wasn’t about to share with Edna.  Or his parents, as much as he loved them.

But, on the other hand, he now had a great excuse for at least some of his weirdness.  His parents wouldn’t think ghost if they could think wizard first.

“Like, define ‘odd,’” said Danny.  Despite his earlier encounters with wizards, he had no idea what was normal for them.  Other than memory wiping.  Which he could not do and wouldn’t have demonstrated anyway.  

Okay.  If was actually a wizard, and Edna’s doohickey wasn’t just reacting to his ghostliness, he probably could learn how to do the memory thing, but he didn’t know now, so the distinction was meaningless.  

(Maybe being a wizard or a squib or whatever was why he wasn’t just.  Dead.)

(Yeah, he didn’t want to think about that.)

“Just…  Being in one place, and then a different place.  Surviving something you shouldn’t have been able to unscathed.  Things moving by themselves or changing color or size. Temperature changes.  Something you want very badly happening, even if it is impossible or extremely unlikely.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.”

“To which one?” asked Jack, concerned.  “I haven’t noticed anything like that except what the ghosts do.”

“Um,” said Danny.  “This?”  He put his hand down on the table, intending to leave an icy handprint.  That should be acceptable, right?  If temperature changes were normal…

His nerves got the best of him.  He knew he was nervous showing even one of his powers around his parents.  He overcompensated.  

The table was covered with frost.  

“Oops?” said Danny.  

All the blood had left Edna’s face.  Jack and Maddie didn’t look much better.  

“Dear lord,” said Edna.  “You can do that at will?”

“Yes,” said Danny, holding his hand close to his chest. “More or less.”

“Danny,” said Jack, “why didn’t you tell us?”

“I thought you’d think it was a ghost thing.  You kind of shoot first and ask questions later about ghost things.”

“Oh my god,” said Edna.  “Never mind that.  You can do wandless magic and you’re fourteen?”

“Fifteen,” said Danny, “but, yeah.  I guess.”

Evidently, this wasn’t normal.  

Also, his comment about shooting first hurt his parents’ feelings.  Go figure. Not like they weren’t keeping a massive secret.  

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“So,” said Danny, once the other discussions had been shelved for the time being, “I have a brother?  I think a brother was, at some point, mentioned.”

“Yes,” said Edna.  “A twin brother.  He wants to meet you.  Along with your biological mother.”

“And if I don’t want to?” asked Danny.  “If I don’t want to have anything to do with them?”

“I don’t even know,” said Edna.  “I can’t believe you slipped under the national detection spell. There’s going to be so much paperwork involved in this.  International paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“You were born in Britain,” said Edna, as if this were a minor detail.  

Yeah.  Like his sense of self needed any further pummeling.  

“But it isn’t our fault everything is so messed up,” said Danny.  He maybe had some curiosity about his twin brother, but if there was any risk he’d be taken away…

“I understand,” said Edna, “but nothing like this has come up before, as far as we know.”  She sighed. “If it makes you feel better, I will use any influence I have in the matter to recommend that you retain custody of Deneb.  In the meantime…  Do you want to, uh, open communications with any members of your biological family?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Can I think about it?”

.

Relations in the Malfoy household had been strained ever since Draco’s investigation of his family tree (unrelated to the return of the Dark Lord and how blood purity was now much, much more important) had revealed that his twin brother had not, in fact, died at birth.  

And by strained, Draco meant that his parents had taken to living on opposite sides of the manor, interacting only when there were visitors.  Visitors such as his father’s Death Eater friends, members of society, and various government officials.  All of whom were more alike, and had greater overlap, than even Draco had initially suspected.  

This left Draco walking on eggshells between the two of them and wishing for Hogwarts to start again.  Anything he did to please one had to be entirely out of sight of the other, or else they began to fight again.  Truthfully, Draco was more on his mother’s side, all things considered, but his father was the one with the friends, and Draco couldn’t stay home under his mother’s wings for all his life.  Like his dragon namesake, he had to fly.  

Which he would most certainly do.  Soon.  No, he wasn’t hiding from his parents in his room.  That would be ridiculous.  They knew where his room was.  They could find him if they wanted to, and neither of them was anywhere near him.  He knew.  He’d checked.

This made the inarticulate shriek of rage he overheard from his mother all the more concerning.  

It was enough to make him emerge – cautiously! – from his self-imposed exile.  

He was curious.  And stupid.  It got him into enough trouble at school, why not at home?

Also, he really needed to know.  For his own safety.  Tiptoeing around whatever disaster just happened would be impossible if he didn’t know what it was.  

Instead, he tiptoed after his mother.  

His mother, who was angry enough that sparks were coming off the end of her tightly gripped wand.  Green sparks.  

Draco had never actually seen the killing curse in action, but his mother’s face screamed murder all on its own, no magic required, despite the fact that Draco was only catching glimpses of it as she strode towards his father’s half of the house.  

This was going to be bad.  Terrible.  Possibly the kind of event that saw one of his parents in Azkaban and the other in little, tiny pieces all around the smoking room.  

Lucius, for his part, looked paralyzed where he stood, and Draco briefly entertained the notion that Narcissa had managed to cast petrificus totalis on him without moving her wand or speaking the words.

Narcissa planted herself firmly in front of Lucius and glared up at him, seething, her breath making sucking noises as it passed through her teeth.  

She punched Lucius in the face.  The man toppled, clutching his nose.  Narcissa kicked him.

It was a good thing that the Malfoys had no neighbors, because what Narcissa screamed next likely could have been heard for at least a mile.

“He wasn’t even a squib, you lying bastard!”

[tefilovesreading]

It’s a match! Part. 2

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None, language but that’s it.

A/N: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED. 

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland​ 

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 3

“What do you mean he sent you a good morning text?” Jo asked, almost choking on her toast.

“He asked for my number last night,” Y/N explained, her hands shaking while she tried to unlock her phone, “and when I woke up, I had a text from him saying good morning and wishing me a good day.”

“Damn the boy is a keeper,” her friend whistled and winked at her after she read the message.

“He told me he wanted to FaceTime.”

She sat on the stool next to where her best friend was sitting and rested her chin on her hand. The butterflies in her stomach felt more like hundreds of bees buzzing fiercely in there. 

“And you?” Jo questioned with an intrigued look on her face, “do you wanna do it?”

“I think so,” Y/N answered, biting the inside of her cheek, “he’s really cute, and I had fun texting last night.”

“Well that’s a new one,” the ginger girl joked. All their friends knew how much Y/N hated texting, leaving messages on read for days, or taking absolutely forever to respond. She always felt weird texting, not knowing very well how to keep the conversation going over text.

“Tell him you have thirty minutes, and then you have to go do something else,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and Jo rolled her eyes, “that way if you don’t feel comfortable you have an easy exit.”

“And what if I’m enjoying it?” Jo looked at her as if she was trying to explain how the water cycle worked to a kid, “Jo I’m being serious!”

“In that case, my love, you hang up and call him again after you tell me everything.”

“Who said I was gonna tell you anything, uh?” Y/N smirked and blew her a kiss after her friend gave her an offended look.

“Whatever, Y/N,” Jo flipped her off, “just tell him your professor was sick or something like that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, did I tell you that?” Y/N kissed her friend’s cheek and then jumped off, “I’m gonna go take a shower, see you later.”

“See you later, babe,” Jo said, “don’t forget to eat!”

“I won’t!” Y/N yelled, on her way to the bathroom they shared.

Y/N: Good morning! Hope you have a great day too

She smiled satisfied at her reply and hit the send button.

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she felt so giddy about a guy, it was exciting, to say the least. Charlie seemed like an easygoing person and really easy to talk to. Sure she was nervous talking to him, but who wouldn’t? The guy was super cute and so nice to her, she already knew she’d be crushing hard.

Thirty minutes later, she was on her way to class with time to go to her favorite coffee shop and have a quick breakfast.

Charlie: Didn’t think you’d answer me so early hahaha Y/N: I have a class in like 20 minutes, wouldn’t have woken up this early if i didn’t have class lol Charlie: So you’re not a morning person Y/N: Oh no, absolutely not!!

She smiled at the boy in the cashier and laughed softly when he asked her if she was ordering the same thing she always did.

“Oh, can you add a brownie please?” Y/N asked politely, while she looked for her card on her bag. After paying for her food, she went to one of the tables in the back.

Charlie: Noted! I swear i try to not wake up early but i can’t Y/N: I bet you’re the kind of friend that wakes everyone up with a lot of noise  Charlie: How did ya know that hahahaha Y/N: I was just guessing, but you do seem like a loud person Charlie: I am, i won’t try to deny it Charlie: What about you??  Y/N: Mmm Y/N: It depends Y/N: But my laugh is extra loud, so I can’t say I’m a quiet girl

“Vanilla latte!” Y/N put away her phone and stood up to get her order.

“Thanks, Dylan,” she thanked the boy and grabbed a few napkins before making her way back to her table. 

Charlie: I bet your laugh is really cute

Her cheeks were burning after that message, and it took her a couple of minutes to tame the butterflies in her stomach before she was able to type a response. Because as much as she wanted to laugh it off and change the topic, she knew he was flirting with her and if she didn’t flirt back, their conversation was basically dead.

Y/N: Guess you’ll have to find out yourself ;).

That was a nice reply, right? She screenshotted their chat and sent it to Jo. If anyone knew how to flirt while texting, it was her best friend.

Y/N: How does it look? Is it too much?? Too little?? Y/N: H E L P

Jo’s response was quick as always. One of the many reasons she loved her.

Jo: Girl it’s fine Jo: Stop worrying about it Jo: It’s mysterious and a good way to tell him you wanna FaceTime Y/N: Ok ok thank you love ya Jo: Love you more  

Checking the hour on her phone, Y/N finished her bagel and gathered her stuff. She waved Dylan goodbye and left the coffee shop. She spent more time than she expected to in there and if she didn’t hurry she’d be late for class. 

It was times like this one that made her regret not knowing how to drive because even if all her classmates liked the Lyft program they had for free, she still felt unsafe getting in the car without a friend.

Back in the day, when she was still dating Lance, he’d made sure to call her and talk to her during the whole ride to wherever Y/N needed to go just to make her feel safe. After all, he was never a bad boyfriend, their paths just went in different ways and they both wanted different things in life.

Charlie: Yeah i guess Charlie: What if i call you later when you’re done with your classes??Charlie: No pressure

She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks for the second time in less than an hour and had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. 

Y/N: Sure, i’ll let you know once i’m done Y/N: But i have to say bye for now Y/N: Gotta pay attention haha Charlie: Get that degree! Charlie: Talk to you later!

Focusing on whatever her professor was saying was a hard task, she just wanted to pull her phone out and text Charlie, see what he was up to and get home as soon as possible, so they could FaceTime.

Sitting on the edge of her seat, she couldn’t help but bounce her leg to relieve the eagerness rushing through her veins. She still had fifteen minutes left, and then she’d be sprinting out of the classroom and going back to her apartment.

“Dude, do you gotta use the bathroom or what?” Sadie, the girl she always sat with during class, whispered through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” she apologized, crossing her legs to stop herself from bouncing her leg. Although the new position didn’t stop her from moving her foot. 

“What’s up with you?” Sadie snorted once she realized Y/N couldn’t sit still.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, scribbling on her notebook the pages she needed to read for the next class, “I just wanna go home.”

“But you have never been this eager to leave this class,” the girl commented without looking at her, too focused on taking notes, “you love this class.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N let out a sigh and checked the hour on her watch, “I just don’t feel like sitting here right now.”

Her classmate didn’t make another comment about her eagerness to leave the classroom, she just nodded her head as if she was telling her she understood.

“I think that’s all for today, guys,” the professor mentioned, leaning on the desk, “have a good day, and don’t forget to read the articles I mentioned.”

Y/N hurried to gather her things and waved Sadie goodbye before walking as fast as she could to the door. She needed to leave before the halls flooded with students. Y/N considered taking the stairs instead of the elevator but knowing how clumsy she could be, she opted for the latter. Falling down the stairs wasn’t on her plans.

Twenty minutes and a mile later, she dropped her keys on the bowl next to the door of her apartment and kicked off her shoes. She checked her out in the full-length mirror Jo had in their living room and shrugged. Charlie knew she was a college student, and it wouldn’t be weird to see her wearing a hoodie with her college’s logo, also, she was comfy and didn’t want to change into something else. 

She fixed her hair and made sure she didn’t have smudged mascara under her eyes and then made herself comfortable on the couch.

Y/N: Just made it home

Y/N: That was one hell of a long class haha

She bit her nails, the nervousness kicking in while she waited for a response from Charlie. Maybe he was busy now that she wasn’t. God if their schedules didn’t let them at least FaceTime, she felt like she’d start crying and delete the app. It wasn’t like she was talking to other guys though.

Charlie: Finally!! Charlie: Wanna FaceTime?? Or are you tired?

“Fuck no,” she whispered to herself before she started writing her reply.

Y/N: Nah! Let's FaceTime

Her heart started pounding on her chest when the video call entered and the phone started vibrating in her hand.  

“Shit, shit, shit,” she cursed before putting a smile on her face and answering the call. “Hey!”

Holy shit. His pictures didn’t make him justice. 

“How you doin’?” Charlie said and her cheeks blushed.

“It’s that a Friends reference?” she asked trying to hide her smile.

“I swear I don’t mean it in that way,” he laughed, and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made her heart flutter. “But seriously, how was your day?”

“It was good even though I hate waking up early,” the way Charlie was looking at her with so much attention, even if it was through a screen it  made her feel so confident, “I had breakfast at this little coffee shop near my apartment and then went to class.”

“But that sounds like a nice morning,” Charlie mentioned, his sweet smile never leaving his face.

“What were you up to anyway?”

“Not much actually,” he shrugged and the gesture made him look young, “I went for a run, then I had to film some tapes for a few auditions, and now I’m chilling.”

“You’re an actor,” Y/N pointed out, not even surprised about the new information he just revealed. It was Los Angeles after all.

“I am,” he smiled, and she swore she could see a pink tint on his cheeks, “I started back in Canada when I was about fourteen or fifteen.”

“Any chances I’ve watched it?” Charlie scrunched his nose and shook his head.

“Maybe, if you are into foreign films,” Y/N tilted her head confused at his answer, “It’s in French.”

“You learned how to speak in French for the movie?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows together when Charlie started laughing.

“I grew up speaking French and English,” he explained with a soft smile, “I’m French Canadian.”

“That makes a lot more sense now,” she laughed off her embarrassment, “I’m gonna blame the fact that I woke up early today. I’m not this dumb, I swear.”

“Don’t worry,” he said and the smile faded just enough for her to notice his intense stare, “I thought it was cute.”

She bit her lip at his words and tried to look away from the screen, but Charlie’s eye contact felt as if he was looking right into her soul and she couldn’t break that connection even if she wanted to. And she definitely didn’t want to do that.

tagged: @chevyimpala00067​ @samanthawilliamspring​ @searchingunderthestars @luke-patt @moneybagmgk @angisbr @happinessinthedarkesttimes @knitsessed @cordeliascrown @crybabyddl @phantompogues @the-romanian-is-bae @doaspeggy-says

[the-untamed-obsession]

AAA- Changes of Regret h u r t-!! It was so good,,, qwq If it's alright, may I request the reader being brought back to life post Guanyin Temple? Kinda like a continuation but our poor Xichen finally gets some sort of happiness. Stay safe!<3

Haiii!! I kinda couldn’t resist 😅 I hope you like it! It’s longer than the original!

Side note: Alessia and Scarlett are my OCs! They’re my good ocs ^w^

PART 1 HERE

Word count: 2.4k

Changes of Regret II

“It’s here.” The blue-haired woman mentioned as she tapped on a headstone. There were small wisps around her that lit up the extremely dark cemetery. “(Y/n)’s buried here.”

“Thank you, Alessia.” Scarlett spoke as she touched the large headstone. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and smiling. Both women stood back as Alessia waved her hands, causing a burst of energy to destroy the headstone and creating a large opening right above the coffin.

With her magic, Alessia was able to lift the coffin out of its grave and placed it on the ground. She tore the top off, allowing Scarlett to look inside. Her gentle green eyes scanned your features before a smile appeared on her face.

“Perfect.” Reaching down, Scarlett’s hand touched your chest, a golden glow starting to emit from the touch. It glowed brighter and brighter, outshining the wisps Alessia had. The said mage watched from behind, ready to help in case anything went wrong.

Scarlett had been practicing Necromancy for a long while and her ultimate goal was to revive a corpse to its original form. She wanted no negative effects of the summoning which were prone to happen due to the nature of such rituals.

The glow finally started to dim, transferring to Scarlett’s eyes instead. The light was almost blinding in the final moments of the spell. Finally, she pulled away and watched you; Alessia joining seconds later.

“Did it work?” The mage inquired as the two stared down at your form. Your fingers twitched before your eyes shot open, glowing a bright pink before returning to their normal color.

“Yes. It worked.”

***

It had been about two years since you were brought back from the dead. The entirety of that time was given to Scarlett as she took care of you while you recovered. There had been two main problems with being brought to life. One unexpected side effect with bringing someone back to life was the healing process. Yes, even you needed to heal.

The typical healing time depended on the person. Children often took four to five years to fully heal, while adults took one to two. Your healing process lasted a little over a year and a half. You learned how to walk, talk, eat, and co-exist with others. Although it seemed rather simple, you had a very hard time readjusting.

The other problem was the lack of memories. As you started to heal, you realized you knew nothing of the past. Not one memory surfaced the entire time. Alessia had promised once you were fully healed and ready to go, she’d help bring them back. Until then, you only knew one thing. Your name.

Currently, you and Scarlett were making your way to Alessia. You had been fully healed for about three days now and as promised, Alessia wanted to help recover your memories. The walk from Scarlett’s home to Alessia’s was a little over five minutes.

“We’re here.” Scarlett announced, as she entered the home. She never knocked but her friend never seemed to care. Alessia came out and greeted you two with a bright smile.

“Today’s the big day! Are you excited?” You mirrored her smile and nodded, letting her lead you into another room. Scarlett waited outside, knowing this was private matters, and although she was like your mother this entire time, she knew some things were just too personal.

You laid down on the bed that Alessia had prepared while she sat down on the chair beside you.

“Close your eyes and clear your mind.” She instructed as she held her hands over your form. You obeyed her and did your best to not think of anything. Warmth wrapped around your form and your mind started to feel fuzzy. You felt so tired… almost as if you were about to fall asleep. You wanted to warn Alessia, but found yourself too exhausted to do so.

Instead, you fell into a deep slumber. It took a few seconds before you felt your feet hit the ground and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself in an unrecognizable garden. There were many small wisps flying around, some even twirling and dancing around you. You giggled and reached out to touch them, when a particular wisp flew up to you.

It felt so… familiar. To the point where you’d forgotten about the others and followed where it attempted to lead you. You followed it through the garden and to a large door. It was connected to nothing, just a doorframe in the middle of the pathway. The wisp stopped at the door handle and you assumed it wanted you to walk through.

You followed its instructions, entering a forest. As you followed down the path with the wisp, you saw small visions. Were… these your memories?

“Wei Wuxian! Nice to meet you!”

“I’m (y/n)! It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, young master Wei.”

That… was Wei Wuxian. Your best friend… someone you’d give your life for. Literally. You walked up to his transparent figure, his smiling bringing a sense of nostalgia and melancholy to your heart.

The wisp garnered your attention once more and led you further down the path, where you saw another vision.

“You must be (y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y-you’re Lan Xichen! One of the Twin Jades of Lan!”

His humble chuckle sent a wave of butterflies through your stomach. His handsome smile made your cheeks light up, but his voice made your heart ache. Why? What happened?

You followed the wisp further into the forest, coming upon yet another vision. This… was Wei Wuxian. He seemed… different from the first vision. Why… were you guarding him?

“Stay back!”

“Get away from him, (y/n)! He’s the Yiling Patriarch!”

“I… I know. But I won’t allow you to hurt him!”

What? Who was the Yiling Patriarch? As you thought that, your mind answered your own question. He became the Yiling Patriarch when he was thrown into the Burial Grounds, where he’d go on to invent Demonic Cultivation.

Why… did you defend him?

You placed a hand on your chest and closed your eyes, seeking the answer. No less than two seconds later, you had it.

Loyalty.

You and Wei Wuxian were fiercely loyal to each other. No matter what, Wei Wuxian always protected you and you protected him. You stood by his side, no matter what. Even when Lan Wangji had started to question him, even when he abandoned the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, even when he’d accidentally killed Jin Zixuan, when he’d ultimately lost control of Wen Ning, you were always there to help him. In turn, no matter what, Wei Wuxian strived to keep you safe and sound.

Then what happened? Why did you hurt like this? You knew you died for him… but what happened?

As you continued to follow the wisp, you came across another vision.

“Don’t do this, (y/n)!” Lan Xichen begged, but you’d looked away.

“I’m sorry. I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying with Wei Wuxian… goodbye.”

You watched your transparent figure leave and when you looked at Lan Xichen, you felt your heart shatter. The look of pure agony and pain in his eyes as he watched you leave brought everything back.

That’s right. You’d abandoned your boyfriend because your loyalty to Wei Wuxian was stronger. You knew you’d hurt him, but at the same time you felt he understood. It still hurt to think about.

The further down the path you went, the more memories you unlocked. Towards the end, you found the same door you did at the beginning. The wisp touched the handle and you reached out to touch it. Instead of it walking you through, however, it vanished. You looked back at the forest with solemn eyes before walking through the door.

Who knew your past had been so lonely and broken?

***

“You’re awake.” You blinked to get the haze out of your eyes before looking at Alessia. “Did you recover all your memories?” You nodded as certain memories rushed back at you. Already, your cheerful demeanor had been crushed.

“Did… you see?”

“No, I can’t. I can just help bring them back… but I can tell from your face it wasn’t pretty.” You shook your head and sat up.

“I… have to go see someone. Now.”

“Ok, let’s go.” With that, you three were off. You knew exactly where to go and you hoped he was still there. Your Xichen. It was a long journey, one where you contemplated turning back numerous times. You were scared. What would he say? What would he do? What… would happen to him?

It had been about three years since your death, added with the two years from the recovery period, you had been “dead” for five years. How was Xichen now? Did he move on? Was he married? There had been so much that had happened and the way you died without being able to tell him everything you wanted sent a deep sense of regret through you. But you wouldn’t quit. No, you would see him and you would explain everything to him.

If by the end of it he wanted you to disappear and never return, you would do so. If he wanted you to stay, you would do so. You’d only hoped it would end well and that all of your worries were just that.

“We’re here.” Scarlett announced as she stopped. You three stood at the base of the mountain, one that was so familiar to you even though you hadn’t seen it in your new life. You remembered many memories here, but only one stuck out at you.You looked at the two women behind you who gave you a supportive smile.

“Go on. We’ll be here when you get back.” Alessia smiled, with a little wave.

“Take care and don’t be scared.” Scarlett added, patting your head. You gave them a bright smile and nodded before running off up the stairs. You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to see him.

***

Xichen sat at the table, his eyes glancing over the letter he’d been sent a few days ago. It had been expressing concerns about recent events that had taken place nearby, all relating to demonic activity. He sighed, feeling the stress build up. The paper slipped from his hand and fell onto the ground, but he didn’t care to pick it up.

He stared out the window, seeing a cloud rolling by. Immediately, his mind left from his current concerns and to some fantasy world. He daydreamed about you often. Even now, years later, nothing had changed. Xichen was the same mess as before. He was clumsy, unable to concentrate on anything, and often had to be forced to do any work. Even then, any progress he made was either painstakingly slow or none at all.

Xichen had given up all efforts in trying to heal. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to get better, he didn’t want to move on, he didn’t want to try and become what he used to be. He wanted you and nothing else, unfortunately, he couldn’t have you.

He barely registered the door opening, someone walking in, and sitting down in front of him. He just stared off into the distance as your smiling face came into his mind. He did his best to remember you, never wanting to face the day where he couldn’t recall what you’d looked like.

Finally, a hand waved in front of his face, making him blink back into reality. He sighed and looked at the person in front of him. At the sight, he was immediately startled.

You sat there with a look of concern on your face. You moved a little closer, slowly in fear of him moving away, but he didn’t react at all.

“Are you ok, Xichen?” You… sounded exactly the same.

He’d lost it. Xichen had officially lost it and now he was hallucinating. Great, as if he couldn’t get any worse. But… was that so bad? He’d lost interest in life the day you left him, so what did it matter now?

At least now it felt like you were here, that you were real. When you smiled at him, his heart fluttered like never before. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheeks. They were warm.

“(y/n)...” he murmured as he looked over your features repeatedly. If you were a hallucination then that meant you’d disappear soon. He had to make sure he studied every inch of your face before you left him again.

“Xichen… you’ve given up.” You whispered, making him look away shamefully.

“I… don’t care. I don’t want anything. I don’t care for anything. I just needed you.” This is what you’d done to him. You’d taken a powerful, kind, graceful man and turned him into… nothing. Although it wasn’t on purpose, you couldn’t help but feel responsible. Both of you had made mistakes, but this was never the outcome you’d imagined.

You knew Xichen never blamed you, he just wasn’t like that. You were positive even now he didn’t blame you. But you blamed yourself. Someone needed to be held responsible for this...

“I’m here now,” you said, taking his face in your hands, “I’m back so I want you to come back too. I want you to be the same as you were before.” He shook his head with a sad smile.

“You’re not back. You’re… just a hallucination. You’ll disappear and it’ll be like I lost you all over again.”

“I’m real! Look!” You took his hand and placed it on your chest, where he could feel your heart beating. That was… odd. He must’ve really lost it if you were this real.

However, his negative thoughts were crushed when he heard the door open. In ran his brother, Lan Wangji, who stared at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered as he fell to his knees beside you. He took you by the shoulders and stared at you with pure shock. “You’re alive… you’re actually alive.” He looked at his brother who seemed to be just as surprised. Up until now, he hasn’t even considered the idea of you actually being alive. He genuinely believed he had gone crazy.

“It’s r-real?” The broken question pained your heart but you nodded. Lan Wangji nodded too, confirming the “hallucination” was indeed real.

“I’m real, Xichen. I’m real.” Almost instantly, you were taken into his arms and he held you so tightly. You had many questions about what had happened since your death, but they could wait until later.

Right now, you two just needed… this. You needed to be close to each other. Especially Xichen. He needed to be reminded that you were actually here and that you wouldn’t leave him again.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (7)

(I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! Feel free to check out the mini series connected to this fic called Journal Entries. I will warn whoever reads it that I’m not sure how long I’m going to keep it up, though.)

Ch.1 / Ch.6 / Ch.8

Chapter 7: That Happy Glow

“This is gonna be so much fun, Tikki!” Marinette exclaimed as she slid on her light pink flats. “I can’t wait to get to the aquarium!”

“Don’t forget your purse!” Tikki reminded, zipping around her chosen’s head. “I want to see some of the fish too!”

Marinette laughed and reached for her coat. The weather had been reported to drop over the weekend, and she didn’t want to take any chances. “Of course! I’ll make sure to pack some cookies for you too.”

When Felix told her last Monday that Adrien came to Rosemary looking for her, She’d been understandably distraught. Dupont had been given strict instructions to keep her new school’s name a secret, yet her old classmates were still coming to talk to her. It left many questions that needed to be answered. For example, how did they find out? Did Bustier tell them? Felix had mentioned that a girl was the one to give Adrien the information, though that hardly narrowed down the suspect list. Was Adrien the only one who knew? If not, were her other classmates going to try to come for her too? She’d asked her mother about it as soon as she got home, and as expected, Sabine flew into a rage. 

“I send my daughter to a new school to get her away from her old classmates, and what do they do? They follow her there!” She’d fumed. “Unbelievable.”

Once Marinette talked her down from calling the police to file for harassment, they called the school, and Mme Bustier insisted that they’d been tight lipped about Marinette’s new school, but Marinette didn't buy it. Who else could have told Adrien? No one knew about her attending Rosemary, not unless Nathalie managed to find the information, and that was highly unlikely.

Although the situation was a mix of frustrating and worrisome, Marinette took comfort in the fact that Adrien seemed to believe she wasn't actually attending Rosemary. At the very least, he hadn’t stopped by again- as far as she knew -and hadn’t visited the bakery again either.

A small sigh passed her lips at the thought of how close she'd come to exposing herself as a Rosemary student. Thank goodness Felix had been out there to greet Adrien instead. His quick thinking had really saved her, and he even offered to give her a ride home afterwards. (For the second time) She never intended on asking Felix for help with things like this- mostly because she didn't want to bother him -but it was good to know she could depend on him when she needed to. Not only did he help her with Adrien, she also noticed him trying to keep others around her during the day after everything blew over. Allegra would order lunch with her more. Claude would join her to go to the lockers more. Allan would walk her to classes that they didn't have together. Things like that. Felix even offered to accompany her himself on a few occasions. It was a sweet gesture, and although the extra attention wasn’t necessary, it was greatly appreciated. Maybe she should make him a little thank you gift. What sort of things does he like again? Books and chess.. and silence.. how could she make a gift out of that?

Either way, Marinette couldn't thank him enough for his kindness, and now that six days of blessed silence has passed, the nervousness from the Adrien encounter was replaced with giddy enthusiasm for the aquarium. She buzzed around her bedroom to finish getting ready, putting on her scarf and earmuffs as quickly as she could. Allegra was supposed to come pick her up, but they were all going to meet up and walk into Aquarium de Paris together. She didn’t want to hold anyone up.

Marinette wrapped her purse around her shoulder, finally finishing her outfit, and bounced over to the trapdoor to go downstairs. Allegra should be arriving in about five minutes. That gave her just enough time to snag a few cookies for Tikki, a croissant for herself (and maybe Claude), and say goodbye to her parents. 

“Goodmorning, sweetheart!” Sabine greeted warmly.

“Morning, Maman!” Marinette smiled, briefly pausing to let her mother kiss her on the forehead.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Tom asked, holding out an arm to her.

Marinette let out a nervous chuckle as she gave him a side hug. “Yes and no. I was kind of too excited to sleep.”

“You and me both.”

Marinette turned to one of the small tables in the bakery to see Allegra sitting with a smile and a cup of coffee. She was bundled up too, which told Marinette that she was probably right to put on her winter clothes.

“You’re already here?” Marinette asked, panic briefly seizing her chest. She looked around for the time. “How long have you been waiting? Am I late again?”

Allegra chuckled and stood up to pull Marinette into a hug. “Not at all! I just happened to get here a few minutes early, and your parents offered me a coffee while we waited for you to come down.”

Marinette relaxed a bit and hugged Allegra back. “You could have come upstairs to get me.”

“I didn’t want to rush you.” Allegra shrugged. “Besides, your parents are fun to talk with!”

Tom and Sabine both smiled and straightened with pride, causing Marinette to giggle.

“Here,” Tom said, taking a brown, paper bag out from under the counter. “We packed some breakfast for you.” 

“And made sure to put plenty of croissants in for Claude and the others.” Sabine added with a smile.

Marinette took the bag with a sincere “thanks”. That saved her time on sneaking around for snacks.

“Oh, Claude is going to love those.” Allegra smirked, touching the bag to feel how warm it was. 

Marinette giggled and nodded in agreement. It’s been almost three weeks since she started at Rosemary, and Claude still asks for croissants every lunch period. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yep! My driver’s waiting out front for us.” Allegra replied, tilting her head in the direction of the door.

“Have fun, you guys!” Sabine cooed.

“Make sure to take plenty of pictures with the fish!” Tom added with a wave.

“We definitely will.” Allegra beamed, looping her arm with Marinette’s.

With a final wave, they stepped outside together, and Marinette sharply inhaled as the chill of the air immediately gnawed at her features. She knew it was going to be cold, but she didn’t think it would be this cold. 

I hope Felix didn’t decide to get there early today. Marinette thought to herself as they scrambled into the backseat of the car. 

“So are you excited?” She asked Allegra while buckling in. Claude had been bouncing around the school walls all week for this trip, but Allegra hadn’t said much about it. Neither had Allan. Of course, they didn’t have to be excited. Marinette was just curious as to whether they were or why they weren’t.

“Absolutely!” Allegra grinned, bringing a smile to Marinette’s lips as well. Guess people show their excitement in different ways.

“Probably not as excited as Claude, though.” The blonde continued, a humorous expression crossing her features. “How many fish did he text on the group chat again?”

Marinette squinted slightly as she thought about it. “I think.. Twenty seven? Maybe twenty eight.”

“Twenty eight sounds about right.” Allegra said with a nod. “I swear Allan was this close to blocking him.” 

Marinette laughed. “That knife meme was hilarious! I still can’t believe that Felix was the one who sent it. I was starting to think he didn’t read the group chat.”

“Yeah, he surprises us every now and then.” Allegra mused, a fond smile coming to her lips. “Like this aquarium trip. I don’t think he’s ever once agreed to go somewhere with us after the first invite.”

Marinette shrugged and settled into her seat as the driver pulled out onto the road. “Well, he did say that you were going to force him either way.”

Allegra’s smile turned devilish. “And he’s absolutely right. If he had said no to coming, I would have dragged him there myself, but that’s never stopped him before.”

Marinette tilted her head in a nod. That was certainly true.

“Maybe he just likes aquariums?”

Allegra hummed, a mischievous glint in her sky blue eyes as she said, “Or maybe he likes someone who’s going to the aquarium.”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. Like as in like like? Like a crush? Felix didn’t seem like the type to have a crush on someone, though after hearing him talk about the lovers in his classical playlist, she supposed it was a possibility. 

“Is there someone else you guys know that might be there?”

A short laugh burst from Allegra’s lips, almost like Marinette had missed the point of something, and she shook her head. “No, nevermind. Forget I said anything. Let’s just enjoy our agreeable Felix while we have him.”

Marinette nodded, though her thoughts still lingered on the comment. Felix developing romantic feelings for someone sounded like such a foreign concept to her. Not that he was unlovable, or anything. He was just.. too logical. He didn’t dote on feelings. The only circumstance where she can clearly see him acquiring a spouse would be an arranged marriage. He’d probably be the one to plan it, too, seeing it as the most beneficial choice between both families. What type of wife would he pick, anyway? She’d probably be beautiful and quiet, right? Not to mention smart. Felix wouldn’t be able to stand someone ‘incompetent’. Maybe she’d be a bit of a perfectionist like him?

A soft hum passed her lips. It was definitely a thought.

~~~~~~

Felix grit his teeth as the biting chill of the morning seeped into his clothing. It was times like this that he wished those jokes about the incredible inaccuracy of weathermen were true. He hasn’t even been outside for ten minutes, and his fingers were already numb. If Felix had known that his coat and gloves would be this ineffective, he would have taken the second coat that his mother tried to insist he wear earlier.

A shiver ran up his spine as a particularly cold burst of wind whipped past him, and he pulled his coat tighter around his waist. What time was it? Were the girls going to be arriving soon? 

He flicked his wrist upwards to catch sight of his watch. Allegra said that they would be meeting at Aquarium de Paris at 10am. Being 9:58am., they should be arriving any minute, but that didn’t stop him from heaving a deep sigh towards the wait. Note to self: Don’t arrive early to activities that take place outside during the winter.

A nudge to the arm brought Felix’s attention to Claude. He’d also arrived early- probably out of sheer excitement. He’s been blabbering about this trip all week -but the cold didn’t appear to affect him nearly as much.

“Are you nervous?” The brunette asked, causing Felix to shoot him a flat look.

“Why on earth would I be nervous?”

“Oh, no reason..” Claude said, his tone light and teasing. “I just know that Marinette’s going to be here.”

Felix rose a brow. “And?”

Claude smiled knowingly, but Felix couldn’t imagine what the brunette thought he knew this time. 

“You two have gotten pretty close lately.”

“In what way?” There was the physical way or the mental way. Granted, both ways were incorrect, but it was an important distinction.

“Well, you talk to each other all the time.” Claude answered, as though that should be some monumental fact.

Ah. So it’s the mental way.

“That’s usually what happens when two people are in the same friend group.” Felix responded. “They talk.”

“Yeah, but what about the library?” Claude argued. Why did he feel the need to argue? “You two were practically touching noses, and no one else was there besides me.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. “Yesterday? When we were sharing headphones?”

Claude nodded, a Cheshire grin crossing his features. Why did he look triumphant? No one had won anything. “Yep. That’s the one I’m talking about.”

“Do you share headphones differently?”

“Well, no..” Claude half-shrugged. “But you guys are still pretty close, don’t you think?”

Felix paused. The label of being close to Marinette wasn’t a bad one, save for the fact that it was completely untrue. In light of a physical closeness, the only moments that they were close would be times when Marinette fell on top of him or yesterday, when they shared headphones in the library, and the latter scenario is being taken entirely out of context. They don’t walk around holding hands or hugging or sitting shoulder to shoulder next to each other, and in all honesty, Felix wouldn’t want to. He doesn’t enjoy constantly touching people. And as for the mental closeness, Marinette hasn’t told him anything that she hasn’t told anyone else. Felix knows a lot about her, yes, but almost everything he knows has been found out secretly, through silent observations. He would hardly call that “close”.

“No, I don’t think so,” he finally answered, “but I’m still confused as to why that would make me nervous.”

Claude pursed his lips, studying him for a moment, then sighed and crossed his arms. “Oh, nevermind. Either you’re in denial or you’ll figure it out eventually.”

A hint of frustration started to stir in Felix’s mind. Figure out what?

Before he could ask anything else, another voice cut into their conversation. 

“Oh, there you guys are!” 

It was Allan, and when Felix looked up, he noticed that Marinette and Allegra were accompanying him as well. Wonderful. He’d somewhat forgotten about the cold during Claude’s maniac ramblings, but now that his focus had shifted, the weather was hitting him full force again. He needed to escape inside before his feet were frozen to the sidewalk.

Claude perked up and waved to the three as he ran over to them. “Hey guys! What took you so long?”

Felix hobbled over to them as well, catching sight of Marinette’s sheepish smile as she said, “Sorry, Claude. We got here as fast as we could.”

Claude, of course, waved off the apology. “Nah, I’m just kidding. We weren’t waiting that long.”

The brunette scooped Marinette into a hug, coaxing out a laugh from her. She was so bundled up with coats and scarfs and gloves that Claude had to squish her between his arms to hold her, and it vaguely reminded Felix of a marshmallow. 

In weather like this, though, being a marshmallow didn’t sound half bad.

Claude blew out a contented sigh as he nuzzled his face into Marinette’s shoulder. “Man, Mari, you’re so warm! I need to start using you as my personal heater.”

Marinette chuckled and pulled back just enough to hold up a brown, paper bag. “Thanks, but I think it’s just the food Maman sent with me.” 

A gasp flew from Claude, and he immediately set her back on the ground. “Food, you say? As in, croissants food??”

“Yes, Claude.” Marinette giggled. “Croissants food. Maman packed a few extras especially for you.”

Claude literally let out a girlish squeal and made “grabby hands” for the bag. Marinette gladly obliged, letting him dig through it for his favorites.

“Your mom is the absolute best.” Claude said, his voice muffled from the chocolate croissant he bit into. “Please adopt me.”

The group shared a small laugh, but Felix rolled his eyes. Claude was always overdramatic. 

“You better not let Aunt Felicity hear you say that.” Allegra spoke up. She was also bundled to the max- though her coat was light purple -and looked about ten times warmer than Felix felt. “Remember the last time you asked Allan to adopt you?”

Claude scoffed. “That was different! This time I want to be adopted because of Mme Sabine’s cooking, not because of how many games Marinette has.”

“Oh, yeah.” Allan snorted. “That’s completely different.”

“Hey, mom will understand.” Claude insisted, placing his hands on his hips. “She knows she can’t cook anything to save her life. That’s why we have a personal chef.”

“Wait, are you two cousins?” Marinette cut in, confusion flicking across her features.

A slight frown came to Allegra’s lips. “No, why do you ask?”

“You called his mom ‘Aunt Felicity’.”

“Oh!” The blonde’s face lit up with understanding. “Yeah, we do that. Claude’s parents are Aunt Felicity and Uncle Albert, and Allan’s parents are Aunt Meridith and Uncle Theodore.”

Allan nodded in agreement. “I think it started back in middle school when Claude accidentally called M. Chanson ‘Uncle Arthur’ while taking some snacks.”

Allegra snorted. “Oh, yeah, that was definitely the start of it. Dad wouldn’t stop talking about it for days. He thought it was the best.”

Claude sighed, running a hand through his hair with a bashful smile. “That was totally embarrassing, but at least he liked it.”

“Can we all go inside?” Felix interjected. Talking about how they address the adults is nice and all, but his arms and legs have been burning from the cold for the last five minutes. Can’t they continue this conversation when they’re not standing in below-thirty-degree weather?

Claude laughed, throwing Felix a teasing smirk. “Aw, poor Fe. Are you cold?”

Felix scowled at his babying tone. “Of course I’m cold! Frost is slowly growing on our hoods as we speak!”

“Well, I’m not cold.” The brunette replied, swinging his arm around Marinette’s shoulder. “Because I’ve had some of Marinette’s delicious croissants to keep me warm.”

Felix scoffed and tugged his coat tighter around himself. Eating warm croissants certainly didn’t help him.

“They are pretty warm.” Allan said next to him. “You should try one.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Marinette, being the kind person she is, hastily jumped in. “We were planning on going inside, anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but I think Felix needs to taste one.” Allegra remarked. “It’s simply shameful of him to refuse them for this long, in my opinion.”

“I don’t like sweets.” Felix pointed out in annoyance. Just start moving towards the aquarium.

“Well..” Marinette faltered. “Maman did pack a regular croissant and a cheesy croissant..”

He held back a sigh. Though her intentions surely weren’t foul, his only ally had officially condemned him. It’s not that he cared to try one of Marinette’s croissants. After eating supper with Marinette’s parents last week, he had no doubt that anything they made was delicious. No, the problem came with the fact that he was being pushed to eat them. (The group wasn’t quite pushing yet, but he’d learned to pinpoint the signs of oncoming pressure.) If Felix says no, despite how unreasonable it might be, he expects that answers to be respected. The same way he would respect anyone else who told him no about something.

“See, there you go!” Claude smiled. “A nice, warm, non-sweet croissant to make you forget about the January weather.”

“I’d forget it just as easily if we walked inside.” Felix bit back.

“Oh, come on, Felix.” Allegra scolded. “Live a little! You don’t have to eat the whole thing, just one bite!”

“Guys, he really doesn’t have to eat it.” Marinette spoke up again. Felix silently thanked her for her efforts, but her previous comment made any resistance futile now.

“Oh, he’s eating it.” Claude stated. “He needs to know the pure bliss that is Mme Sabine’s croissants.”

“Plus, we’re not going inside until he tries it.” Allegra added.

Allan snorted. “Felix.. I think they want you to try the croissant.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed to a glare. “I’ll walk inside without you.”

“No, you won’t.” Allegra shot back. “You know why you won’t? Because you actually don’t mind trying the croissants. You’re just upset that we told you to try them.”

Felix was thankful for his pockets, because it hid the way his hands clenched into his fists. He absolutely hated when Allegra saw through his intentions. It made him feel transparent, vulnerable. Not to mention embarrassed. Was he that horrible at hiding his emotions or could he simply not match her level of observation? It was probably the former and that ticked him off the most.

“Just give me the dang croissant.” He finally bit off, jutting his hand out to Marinette. If he stared solely at her, he wouldn’t have to see Claude or Allegra’s victorious, blood-boiling grins.

Marinette flinched at the sudden movement and knitted her eyebrows, concerned. “A-Are you sure-”

“Positive.” Felix ground out, hoping she didn’t take it personally. Just give me the food so we can get this over with.

Although wary, Marinette handed over one of the croissants. The specks of yellow around the edges told him it was the cheese-flavored one.

With a deep breath to regain some composure, Felix took a bite of the breaded treat, and..

And it was incredible.

The croissant was piping hot, immediately stealing away the bitter coldness of the air as Claude had claimed. The cheese inside was stringy and practically melted in his mouth, and the softness of the bread allowed you to enjoy every bit of the doughy taste.

It took everything Felix had to keep a neutral expression. If they saw how much he enjoyed the food, they would never let him live it down. He’d be trying everything else under the sun merely because the trio was right one time.

“Well?” Allegra pressed. “How does it taste?”

“.. They are delicious.” He admitted, if only for Marinette’s sake. Downplaying Mme Sabine’s baking skills would only allow him to keep a small bit of his useless pride. He might as well be honest.

A smile slipped onto Marinette’s lips, but Claude’s triumphant laugh took away any satisfaction Felix might have gotten from it.

“I knew you would like them!” The brunette cheered. “Anyway, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here!”

Felix scoffed, throwing a sharp glare at Claude. If it weren’t for how good this croissant was, he would have thrown it at him.

“Yeah, I think they’re open now.” Allan agreed as he checked his watch.

Curious, Felix checked his watch too. 10:10am.

“Oh! Race you guys there!” Claude abruptly announced, before breaking into a sprint. 

Allan chuckled and humored the brunette by going into a jog, and Allegra picked up the pace as well. Felix, however, elected to keep walking as he munched on the croissant. The heat radiating off of it was enough to stall the looming chill around him anyway.

“So..” Marinette began, drawing Felix’s gaze down to her. She’d apparently decided to walk with him instead of running after Claude.

For some reason, that gave Felix a sense of accomplishment.

“Did you really like the croissants?” She asked, her hands fidgeting with the paper bag.

Felix nodded, taking another bite of the croissant as ‘proof’. “Claude wasn’t joking when he said that she made them fluffier than the clouds. I’ll have to buy them for Mother sometime.”

A small smile graced her lips. “I’m glad you like them.” 

Felix offered a small smile in return. “Yes, me too.”

After Agreste’s visit earlier in the week, Marinette had been rather stressed. He noticed her looking over her shoulder often, checking windows before exiting buildings, spacing out during classes.. It was obvious that the encounter had unnerved her. 

He tried to ease her mind by rallying the trio to help. They recognized her sudden anxiety as well, and although Felix couldn’t tell them the exact reason, he hinted at it possibly being the usual nervousness of their first round of tests that was coming up. This caused them to swarm Marinette for study dates and extra lunches, asking questions about different subjects while they walked her to her locker or to her classes. When this strategy failed- which wasn’t often -Felix would also offer to accompany her. 

If she suspected his involvement in the extra attention, she didn’t show it, but she did relax after a few days of the special treatment. Felix took that as a success.

Marinette and Felix caught up with the rest of the group a few seconds later, and they all entered the aquarium together. Another shiver ran over Felix as they walked inside, the warmth of the building washing over him. He would have smiled with relief had it not been for the amount of people pushing against them. Despite the aquarium opening a little less than twenty minutes ago, people of all ages were already piling inside. Adults, teenagers, kids.. Felix supposed this was the price they paid for visiting on a Sunday.

“Everyone stay together!” Allegra instructed over the noise. She grabbed onto Felix’s wrist and Allan’s hand for emphasis. “We don’t want to get separated before we even pay for our tickets.”

Although it irked him for Allegra to be latching onto his wrist, Felix didn’t argue. Past experiences with the trio have made him well aware of how easy it was to get separated in a rushing crowd like this.

They weaved through the giddy schoolgirls and the tired parents until they found a steady line for the ticket both. There, they talked about which attractions to see first and which ones to save for later.

“I think we should just walk through.” Claude said, unsurprisingly. He was never one for order. “It’ll be easier if we just go.”

“But if we don’t have a plan, we’ll never get through it all.” Allegra pointed out. “It doesn’t have to be strict. We just need a vague goal to work towards.”

“We could start with the jellyfish?” Marinette suggested. “Those are always cool.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Allan agreed. “Then we could start working our way around to the shark tank. I say we save it for last since it’s the main reason we came.”

Claude let out a small whine. “Aw, what? Why would we wait till the end to see it if it’s the reason we came?”

“Come on, Claude, you know how the saying goes.” Allegra commented, flicking Claude on the shoulder. “Save the best for last.”

Claude grabbed his shoulder, even though the flick hardly hurt. “I never understood that expression.”

Allegra rolled her eyes with a smile and turned back to the group. “Are we all in agreement then? Start with the jellyfish and move to the sharks?”

“Works for me.” Allan shrugged.

“I don’t have a preference.” Felix stated, not that his opinion would matter much to anyone but Marinette.

With a (somewhat) solid plan, the group purchased their tickets and merged with the flow of the people to get to the main part of the aquarium. The first item on the list, aside from seeing Jellyfish, was to find lockers or another place to put their winter coats and gloves. Felix didn’t fancy the cold, but melting in a packed building also wasn’t preferable.

Allegra still held onto his wrist as they searched, but that didn’t stop the people around them from shoving and prodding to get through first. Felix jostled about, a scowl quickly forming on his lips after getting hit for the fifth time. How can it be so rowdy during the thirty minutes? Goodness knows what’s going to happen when more people start arriving! Why did he even agree to come here?

A gasp cut through the white noise of the crowd, and Claude called out Marinette’s name as she rushed forward. 

She stopped in front of the jellyfish tank they came upon and pressed her gloved hands to the glass, smile bright and eyes sparkling with awe. The jellyfish circled in the water with the current, glowing blue and purple and pink under the aquarium lights. 

A laugh of pure delight escaped Marinette, and she glanced over her shoulder at them. “Do you see how many there are? This is so neat!”

The sheer giddiness of her voice caused another smile to crawl onto Felix’s lips. Ah, yes. He remembered why he quickly relented to the aquarium visit. It was the first time Marinette had personally invited him to something, and he didn’t want to upset her if he fought against the activities as he usually did. After all, what thanks would that be to someone who constantly tries to keep him comfortable and respect his boundaries? 

“Yeah, they look amazing!” Allegra grinned, tugging Felix and Allan forward to follow the ravenette.

Felix followed with a slight glare. He knew that holding onto each other was for the best, but-

Another person slammed into his shoulder, and Felix full on growled at them as they walked off like nothing happened.

-but perhaps the next time he feels the need to repay Marinette’s kindness, he should simply send a ‘thank you’ letter instead.

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything  @magnificentcrapposts  @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @casual-darkness @vixen-uchiha @luxmorningstarr 

[hellotherekenobi]

─── would you say yes?

summary: younglings love to pull pranks and play matchmaker. when you’re called to assist obi-wan in the recent mission, a bit of both ends up taking place.

a/n: this contains mentions of injury.

ONESHOT. ⟶ 3,616 WORDS.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You turn around to face your class, your eyes scanning over the many faces of the younglings sitting cross-legged on the floor, and are expecting their wide eyes of interest to greet you. However, despite that being the expression on most of the faces, confusion littered the rest and even a yawn from one of the boys in the back row, who stretches his arms above his head as if you can’t notice him all the way back there.

You sigh, “Does that make sense?”

Most of the younglings nod at you, although some you can tell aren’t quite genuine. The rest remain still.

“Perhaps if I explain it this way—” you sit down in front of them, cross-legged too— “Imagine drawing something in the sand at a beach. What happens when a wave crashes onto the shore, onto what you just drew?”

“It gets washed away.” One youngling speaks out.

“Yes, exactly. And although the drawing you made fades away, there’s still an indent where you drew in the sand. That’s what it’s like.”

A collective ‘oh’ voices among the younglings and you nod at them, knowing that they now all understand. Although, even you can understand why it would be something difficult to process; memory loss. At their age, it would seem something so bizarre to happen to a person. It was even something bizarre to really teach them, considering that their training is more centered around the Code and their practice of the Force. But every student needs to learn the basics and this is where you come in— you have been assigned to teach the younglings more on life itself so that they are aware of the mundane and, well, the bizarre.

Suddenly a hand raises from the back row and you encourage them to speak, noticing that it is the same boy who had yawned before, “Um, but, if a Jedi loses their memory... can they ever get it back?”

“It depends on the situation. Some people who suffer from amnesia never regain their memory.”

“What?” The boy cries, looking desperately over at the rest of the younglings who sit around him, “You mean like Master Andar?”

What a fragile subject. Jedi Master Andar was one of the very best and he was a close friend of yours too but, sadly, he was critically wounded on a mission and didn’t get the medical attention he needed fast enough; thus, he now suffers from amnesia. It’s hard for him, you know how hard it is for him, you just wish his condition wasn’t so much a public spectacle or conversation topic, which he feels the same way about.

“Yes,” you say softly, “like Master Andar.”

“So it could happen to any Jedi?” One youngling asks.

“Yes—”

“Like Master Yoda?”

“Yes—”

“Like YOU?”

“Alright—” you wave your arms— “I think we’ve centered our focus on this subject long enough. The rest of the lesson will be spent meditating.”

Thank goodness for meditation. It was like nap time, the perfect excuse to quiet the younglings and give yourself a breather. Standing back up, you ask for the blinds to be closed and all of the younglings wiggle their way on the floormat to sit more comfortably, all closing their eyes... except one. You shoot him a raised brow and he gasps, screwing shut his eyes and starting to meditate like you had asked. You can’t help but shake your head with a smile on your face; you love these children. But you love silence just a little bit more and you were ready for just that for the next 20 minutes if it weren’t for a knock on the door.

“Master Kenobi!” Shouts one youngling, and now the others all repeat his name and jump up on their feet.

Well, no more silence. With a shake of your head, you sigh, “What can I help you with, Obi-Wan?”

He smiles, a breath of laughter rolling past his lips, “I’m here by request from the Council. May I speak to you privately?”

“Of course—” you spin back around to the younglings— “continue your meditation.”

They all collectively groan and you raise an eyebrow at their response. Telling them not to complain, they all sit back down on the floor and you walk over to Obi-Wan but turn back around just before you make it out of the door to point a finger at the youngling who had yawned at the start of your lesson and he sits back down after trying, and failing, to sneak out with your back turned.

Once outside, you let out a real sigh, “What’s so important that the Council sent you to my doorstep?”

“Well, I’m not sure you’re quite going to like this.” Obi-Wan smiles awkwardly, fingering his beard, “We have a very good lead on a Separatist working within the Outer Rim and we must act swiftly. However... we’re lacking in numbers.”

“Not me.” You shake your head, “Any of the clones can assist you. They're good soldiers.”

“I know they are but the Council asked for you.”

“Obi-Wan... I don’t do missions anymore. You of all people know that.”

Sadly, he does. It wasn’t as if your reason for becoming a Republic educator was a tight secret but, like Master Andar, it was a fragile subject. In so many words, the last mission you were on was difficult and afterward you had requested leave. The Council offered you the job of teacher as a substitute and you had taken their offer. But you’re not going to take this one.

“Ask someone else. There’s always someone else.”

“I don’t like this anymore than you do—” he takes a step forward— “but I wouldn’t be here unless I knew no one else can take your place.”

How many times are you going to sigh today because of somebody else? It’s not like you have much of a soft spot for the Jedi Council that would have you accepting this so suddenly. You really don’t want to do this.

“I said no.”

Obi-Wan nods, “Would you make an exception if you knew I would be by your side the whole time?”

“Are you trying to flatter me or trick me?” You ask with a smile.

“I could hardly trick someone as intelligent as you, and I don’t think you’d be too easy to persuade with the Force.”

Leaning in, you whisper, “Now are you trying to tease me?”

He copies you, “Would you say yes if I was?”

Before you can reply, a tiny hand tugging the fabric of your robes has you looking down at a youngling. She’s a cute girl, the youngest of your class.

“Can I have some water, please?” She asks, and it melts your heart.

“Of course.” You smile, then look at Obi-Wan, “Master Kenobi and I were finished talking, anyway.”

He gives you a smile that you know is laced with protest as you’re sure he doesn’t want to leave here empty-handed, in a sense.

“Are Jedi allowed to marry?” The young girl suddenly speaks.

You look down at her confusedly, “Why do you ask?”

“The boys... they were talking about how you and Master Kenobi talk like an ‘old married couple.’ Is it true?”

“Oh, my dear—”

“As flattering as that sounds, we still have a Code, dear one.” Obi-Wan talks over you, smiling gently at the girl, “How about I take you to get some water?”

She nods excitedly, reaching her hand out for Obi-Wan to take.

“Consider this a favor to return for you joining the mission.” He whispers beside you.

“My answer is still no.” You whisper back, and watch as he chuckles while he walks down the hallway with the girl’s hand linked in his.

A favor? That was hardly a favor. You’re putting your foot down about this whole thing, no matter what Obi-Wan does or says. And you’re about to put your foot down about certain topics of conversation as you walk back into the room with your eyes pinned down on the youngling boy you know started the ‘rumor’ about your marriage to Obi-Wan.

But just as you’re wrapped around the youngling’s fingers, you’re pretty wrapped around Obi-Wan’s as well. Damn him. So when you approach him the next day, you don’t have to say anything before he’s smiling and crossing his arms at his chest.

“Here to return the favor?” He stirs.

With a clearly obvious disgruntled chuckle, you smile synthetically at him, “Just this once, Obi-Wan.”

He accepts your answer, stepping to the side so that you can walk with him over to the hangar bay. He was going on this mission whether you were or not but it only dawns on you as you reach the jet that he had waited for you in the hall. That too-good Jedi knew you were coming. Once again, damn him.

“I trust you remember how to use this.” He says, handing you a lightsaber.

Taking the weapon from his grasp, you say, “I’m still perfectly equip, don’t worry.”

“With you by my side? I could never.”

You flash him a genuine smile this time but it fades just as fast as the jet rises from the ground. There’s a sudden weight in the pit of your stomach as you’re flying out, where a muffled buzzing nips at your ears. You’re scared. It definitely has been a long time since your last mission, even though you are equip, that wasn’t a lie, but your last mission was the reason you stopped. Before your anxieties can get too loud, Obi-Wan’s hand touches your shoulder and grounds you.

“It will be alright.” He says, “I won’t leave your side for a second. I promise you that.”

“Thank you.” You breathe out.

When the jet lands and you, Obi-Wan, and the Clone troopers aboard all file out, Obi-Wan sticks by your side like glue. He’s barely an inch apart from you, just like he promised. Unfortunately, it was a half promise— where you all are becomes the main point of attack and you’re ambushed. Kriffing hell, it’s a trap! And it looks like it was well thought of in advance, seeing as there are more attackers than you, Obi-Wan, and the Clone troopers combined. Things weren’t looking good, and this is where the promise Obi-Wan made was halved.

You all had to get to cover, otherwise no one was making it out of here alive, so Obi-Wan pushes you ahead of him. You are only separated from him for a moment when something flies over your head and lands on the ground in front of you. It was a grenade, one with prongs that stuck into the ground to prevent it from moving or being moved. Your chances of running from it without injury are slim but you know that those running behind you could dodge it by their distance. They just need a warning.

Spinning around, you raise a hand up and shout, “Obi-Wan!”

His feet skid to a stop from how blood-curdling your voice was, knowing that you were shouting at him to not come any closer, and then the grenade detonates; rattling the ground, knocking Obi-Wan and the Clones off of their feet, and your vision goes black.

For Obi-Wan, he sees your body drop and he swears his heart does the same. With eyes wide, he scrambles up on his feet to race across the distance to reach you. He turns your body over, his skin burning from the heat that radiates off of your robes, now all singed and black. Your eyes are closed, your face covered in blood from the force of hitting the ground, and Obi-Wan can feel the panic rising in his throat, threatening to scream out but it chokes on the smoke left over from the destruction of the grenade.

It’s a mad rush to pick you up off of the floor and run toward cover, cradling you in his arms. A transport jet arrives after far too long a wait in Obi-Wan’s opinion and he with the other Clones climb onboard. Immediately, Obi-Wan lays you down to asses your wounds— he can now see the severity of your injuries, them being a temple wound. You’ve hit your head hard and he’s getting no reaction from you, just a steady breathing, which, in a sense, is a good sign but also not a good sign; if you don’t wake up soon then— no, Obi-Wan doesn’t want to think about it.

As soon as the jet lands back on Coruscant, Obi-Wan is running toward the Medbay with you in his arms and asking for immediate medical attention. A nurse leads him over to a vacant bed and he places you down on it as gently as possible, getting pushed back slightly when another nurse races over to assist. It’s only when Obi-Wan steps back does he realize that his hands are shaking. He barely hears the nurse telling him to leave the room before he even registers that his feet are moving; every step feels heavy, each new one thumping loud but hollow at the same time in his ears.

Why did he leave you? Why did he break his promise? He said he wouldn’t leave your side for a second but he did, and now you’re... well, he doesn’t know if you’re going to be alright. Especially when he returns to the Medbay that same evening, asking for a status report and hearing back that your breathing is steady, yet you still haven’t woken up. So he comes again the next morning, then that same afternoon, and Anakin is waiting for him at the door that evening to place a comforting hand on his master’s shoulder. But your eyes stay closed.

Eventually, on the third day, Obi-Wan gets a call on his comlink that you’re awake and he races over to the Medbay to see all of the younglings you’ve taught already there, some on their tip-toes to peer over the half wall where you’re laying in bed, looking at the nurse who is currently talking to you. Obi-Wan’s chest feels tight from exhaustion— he did just run from one end of the Jedi Temple all the way over to the Medbay— and he takes a deep breath, combing his fingers through his hair and stepping beside the younglings. They all look up at him and smile, some calling his name. He returns the sentiment and then it’s the nurse who calls his name next, gesturing for him to come closer.

He takes one step and the younglings take two, all of them flooding into the room you’re in. Two boys push past and put their hands on the side of the bed, saying, “You’re awake! We’ve missed you!” but the chuckle they expect to hear from you is replaced by silence. You just sit there and stare at them, something acting like a smile faded on the corners of your mouth.

“Are you feeling OK?” One youngling asks.

Before you can nod, another youngling says, “Of course she’s OK! Master Kenobi is here.”

Finally a smile forms on your face when all of the younglings giggle, and one boy decides to push it just a little bit further and say, “He saved your life, didn’t he, Mrs. Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, ready to tell everyone to give you some space to breathe, but your soft voice has him stilling, “Mrs. Kenobi? How did we manage that?”

“What?” He asks.

“Well, we’re Jedi, aren’t we? Yes, we are, I’m sure. Unless we married before the Order? I’m sorry, I— I’m having trouble remembering.”

Obi-Wan.exe has stopped working. He looks over at the nurse, “Her head?”

“It’s a little foggy.” The nurse replies, not wanting to look at the younglings when she says the words.

“Wait,” the same youngling boy speaks, “I was just playing around, I didn’t think that she—” he spins to look at you— “Do you have amnesia!?”

Chaos. Suddenly, the younglings are wailing and crying, becoming more and more clamorous as they ask the nurses a million and one questions, some even asking Obi-Wan. He can see your wide eyes and confused expression through the sea of screaming younglings and calls out for them to lower their voices and, for Maker’s sake, to keep calm.

When they do ease their volume, Obi-Wan says, “I think she just needs some rest. Come now, your training hasn’t stopped. Master Windu is teaching you all today.” and when some argue, he emphases, “We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

The younglings seem frightened for a moment before scrambling about, thanking Obi-Wan for reminding them and saying goodbye to you, who is still sitting there absolutely puzzled, before they all rush out of the Medbay. The young boy who had made the marriage joke, however, reaches over to poke Obi-Wan in the leg, looking up at him with guilty eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” Obi-Wan says, kneeling down to his level.

“But what if she never remembers? Like Master Andar?”

Obi-Wan places a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Time will tell.”

“You’re worried too, aren’t you?” When Obi-Wan doesn’t reply, the boy caringly places his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, just like he had done before, “Trust in the Force.”

With a smile, Obi-Wan pats the boy’s arm and he runs after the rest of the younglings. Your eyes are on him as he stands and he looks over at the nurse, “Could I speak to her for a moment?”

“Take as much time as you need.”

The nurse walks out of the room, leaving you and Obi-Wan alone. And you just keep staring at him. You know him, of course you do, it would take more than a grenade blast to wipe Obi-Wan Kenobi from your mind but... husband?

“I can tell you have questions—” Obi-Wan steps beside the bed— “and I’ll do my best to answer them. First and foremost, um... we’re not... married.”

“Oh,” the word sounds so sad from your lips.

“It was just a practical joke. The youngling boy, he— he does that a lot.”

“Yes, I... I remember him being like that.”

Silence.

“We’re not even... together?”

“Oh, um, well,” why is he so flustered? “No, we’re... not.” Obi-Wan takes a breath to calm himself, “How far back do you remember?”

“Well, I’m not sure.”

Right, of course you don’t know. Stupid question, Obi-Wan!

“The last thing I remember is leaving the jet, where you told me you would stay by my side.”

Great. Just throw that at him. Obi-Wan sighs, sitting down on the space of the bed where your legs aren’t, “Yes, that. I, um, I didn’t exactly keep my promise. I told you to go on ahead of me and that’s when...”

“The grenade went off.” You finish for him. He nods. His face is all clenched; eyebrows furrowed, lips in a tight line. He’s upset. Reaching over, you place your hand on top of his, “You’re not to blame for this, Obi-Wan. You understand that?”

“But you got hurt, after I promised you that everything would be alright.”

“Everything is alright. I’m still breathing. I just... have a bit of thinking to do.”

“Well, I can ease your worries, you haven’t forgotten much.”

“Yes, the nurse told me I’ve been out for a few days.”

“Three.” Obi-Wan says. You raise an eyebrow at him and he blushes, “I... I came by whenever I could to make sure that you were alright.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, “and those?”

Looking over his shoulder to see the flowers on the table adjacent to the bed, you see Obi-Wan turn even redder, “Ah, yes, well, you see, I thought they would be nice to wake up to if I wasn’t already here...”

“And somehow they’re my favorite kind?” Yep. He’s red. “And, if I’m remembering correctly, I’ve never told you my favorite flowers before...”

When you find yourself beside a silent Jedi, you squeeze his hand, “Obi-Wan—”

“I should be going,” he talks over you, standing on his feet, “I’m glad you’re alright. Call me if you need anything.”

Obi-Wan turns on his heel but before he even reaches the doorway his comlink beeps, and he looks down at it to see that you’re the one that called him. Turning around with a faded smile on his face, he sees you; comlink in hand.

“I’m not alright at all.” You start but the pause you take is agonizingly long to Obi-Wan, “I would have liked being your wife.”

His heart is racing faster than he believes it ever has before, even in the heat of battle. He’s stumbling on sentences in his head, tripping over risky words and broken promises. There’s a vein of hope pounding against his heart and he wants to steady it, calm it, and tell it to slow down before it gets over its head but it’s too late; he wants to tell you what he shouldn’t.

The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth turns up, “And I, your husband, but we still have a Code to follow.”

“Of course.” You say, “It still would have been nice.”

You both stay in that moment, pretending. Maybe if things were different, maybe if you both weren’t so scared, then maybe it could be possible. For now, it’s just a dream— one you both sleep on that night and rethink the next morning, and just like he had waited for you in the hall for the mission so many days earlier, Obi-Wan is already at your door with that glowing smile, a promise between his fingertips, and saying, “To return the favor of saving your life?”

tags: @marvelinsanity @immoral-rose @inukako @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @alwayssleepingforreal @bloodybunnyuwu @nagitokomaeda-onthe-nintendo-ds @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @princessxkenobi @mythandmagik @i-cant-hear-you16 @holdurhuxbby

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 8)

Chapter summary: When Aaron gets stuck at work late and Jess has to go help out her dad, Aaron has nobody else to turn to but you to watch Jack. The only problem? Up until now, Aaron has been keeping his home life completely separate from you, and you have no clue how this will effect your already precarious relationship with Aaron.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This was not part of the original plan at all for this story, but I couldn’t get it out of my head.

masterlist || read on ao3

In between What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine Love is so confusing, there's no peace of mind If I fear I'm losing you it's just no good You teasing like you do - Blondie, “Heart of Glass”

~~~~~~~ 

You were on your couch doing homework when you got the call from Aaron, and you frowned in confusion when you saw his name flash across your cell phone screen. Aaron never called you while he was working, and you especially didn’t expect a call from him today. He was doing a custodial interview with an inmate sentenced to death somewhere in Virginia, and you figured prison didn’t have the greatest cell service.

 “Hey there, jailbird,” you greeted. “Are you inviting me to the dance?”

“Very cute, Elvis,” Aaron joked, but it was half hearted. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I need to ask you for a favor, and I want you to know that I wouldn’t be asking you if I had any other options.”

“Mhm, I love being the last choice,” you mused sarcastically. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Aaron.”

  Aaron elected to ignore your last comment. “The prison just went on lockdown, so I’m going to be stuck here for at least a few more hours,” he explained, and there was an unnatural nervousness to his voice. “And Jessica has to go deal with an emergency with her father.”

You frowned to yourself, unsure of where Aaron was going with his explanation, and even more unsure of who this Jessica person was. A pang of jealousy shot through you, but you quickly bottled that feeling. 

 Aaron took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Would you be willing to watch Jack for a few hours? I know it’s not ideal, but it would just be for a little while until either I get out of here or somebody else from the BAU gets off of work. I would even be willing to compensate you for your time.”

Oh.

OH.

Silence crackled through the phone as you took in his request, and you could practically feel Aaron’s nervousness. It shouldn’t have been as big of a deal as it was. It had been two months since you’ve been with Aaron, you slept over at his house enough, and you worked in the same building as him. It was pretty inevitable that of course you were going to meet Jack at some point, but you always figured it would be with Aaron there to mediate. You had pictured that it would probably be accidental, maybe Jack would wake up early and would catch you sneaking out of Aaron’s house. Or you would be invited to one of Rossi’s famous dinners and the kids would be there and then there would be no questions asked. You definitely didn’t expect to babysit.

“Yeah, of course, I can watch him,” you said finally, and you heard Aaron let out a sigh of relief. “And you don’t have to pay me… or worry about finding a replacement. He can hang out with me for as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Aaron told you, still sounding completely drained. “I will send your address to Jessica, and she will drop Jack off at your place in about half an hour. I really owe you, Y/N. I have to go talk to the warden now, but please call me if you need anything, okay? Bye.” Before you could even answer, Aaron hung up.

You took a deep breath as dread settled in the pit of your stomach. How hard would babysitting be, really? You’ve babysat before - Aly had a little brother who basically became your little brother. However, a weird part of you was nervous that Jack wouldn’t like you, which was ridiculous. It didn’t matter whether or not Jack liked you.

Right?

Deciding that you couldn’t just sit there and panic, you chose to use the time to tidy up your apartment, just to make it extra presentable. The organized mess that was your homework space was quickly arranged so that all of your notebooks and papers were in a neat pile. You took down the half empty tequila bottle from forever ago that was sitting on the top of your fridge and shoved it into a cabinet somewhere. The throw blanket that you had been wrapped up in was refolded and placed on the arm of your couch. You wanted to at least give the illusion that you were prepared to babysit Aaron’s son, and not completely freaking out inside.

Right on schedule, knocking came from your door, and you rushed to open it. You were greeted by a blonde woman, probably a few years younger than Aaron, who you assumed to be Jessica. Next to her was the elusive Jack, with his blonde hair and missing front tooth. You had seen a few photos of Jack in passing, hanging up around Aaron’s house and whatnot, but you never got a good look at the photos.

“Y/N?” Jessica asked cautiously, and you nodded slowly. “Hi, I’m Jessica, Jack’s aunt.”

Jack’s aunt. A million emotions hit you at once. Oh god, she was Haley’s sister. Your stomach started to feel queasy, and it took you a second to realize that it was guilt, although you weren’t quite sure what you felt guilty about. 

Logically, you knew Aaron had a life outside of you. Hell, you had slowly become part of that outside life now that you were friends with his coworkers, but you really tried to avoid thinking about Aaron’s home life. When he wasn’t with you, it was out of sight, out of mind. He was his own individual entity.

Now you were face-to-face with just how insignificant you were in the grand scheme of Aaron’s life. The fact was that you were probably no more than a side storyline in his life, a character created just for Aaron’s own development. He had a life and a family that you barely knew about. There was evidence of his home life everywhere - the bins of toys at his house, drawings on his fridge, family photos in matching frames in the hallway, even a small jewelry box on his dresser that looked like it had been collecting dust for a few years - but you had gotten good at averting your eyes.

“Hi, yes, that’s me,” you replied, shaking Jessica’s hand. Then you bent down so you were closer to Jack’s height. “Hey dude, I’m Y/N,” you introduced, giving him a small wave.

Jessica took the backpack she was carrying and helped Jack slip it onto his shoulders. “Thank you again for doing this on such short notice. Aaron should have sent over my phone number if you need anything, but Jack’s a good kid. He just has some homework that he needs to get done,” she explained.

“It’s no problem,” you told her, giving her your best reassuring smile. “He’s in good hands here.”

Jessica smiled gratefully at you before kneeling down to say goodbye to Jack. You stood in the doorway awkwardly as you watched the interaction curiously. It was as normal as it could get, Jessica telling Jack to behave and that she loves him, but it also fascinated you, like you were watching a movie and all of the characters had popped out of the screen.

Jack gave his aunt a hug before she left, and the two of you stepped into your apartment. That same nervousness came back in full force. What kind of games did he like to play? You didn’t have any toys for him. What if you couldn’t help him with his homework? Do kids his age learn fractions yet, because you did not remember fractions. What if-

“Woah!” came Jack’s voice, breaking you out of your spiraling. “Can I please sit on the bean bag chair?”

Well, Jack certainly wasn’t nervous, which offered you more relief than you thought it would. “Yeah, of course, you can. It’s my favorite place to do my homework.” 

Jack flopped onto the bean bag chair, his tiny frame almost completely consumed by it. You could see the confusion growing on Jack’s face. “You have to do homework?” Jack asked.

“Yup,” you told him. “And I know you do, too, so we can do homework together.”

Jack jutted out his bottom lip in a pout. “Will I have to still do homework when I’m old?”

At that, you let out a genuine laugh, even if you were a little shocked. The kid had personality, you had to admit. “I’m not that old,” you halfheartedly protested, “And maybe. It depends on what you want to be when you grow up.”

“I want to be a superhero,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “Like Spiderman.”

You nodded, the movement playfully exaggerated. “Oh, well Spiderman is really smart. I’m sure he does a lot of homework, so you better get to work. Let me know if you need any help, okay?” You chuckled again at Jack’s increased pout, obviously disappointed in the fact that even superheroes had to focus on school. 

Jack reached into his backpack and pulled out a pencil and a brightly colored folder with papers sticking out of it every which way. He started on his worksheets, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, and it hit you just how much he looked like Aaron. The blonde hair threw you off, but you had seen that exact look on Aaron’s face many times, eyebrows together and lips pursed ever so slightly. Like father, like son. You had to resist the urge to audibly coo at the sight. You were only human, after all.

You tore your eyes away from the boy and glanced over at your laptop, which was sitting open on your coffee table, the cursor blinking back at you teasingly, reminding you that you also had to get to work. You had essays to write and practice contracts to draft up. The two of you did your work in comfortable silence for a while, Jack occasionally asking you to help him read the instructions of his worksheet.

“Done!” Jack exclaimed proudly after a while, holding his packet of papers high in the air.

Just in time, too, because if you had to do any more criminal tax litigation work, you were going to pull out your hair from boredom. There was only so much corporate fraud you could read about in one sitting.

“With all of your homework?” you clarified, and he nodded so fast that he looked like a full-on bobblehead. “Good job, dude!”

“Did you finish your homework so that we can play?” he asked you.

“Yup, I’m all done,” you lied. Your paper wasn’t due for another week, anyway. “So what do you want to play?”

Jack tapped his finger on his chin as he thought about it. You were aware that you didn’t have much in the way of kid’s toys, but you had stuff to color or paint or play board games, and you were confident enough in your imagination to come up with a game if it came down to that. Jack looked around and suddenly his eyes got wide and he pointed to your Switch.

“Do you have Mario Kart?” he asked hopefully. “Can we play that?”

“That sounds like fun, let’s do that,” you told him, making your way to set up the console. “I’ll even let you be player one.”

  Jack was practically bouncing up and down in his seat now. “I’m really good at this game. I can even beat my uncle Dave!”

You laughed as the two of you picked your characters. Jack chose Yoshi, a solid choice, and you went with Toad. “You can beat your Uncle Dave? Wow, that’s impressive. I have to warn you, though, I’m also very good at this game. Do you think you can beat me?” you teased.

“Definitely,” Jack challenged, and the game began.

The two of you played for a little while, and Jack’s mind was blown when you told him about the shortcuts on each track. After about three cups and you telling him where every shortcut you knew was, the 7-year-old was starting to get antsy just sitting, so you decided to switch gears.

You brought out some leftover paints and canvases you had from a paint night with your friends, and you and Jack laid on the floor and did some painting, although you were not prepared for how messy it would get. Somehow, Jack ended up with his fingertips covered in blue paint, and you had a streak of green on your cheek from where you mindlessly brushed hair from out of your face. As you placed the artwork to the side to dry, Jack had already decided on the next game - the floor is lava.

Before you even realized it, three hours had passed and it was time to make dinner. Jack chose pizza, which you luckily already had in your freezer. The game was still going, but you and Jack agreed that the kitchen was the only safe place without lava, considering there were too many dangerous things in that vicinity.

Babysitting Jack was easier than you expected, and much more fun. Even in his more playful moments, Aaron was always a little bit guarded and on edge, so you had a hard time imagining what his child would be like. A weird part of you almost imagined a mini adult in a child-sized suit and a briefcase full of fruit snacks and crackers, as ridiculous as it sounded. But Jack was just like any other 7-year-old - goofy, a little loud, and excited about the world.

You wondered if Aaron was like that as a kid, or if that part of Jack’s personality came from his mom. Maybe Jack was a mini version of his mom. Now that you had gotten the tiniest taste of Aaron’s home life, you found yourself craving to know more, to see Aaron in dad-mode.

Selfishly, you also wanted Aaron to watch you interact with Jack, just to see his reaction. It was a gamble and you realized it. Best case scenario, Aaron would be able to breathe a little bit easier. There wouldn’t be that half second of awkward silence between the two of you every time he mentioned Jack’s name. That stupid guilt you felt so often would dissipate because, hey, you met Jack and now that was out of the way.

On the other hand, everything could come crashing down. Aaron could walk in, see you with Jack, and immediately regret his decision and regret you. It would solidify in both of your minds that you were no more than somebody he could call and fuck when he felt himself on the verge of breaking down. Any self-imposed importance you had placed on yourself in Aaron’s life, no matter how small it was (and it was pretty small), would be a lie. He had a shorter temper now than before, and maybe this would be the exact thing that would set him off.

You didn’t want that, of course, but you really did want to know what would happen, to see where you stood with him. Call it morbid curiosity.

You were pulling the pizza out of the oven when you heard the knock on the door. “Coming!” you called.

“Don’t touch the lava!” Jack reminded you from his spot on the coffee table, just as you were about to leave the kitchen. Your method of movement to and from the kitchen was the rolling chair from your desk and a broom so that you could push yourself where you needed to go, which you had to justify to Jack as being a lava boat.

You “rowed” yourself over the door and looked in the peephole. Aaron was on the other side, nervously rubbing his thumb over the rest of his fingers. It took some work, but you were able to open the door without falling off the chair.

“Hey, I know you,” you greeted Aaron, but your smile fell when you took in his appearance. His whole body was tensed up, like a rubberband about to snap. He didn’t have his tie or blazer on, and the cuffs of his shirt were undone. 

“Dad!” Jack shouted, waving excitedly.

“Hi, buddy.” Aaron smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was scanning the room, studying the scene in front of him. Aaron’s expression slowly shifted to confusion as Jack bounded across your furniture to get closer to his dad. “Jack, what are you doing on the table?” Aaron’s eyes shifted to where you were, noticing for the first time that you were kneeling on a rolling chair, holding onto the broom like a trident. “And why do you two have paint on you?”

“The floor is lava,” you explained nonchalantly.

“And you’re going to get burned!” Jack pointed out.

You chuckled and swiveled your chair so that you could get a better look at Jack. “How about we give your dad a minute to find a spot, okay dude?” You turned back to Aaron, lowering your voice. “The kitchen is a safe zone, if you don’t want to have to crawl around on furniture.”

Aaron frowned, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain. “No, I should take Jack home anyways,” he finally said. “You’ve helped enough today and I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you insisted. “Besides, we just made a pizza that I’m not going to be able to eat by myself. Come in, have dinner. You look like you need it.”

He really did. You were certain that he hadn’t eaten anything the entire time he was at the jail. He looked exhausted, too, and it was taking every bit of his energy to keep his usual stoic and stony composure.

Aaron wanted to argue, but instead, let out a resigned sigh. “Thank you. You, uh, said that the kitchen was a safe zone?”

“Mhm, and you might want to hurry because Jack is in it to win. Already tried to sabotage my chair boat.”

While Aaron’s face remained emotionless, his gaze softened as he stepped into your apartment. “Jack, did you have fun with Y/N?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

Jack hopped from the coffee table to the couch and onto a trail of pillows he had made. “Yeah! She taught me how to cheat in Mario Kart!” 

You rolled your way back to the kitchen, chuckling sheepishly. “Shortcuts aren’t cheating, it’s playing smart,” you defended. 

Jack just giggled and continued to animatedly tell Aaron about his day at school as you each started to dig into dinner. Well, Jack and you dug into the pizza, while Aaron took all off two bites and pushed his plate to the side. You had originally thought that it was the interview that caused Aaron’s tenseness, but you realized with a start that Aaron was completely focused on you. He was watching you curiously, like you had subtly changed your appearance and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was different.

He was just intrigued by your interaction with Jack as you had been with Jack and Jessica’s interactions. You had thought that he was going to make a snap judgment and decide if he was ever going to want to see you again the second he saw you with Jack, but he was taking his time. He was profiling you.

“Hey Jack,” you interjected once he finished eating. “Your dad and I are going to do dishes, but I need you to do me a big favor. I can’t win Bowser’s Castle no matter how hard I try. Do you think you could do that race for me while we clean up?”

Aaron looked at you in confusion, but you kept your eyes on Jack, who was all too happy to have an excuse to get out of cleaning and go back to playing video games. He practically bounced back into the living room, leaving you and Aaron alone.

“Do you want something to drink?” you offered. Aaron was watching your every movement, studying you carefully. “I have tea, coffee… Irish coffee, if it’s that kind of night.” You added the last part as an afterthought, only partially joking.

The corner of Aaron’s mouth twitched upwards so subtly that if you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have even noticed. “No thank you,” he answered formally.

You mindlessly traced circles on the tabletop with your finger, keeping your eyes downcast. You knew you couldn’t just outright ask what was on his mind, he’d never answer truthfully. “Do I want to know what that creep did to be put on death row?” you asked, keeping your voice as indifferent as possible..

Aaron shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell you even if you did,” he admitted and the two of you fell into silence again. It was the answer you had pretty much come to expect from him.

Despite the fact that, as a lawyer, you’d have to hear about all these awful things and see the evidence, Aaron tried to shield you from his work. He didn’t talk about cases, didn’t glamorize the work he did the way some younger agents would. In all the time you’ve known him, you could count the number of criminals you knew he took down on your fingers, and some of those were only because you learned about them in class. 

That was fine. You didn’t want Aaron to have to bring that to your bed, not when you were supposed to be his distraction from all that mess. And what a fun distraction you were.

Aaron looked at his watch, effectively ending the conversation. “We should go, it’s getting late. Thank you for watching Jack. And for dinner.”

You paused, debating your next move. “It’s no problem,” you said sincerely. “And if you need anything else from me… I’ll be awake for a while.” You let your offer hang in the air for a few moments, watching as Aaron seemed to be weighing options in his head, you just didn’t know what those options were.

You were just about to rescind your offer when he opened his mouth to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want any compensation?”

You waved off his offer. “I’m positive.”

Aaron shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Then let me buy you dinner sometime this week. It’s the least I can do.”

You paused, trying to keep your expression as neutral as possible. Aaron had never made an offer like this before, never took steps towards anything that could push this into something even remotely considered a relationship. It was easy to explain the constant sex. You could even justify the lingering morning-afters or the nights spent hunched over your textbooks while Aaron wordlessly refilled your coffee cup without you having to even ask by claiming that it all happened organically. It’s not like the two of you planned to stay up and debate the lost history of the term “beyond a reasonable doubt”. It just sort of happened, and who were you to turn down free coffee?

Anything more would complicate the carefully curated system, and neither of you had the time or energy for complicated.

Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to walk away and leave while you were ahead, you couldn’t help the soft “Yeah, I’d really like that,” that slipped past your lips.

You could have sworn Aaron smiled at your answer, but he didn’t say anything more.

The two of you walked back to your living room in silence. “Alright buddy,” Aaron called, ruffling Jack’s hair. “It’s time for us to head home. Say thank you to Y/N.”

Jack pouted as he exited the game. “Can Y/N watch me again soon? Please? It was fun!”

“We’ll have to see, she might be busy,” Aaron mused, looking at you so that he could gauge your reaction. It was enough of an answer to not crush Jack’s hopes, but vague enough that it gave you room to deny the offer. He was letting you choose how much you wanted to be around Jack, if you wanted to be around him at all.

You grinned down at Jack and held out your hand for a high five, which he took as an invitation to try and slap your hand as hard as he could. How could you say no to him? “Of course I can watch you again. I’ll even have Legos next time.”

For the first time that night, Aaron gave you a real smile, one that you could actually see. It was small, but it was genuine. “Thank you again. Goodnight, Y/N,” he told you and Jack echoed the sentiment, waving at you as they walked out the door. 

[husbandograveyard]

Chapter I - The Seed

Chapter Summary: Sometimes love happens spontaneously. Sometimes it needs some time to grow. Yours has been growing for a while now. 

Chapter warnings: mentions of child neglect (vaguely), slight manga spoilers (if you squint) 

Word count: 1.7k 

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Love is very much like a flower. The seed can be planted very early on, and may need some time to grow. And without love, sunlight and patience, a flower may never bloom. The seed of your love was planted when you were only a child. 

You weren’t really sure when exactly you saw him for the first time, but you knew he captured your attention right away. You were walking to the store, your very first ‘grown up’ chore. Your mom would give you a little piece of paper with the groceries on it, and let you go get it at the convenience store right next to the apartment where you were living. She’d call the store beforehand to let them know you were coming, and never really worried because nothing could happen within that very short distance. And she was right, nothing ever really happened, and it became your favorite chore. Not necessarily because of the chore itself, but because of the little boy that you would sometimes meet on your way. 

He was quiet, usually standing in the hallway, hanging around the same apartment. Your young brain figured out he lived there, but you weren’t sure why he wasn’t always inside his house. You never saw his parents. He captured your attention, because he seemed… off a little. You couldn’t put your finger on it, not at that age, not with you sheltered you had been so far. You knew of heroes and villains but you didn’t know of all the actual evils in the world. You did not know what he was going through. 

But you did know that he looked nice, at least in your innocent-minded eyes. And he looked special, with a sharp gaze that seemed directed nowhere in particular and the beautiful wings poking up from behind his back. You wondered if they were soft. 

So one day you asked. Well, it had started with you saying ‘Hi’ every time you saw him in the hallway. And eventually, you’d get a ‘Hi’ back every once in a while. You told him your name, he told you his. Sometimes you would say something about what he was wearing, although usually his clothes were pretty plain and not always as pretty or even clean. His wings however, those always looked nice, bright red and sometimes even a little fluffy, that’s when they looked to be at their softest.

Most of the times when you shouted ‘I like your wings’, you didn’t get much of a reply, usually he just briefly redirected his stare at you before looking away again. But you were still young, full of hope and full of resilience that nowadays you wish you still had as much of, and you kept repeating it until you heard him mutter a soft ‘thanks’ in reply. It wasn’t too long before you started walking toward him for the shortest of conversations, you knew that you couldn’t stay away too long or your mom would definitely call the grocery store. And eventually, you asked him to touch his wings. He would always refuse, and you would never give up. 

One day he said yes, and it’s the day you remember most vividly. You were almost racing to the store by now whenever you saw that he was out, just so you could talk to him, always keeping an eye on the kiddie wristwatch your mom had given you. “When the big hand points upwards completely, you have to be home or I’ll come looking for you”, she’d say. You had gotten better at keeping an eye on it. You went through the usual ritual, saying hi, getting a greeting back. He seemed to be a little happier to see you lately though, smiling a little whenever he saw you approaching. 

“Your wings look fluffy today, can I pet them?” 

“Okay, but be careful” 

You gasped, and your eyes grew wide with excitement. “Really?”

He just nodded in response, turning a little sideways so you could easily reach out and pet the feathers. They were not as soft as you had hoped, not like the plushies surrounding you in bed every night, but they were soft nonetheless. An interesting kind of soft, like only a feather could have. You were absolutely mesmerized and he seemed to be happy that you were happy. 

“Next time I will show you my hero” 

You smiled as you ran upstairs with the groceries, just in time to not worry your mom. You were super giddy the next time she asked you to get groceries, but your friend was nowhere to be seen. That in itself wasn’t that unusual, there were multiple times when you didn’t see him, but you were quite disappointed, especially since you felt you really were making friends with him now. 

You blinked in confusion, but there was no time for you to ask for an explanation, as you noticed the longer hand of your clock almost pointing to the top of your watch.

“Okay! Promise?”

“Promise!” 

The next time you went, he wasn’t there either. Nor was he the next time, or the time after that. You were slowly getting a little worried and sad. But as it goes so often in a little child’s mind, there were only so many things you could worry about and you nearly forgot about the boy with the wings.

Until you saw him on TV. 

It was years later, you were training at U.A. making it into the hero course, developing your quirk to do good for this world. Part of your training was also keeping an eye out for all the heroes and their ranks. No matter how much you wanted this world to be fair and easy, there’s only so much you can do by simply being a good hero. The rankings were a whole other thing that came as a nasty side effect of wanting to make it in a world where just being good and strong wasn’t enough to be a hero. You had to stand out in some way. 

News of a newcomer not from U.A. spread so fast, especially since he was rising up in the rankings at an unseen pace, especially for his age, making him the youngest hero so high up. He was incredibly popular: campaign ads, interviews, magazines… Not surprisingly so, he was not only a talented hero, he was very handsome to boot, with hoards of fans already collecting merch as if their lives depended on it.

To the whole world, he was known as pro hero number three, only behind Endeavor and the one and only All Might, Wing Hero Hawks. But to you, he was the little boy from the hallway that once was ever present in your mind, one of your first friends that you lost before the friendship could even be properly cultivated. And now that his image was hard to avoid, his presence was back in your thoughts, more pertinacious than before. 

You were drawn to him the same way many of his fans were, but besides awe and admiration, there was another feeling present whenever you heard his name or saw another picture appear on the billboards you passed on your way to school. It was small still, this feeling, and unidentifiable, at least for now. All you knew was that there was an additional motivational fire burning within you now. You were certain you wanted to intern under him, you wanted some way to be able to talk to him. Just a few moments, to see if he would remember. Just a few moments, to maybe be able to put a finger on what you were feeling, maybe it was a desire for closure. You realized these were all superficial and stupid reasons, but as long as it got you training to intern at the number three’s agency, there was really nothing lost. 

Realistically speaking, you knew the chances were small he’d take you on. There weren’t even that many sidekicks at his agency, and you were pretty sure he’d need someone to keep up with him, which was nearly impossible seeing as he maxed out in almost all possible fields. He was the number three for a reason after all. 

You had a tactic though. Half of the plan being very obvious: train until you couldn’t anymore. Get high grades, develop your quirk, max out your physical strength, study evacuation techniques, be an overall great student. You had to make sure your potential was spotted by many heroes on occasions such as the sports festival. You had to make sure your teachers noticed you. 

The other half of your plan was working on getting his interest. Wear his merch around whenever there’s a U.A. moment broadcast that didn’t require you to wear your uniform, learn all there is to learn about him and his agency (a surprisingly easy task, as there was very little known about him actually). And then finally: work on advertising yourself. You wrote multiple letters to his agency, none of them demanding or desperate in tone, but continuously offering yourself as a valuable candidate for internships and training days, even when you would get no replies at all.

It took you until your last year at UA to finally get some sort of an answer. By that time, you had already sent so many letters, that at this point, you weren’t even expecting anything anymore, but it was more of a habit. A promise to yourself that you would try, at least until you had graduated and found another agency to work at. So when professor Aizawa pulled you aside at the start of your year to tell you that all your internships and training days were already secured in Hawks’ agency if you’d agree on it, you over-enthusiastically said yes about three hundred times. Aizawa passed on the information you needed, and you thanked him profusely before heading to your next class, the map of information nearly burning up in your hand. 

One step closer to the boy in the hallway. One step closer to your hero dream. No matter the outcome, you could only win.

Tag list: @pinkhatlizzy​ @franko-pop-3000​ @silenceofthecookies​

[behindheremeraldeyes]

damirae week 2021 friday, may 7th: nightmares & mythology

title: unholy balance

summary: "He knows the stories about her. The prophecies that carry her fate are no stranger to his troubled heart, to the point where he can recite them word by word, threat by threat.” - Greek AU-ish Ao3

Years of coming and going through those silent woods, and yet, his eyes have never once seen the sun kiss her skin. Every day and every night— every winter and every summer— she’s trapped inside that dome, caged and exposed like the living statue they need her to be. He knows the stories about her. The prophecies that carry her fate are no stranger to his troubled heart, to the point where he can recite them word by word, threat by threat.

Decades before either of them were even born, the oracles foresaw that a girl born during the blood moon would be the balance between doom and salvation. She alone would withhold the power to keep evil under control and protect the world from eminent destruction. A genuine gift sent by the gods so that men would be able to prosper without ever knowing things such as hatred, anger, poverty or sickness.

When the said girl was finally born, then, all the people gathered to celebrate the beginning of a new era, and before she even had the chance to become a child, she was already turned into a blessing. They named her Raven as to symbolize wisdom and longevity. She was a lovely girl and even if their days of playing around in the streets didn’t last long; he has always cherished them with all of his heart.

Everyone who had the chance to meet her could see how pure her heart was, and if anything, they believed she could use that heart of hers to save the world. She had enough goodness in her for that, and as long as she kept on smiling, they knew things would eventually work out. However, even if most people believed she was meant only to bestow grace upon them, the oracles knew better than to ignore the most crucial part of the prophecy. The old texts describe her as a balance, after all, and the slightest mistake can make it hang the wrong way.

As ordered by the village’s council, then, she was to be kept away from everything and everyone who could distract her from her celestial mission, and since no one objected— no one with the power to, at least— they were quick to build her a place where she could focus on her prayers. With her childish features and her amethyst eyes; she was thrown into her own private sanctuary, where she could be adored, but never disturbed.

Seen, but never loved. Not truly.

Ever since she was imprisoned, her voice was never heard, her skin never touched. People can approach her dome in order to steal a glance and leave her some offerings for the sake of their crops, but that’s as far as they will go. Eventually, they all walk away with smiles on their faces, and they don’t come back until the season changes or they need her for something else. Some of them never really return.

That has been her life for at least 16 years now. Their life, actually, for he has been observing her never-changing routine ever since he was selected to be one of her guardians. And though the Wayne heir has always prided himself in the way he keeps his emotions at bay, something about this— about her— makes his blood boil in pure annoyance.

Perhaps it’s because they used to play together or even it’s just his way to express his discontentment with the place he was raised in, but Damian hates seeing her like that. Trapped in her own blessing, she was deprived of every choice in her life, simply because she was born on that stupid night. They’ve filled the folks’ heads with a curse that would befall upon them if she were to stray from her path, and the worst part—

The worst part is that she believes those words. She really believes she has a duty to fulfill, a life to sacrifice in the name of a greater good.

Bullshit, he thinks.

That girl was meant to be special. Meant for greater things and wider horizons, however, they’ve given her the responsibility to hold the world’s weight in her tiny hands. No one dares to move a muscle to help her, and if anything, they count on her not to drop it because, if she does—well— may the gods have mercy on their pathetic souls.

It’s not fair. She deserves so much more than just this, but apparently, he’s the only one who thinks like that and who has actually tried to do something to help her.

One night, years before he was even assigned to his current position, Damian snuck into her pristine garden. As the skillful warrior he was trained to be, it was quite easy for him to pass through the guards and reach her dome. He knocked on the glassed wall, and after a few seconds, she came into view. She had grown considerably since the last time they had met, her face thinner and more delicate. Her beauty was breathtaking and her amethyst eyes mesmerizing. Until today, he doesn’t believe he has ever seen a girl as graceful as her.

The ivory skin contrasted with her dark hair, and there was a fleeting essence in her features that made his chest grow tighter. A sad and ephemeral beauty, hidden from the rest of the world. He couldn’t find it in himself to look away, and for a moment, Damian understood why people would come to see her.

Looking at her brought him peace. However, her sadness broke his heart.

‘Come with me. I can get you out of here and you can be free’, he remembers telling her, promising to keep her safe. He had meant every single word he told her that day. Every promise regarding a better future— every new sky he wanted to show her— but it was all meaningless. Raven gave him no answer, instead choosing to offer him an apologetical smile that spoke volumes.

She couldn’t go with him. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t be that selfish. Not when the world depended on her.

And so, he left as if he had never been there to begin with. Although he hated that village, Damian forced himself to stay, and when he was old enough, he took upon himself the job to keep her safe. He became her guardian, vowing to stay by her side, waiting for the day when she would grow tired of all that hypocrisy.

Waiting for the day when the balance would finally hang to the wrong side.

He has kept on visiting her at least twice a week, their eyes exchanging silent promises that might never be fulfilled. They don’t talk, no, but he can’t bring himself not to go. It’s stronger than him. Seeing her makes him feel at ease, and deep inside, he hopes one day she will make up her mind and ask him to take her out of there. He wants to be there when she makes that decision. And until that day comes, silently, he shall wait.

Today, though, he stands on his spot like every other day, clad in his green and gold armor. His emerald eyes are set on her small prison, and there isn’t one day when he doesn’t wish for it to fall apart. For it’s spring, the garden looks exceptionally beautiful, with the prettiest flowers of the land blooming just for her. He likes to think nature does that on purpose, provoking her with its true colors and teasing her to leave the comfort of her imprisonment.

The other guards are far from him and even further from her shrine. Soon, their shift will end and others will come so they can continue their full-time surveillance. It’s another day like so many others, with a sky just as blue.

However… something feels different.

Perhaps it’s the chilly breeze of the upcoming autumn, or even the unusual silence enveloping the area— Damian can’t quite pinpoint. Something is uncharacteristically unnatural, and he knows it’s got something to do with her. His eyes drift towards her dome, his lips pressed in a thin line. He can feel the weight of his sword hanging from his waist, and all of his senses are oddly alarmed.

The world beneath his feet is alive, he can feel it in his core. The change is coming, and perhaps the balance is tilting.

His eyes blink, and suddenly, nothing is what it was. The ground is shaking, birds are flying away from their nests, and dark clouds are gathering above their heads. Damian sees the other guards looking around, confused, and once everything seems to settle, a horrified scream tears reality apart. It’s her, he knows. She’s the one who’s screaming and before he can even think through, his feet are desperately taking him towards her dome.

His heart is beating faster now, and he knows it’s not because of the run. Something’s wrong with her and he needs to do something before it’s too late. The clouds are growing darker, lightnings roaring inside, but his feet can’t move any faster— god knows they’re trying to. However, all of his efforts prove themselves useless when an energy burst sends him and all the other guards flying backwards. His back hit the ground with a loud thud, all the air from his lungs escaping through his lips.

What on earth did just happen?

His green eyes are wide now as everything he has judged to be a lie is happening right in front of him. The wind is blowing violently, his soul shaking in sudden fear, and a crimson vortex emerges from the celling of her dome, ripping it all apart. This isn’t good. This isn’t normal. It’s too powerful and too maleficent to be fought back with his bare hands. Right now, he knows his priority is to take her and run towards a safer place. Damian needs to find her. He needs to save her.

While all the other guards are running away from the epicenter of the chaos, he’s the only one running towards it. He doesn’t allow his own heart time to be scared as he’s already rushing inside, his eyes scanning the place in search of her. Broken glass is scattered across the floor, and for her cage is quite small, it doesn’t take him long to find her.

Raven is kneeled down on the floor, her purple robe covering her small body and shards threatening to pierce through the skin of her legs. Her hands are covering her ears and a painful expression is taking over her demeanor. “Stop! Make it stop!” She mumbles, shaking her head and causing her hood to fall back. Her dark locks are falling forward now, brushing her tear-stained cheeks.

She’s completely different from the girl he first met all of those years ago. She’s scared— powerless, even— and all of that celestial composure of hers is nowhere to be found. Raven has lost control over whatever it was she has been keeping inside for all of these years, and even if he knows they’re due to suffer the consequences of her outburst, he couldn’t care less about that.

Right now, he only cares about her.

“Raven!” Her name rushes out of his tongue in an exasperated tone, and soon, he’s kneeling down in front of her. His hands are quick to touch her trembling shoulders, making her head shoot up in pure shock. Amethyst eyes are now locked with his emerald ones, and even if they’re still filled with horror, now he can see traces of relief in her irises. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Damian, I-I…” She starts, stumbling upon her own words. Her voice is a bit hoarse from the lack of practice, but when she says his name, it’s still as melodic as he remembered it to be. “I’ve set it free, Damian. I couldn’t control it and now it’s free!”

“What!? What is free, Raven? Tell me.” He asks, his eyes frantically scanning her body as he searches for any bruise or anything that might suggest she’s hurt. At first glance, thankfully, he finds nothing.

She looks straight at him, and Damian can tell she’s debating whether or not to tell him the whole thing. Eventually, then, she closes her eyes, more tears streaming down her face and her knuckles turning white as she tightens her grip around herself. Her slender fingers reach for her head, tracing the opaque red crystal that decorates her forehead.

“My father. He’s been trapped inside this crystal ever since I was born, and I had the job to make sure he never escaped. But now…” The girl bites her trembling lips, and she takes one last breath before continuing. “But now he’s free and he will use all of his demonic powers to spread evil and misfortune all over the land. It’s just like the prophecy said, and now I’ve ruined everything.”

“Hey, don’t say that! You were trying your best.“

“It was never about trying, Damian! I had a duty to fulfill, and I failed! All of those years trapped inside that stupid dome for nothing! People are going to die and it’s all my fault!”

His heart is breaking as she speaks, despair lacing every word that leaves her mouth. His brows furrow in condolence, as he can only watch as she cries like a small child in front of him. She feels responsible for all of this, of course she does. After so many years of being told she was the person who had to keep all the evil inside, it’s only natural that she would eventually believe all of those things. Guilt is now getting the best of her, and he’s not doing anything about it. She’s hurt and lost, and all he can do is watch.

Great fucking job, he thinks, anger running through his veins. Now that the balance has finally weighted to the wrong side— now that she’s finally free like he wanted to— he can’t find it in himself to help her. What’s he supposed to do? Damian knows better than to lie to her. He knows she won’t be convinced by his words if he simply says it was not her fault. He cannot tell her everything is going to work out, no. For all he knows, things might never get back to the way they used to be.

Life might never be simple again. He won’t go back to his job as her guard, and she won’t ever go back to that dome of hers as their protector.

Things are going to change.

And perhaps that’s not something that bad, is it?

Now that she has released the evil that was trapped inside of her crystal, she’s finally free to roam the world and do as she pleases. Raven is free to touch the trees and smell the flowers as much as she wants. No more dome to keep her trapped, and finally, she will be able to feel the warmth of the sun touching her skin.

Maybe he’s not taking things as seriously as he should be, but this new life doesn’t seem so bad. Any life where there’s a slight chance for her to be happy is a life worth fighting for.

And that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He will fight for her. For her freedom and for her chance to make her own choices. He will fight because, deep inside, he knows there’s still—

“Hope.” He murmurs, almost as a whisper, but it’s loud enough for her to hear. Once more, she’s looking at him with hopeful eyes, and his heart is beating faster than before.

“What?” She asks, confused, the tears stopping for a moment.

“Hope, Raven.” He starts, his calloused hands now reaching for hers. He caresses her skin with his thumb, a tender expression now spread across his face. “As long as you’re still alive, there’s still hope. Your father might have escaped, sure, but you’re the one who has kept him sealed for all of this time. You’ve done it once, I’m sure you can do it again.”

Her ribcage is moving up and down, her eyes looking at their connected hands. His toned skin against her ivory one makes his chest feel slightly warmer, and he’s glad to see that her shoulders are no longer trembling. “How do you know it? How can you be so sure of that, Damian?”

“I’m not.” He starts, his grip on her hand growing a little stronger. “But I have hope, Raven. As long as you’re here, with me, I have hope.”

Her eyes are looking at him with enough intensity to make his heart skip a beat. He knows she’s looking for a breach in his confidence, but when she finds none, he can feel her hand relaxing under his touch. Her eyes are now brimming with new tears, and in an impulse, Raven throws herself over him, her small hands tugging on his armor. She presses her face against his chest and his arms are fast to welcome her in a warm embrace.

She must have missed this, he thinks. Human contact, that is.

A person to hold her and who believes her, even if she doesn’t. A person to bring hope into her despairing world.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, bringing her closer while she cries her heart out. “You’ll be okay.”

Raven has been deprived of so many things for so long, and he wonders if she even remembers when it was the last time she has felt another person’s touch. He’s hugging her so tightly right now, as if she might disappear if he’s not careful enough. Her tears are soaking his cloth, and perhaps that’s the proof he needs to be sure that she’s not going anywhere. Not anymore.

He holds her like that until her exhausted body gives up and she falls asleep. Her breathing pattern is slower now, and he doesn’t dare move in fear of waking her up. Tomorrow, when she’s awake, they can think about what to do next and how to solve their problems. Tomorrow, things will be different.

After so long, at last, a new dawn awaits for both of them.

fin.

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a/n: So, for this prompt, I’ve tried to play around a little with Pandora’s myth and I’m happy with how it’s turned out (maybe I could’ve done something different, but more than anything, I wanted to keep it “short”). There are a lot of nice things involving greek mythology, and the stories have always fascinated me. I hope you guys have enjoyed this one, and please, tell me your opinion! It means a lot.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Sweet, Spice and Hot Water Is Always Nice

Summary- 7.6k Mike (renamed from Me-Playing It Cool) x You. Mike is struggling to get a story line down for his script, and you were sent home from work. You just LOVE when Aunt Flo comes to visit (insert sarcasm), and Mike has a suggestion to make you feel better. Warnings- Period Sex (it isnt overly graphic though) Male receiving Oral, Fingering, One mention of blood. Thigh Riding cause its a mood. That is about it. A mild argument. Oh swear or two, cause ya know me. And I know, another holiday fic with him, but Holidays are my favorite, and I just love these two. 

A/N- Fall themed Moodboard added to this was made by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​. Thank you so much, I loved it, and I hope you like the fluffiness it caused. 

“Okay Brian, you want this rom com to deliver.” Mike cracked his knuckles and let his fingers lower over the keys, starting to type out the main character's opening scene, picturing the actress Brian described as standing just behind him, sitting at your kitchen table your grandmother gave you, picking at plates of food. 

Ally, I could have told you it wasn't going to work out with

Rick two months ago. - Daisy sighs. 

Why? - Ally gives a clueless look at her sister across the table. 

You love meat, you hate cyclists. - Daisy says flippant. 

His hand came up to rub at his face, trying to think ahead as the two blondes faded away from the table, and he was sitting there pondering at the theme of the script he was supposed to be writing. Single woman worried about the amount of men she has been with, and was set on finding the ONE. The man who made all her dreams come true. Of course the man was supposed to be a playboy across the hall. 

“Fucking fantastic.” Mike groaned, finding the whole theme of the story kind of stupid. “What woman would worry about that?” 

Setting back to trying to type, he heard the door unlock, your footsteps snapping against the tile of the hallway floor leading into the kitchen. Pushing back his chair, he twisted it to face the kitchen with a confused look on his face. You tossed your purse and keys on the counter, and bracing a hand against the counter, you leaned down to yank off your heels to fall to the flat of your feet with a sigh. Using the side of your foot, you pushed them aside so no one would trip over them. “I know- I know… I'm home early Mike. I promise to be quiet.” 

Mike just shook his head to disregard what you had said. “I don't care that you’re home so early, I'm just trying to figure out why you're home early?” 

You stand there for a moment staring at him, then you give a sniffle that was so out of character, it worried him. Holding out his hands to you, he made a come motion. “Come on baby, now you're starting to scare me a bit.” Which entices you to make your way to him, and stand between his legs while his hands slide up and down the back of your thighs. “You left for work just a couple hours ago?” 

Your hands come to smooth over his head, sighing at how good the softness of his slightly grown out buzz cut felt, and you could see the worry lines depending between his eyebrows, always deeper on the left side, his eyes having lost their usual mirth and teasing when they looked at you. “I haven't felt good all morning, and the boss sent me home. The boss caught me puking in my trashcan and wouldnt take no for an answer.”

Mike let his fingers sink in lightly while pulling you into his lap, your hands sliding to lock around his neck. “Well why were you puking? This morning you seemed fine.” His brows furrowed as a worried thought niggled his mind, and blossomed into a full panicked look as it really settled in. “Wait, your not-?” his eyes widened in his panic, and you scoffed at him. 

“No so you don't have to worry Mike. Although it's great to see you panic if we should have been.” You snapped a bit although you knew you would have matched that panic as well, and he softened a bit, smoothing his hands along your lower back. 

“Sorry baby, you said puking and my mind went away with it.” Apologizing, he tilted his head a bit. “So, You going to put me out of my misery and tell me? Or do I have to keep making dumb ass assumptions?” 

You were still a bit irritated with his earlier remark, but were you really mad at Mike? Or were you just feeling like shit and everything was irritating you? You glanced back at his genuinely worried face, you softened to him for how worried he was. “I started to get cramps today, and they just ache badly today.” you sniffled a bit again, and Mike pulled you in closer for a hug, and you settled in against his chest. “And I feel terrible for coming into your space when you're working.” You said softly, and Mike shrugged, the movement making you pull back. 

“I could care less, you're not feeling good and this is home first, office second. Besides, I just started it. Not like I have any story yet to get down. Just an idea.” He turned his chair with you in his lap, and moved his finger over the keyboard to wake the laptop back up. You gave a slight chuckle seeing he literally had two whole lines.

“What have you been doing all morning?” You snicker a bit and he picks up Brians notes laying right next to them. 

“I have been trying to think of how to get this shit into something decent. Listen to this- Ally is a woman who has many ex-boyfriends who turned out to be losers. Now she believes that she can't find a good guy. But when she runs into one of her exes who is now a 'Prince Charming', she decides to look up all of her exes to see if any of them have changed for the better. When she has trouble locating them, she asks her neighbor Colin, who sleeps with a different woman every night and sneaks out the morning after to avoid talking to them, to help her.” He tossed it back down to the table. “Like anyone cares how many people someone slept with.”

You wrinkled your nose, and you knew you shouldn't say anything. Because you honestly had to agree with him, but that dark little voice in the back of your mind that seemed to always be there when you weren't feeling good poked at you. “Well some people, it does matter Mike.” You push to stand, and go around the counter to search out your midol from your purse. Grabbing the bag, you started to paw through the contents while Mike twisted his office chair to look at you. You could see this slight furrow in his brow as he went over what you had said. 

“Did it matter to you, when we talked about it ourselves Y/N? Cause you were pretty chill.” he asked, and you could see from the corner of your eye as you snatched your bottle that he was leaning forward in his chair, the curious look on his face was seriously wondering if you did or not. In that moment you just wanted to snap at him, he should know that you didn't nor ever would care who was a part of his past. Since it was just the past. 

“If I had cared, Mike, would I have asked you for your number on that first date? Of course I didn't give two shits about who you dated or fooled around with.” You retorted, shaking out a couple pills and popping them dry before screwing the cap back on and ditching the bottle back in your bag. Going to the fridge, you sought out water, which all were left were bottles half gone. Groaning, you dropped your head. “You haven't been to the store yet Mike?” you snapped as you shut the door, taking one of the bottles anyways. You weren't drinking tap water, that was for damn sure. 

“I was going to go this afternoon before you get home.” He brushed off your irritation in favor of your earlier comment, more keen to go back to the conversation you two were having before. “Did someone like say something about me before you even met up with me? Because we certainly didn't talk about our dating history for a while.” 

You leaned against the counter for a moment, rubbing at your face for a moment. “Why do you put everything off to the last minute Mike? You always do this, and then I’m left either having to nag you, beg you, and just end up doing it myself.” You grumbled, and ignored his question. “Can you go now please? So the water will be chilled by tonight.” you left him at his computer, going to crash on the couch and grab the remote. But Mike wasn't far behind, following you to the couch. 

“I will later, but I’m curious if someone said something to you? Like a warning?” He flopped down on the other end, his arm slinging along the back and looking at you intently. 

You flicked through stations and rolled your eyes. ‘Fuck Mike, it was so long ago, drop it. It doesn't matter who told me what before we even met. We're together, aren't we? I make my own decisions about someone.” 

“But someone did say something.” He pushed you once more, and you clench your hand around the remote hearing him keep on going. 

“Fucking hell Mike, you really wanna know. It's not exactly like you were dating anyone during that time. Mallory told me all about how you two would fool around and that maybe I needed un-fucking-winding. So she set us up. But you already knew that.” You toss the remote at him, and push off the couch. “Then I really liked you, so we made it work. But right this second, if you follow me to the bedroom, I will kick your ass out to the couch for the rest of the week.” you snapped, and left him there to brood, going into the bedroom with a sharp slam of the door. 

Mike winced when he heard the door slam, feeling bad now that he pushed for something that really didn't matter. That first hook up was two years ago, and you two had been together ever since. It just nagged at him in a way that he was shocked at, thinking that someone might have said “hey he's a player, be careful.” Maybe you were right, a small part of him might have cared? Not so much that he or you slept with a few people, but that anyone would actually care. 

Mike waited a few moments for things to cool down, he knew he shouldnt have pushed on such a stupid matter, cause it honestly didnt matter to him what anyone might have said. It was a stupid fight, and Mike wanted to make it up to you, apologize for upsetting you when you were already feeling so awful. Listening, he could hear you in the bedroom, opening drawers and snapping them shut then it went quiet. Pushing up from the couch, he approached the bedroom, and knocked on the door to ease it open. You were laying on the bed, a heating pad plugged in where your phone usually was. You had it resting on your stomach, and had your other arm slung over your face to block out the light. 

“I mean it Mike, you come in here looking to argue, I will scratch those blue eyes of yours out and leave you a blind man.” You threatened him, which he tried not to chuckle at, but a tiny one burst out while he went to stretch on the bed next to you, sliding his hands under your shirt to rub your back. 

“Im sorry Y/N, I was being kind of an ass.” He said, and you snorted a bit in agreement. Mike could feel the knots in your back loosen a little as you relaxed into his hand, and he pulled in closer to you. “Is it really bad this time?” he looked at the time, it had only been twenty minutes since you had taken your painkillers, still hadn't had a proper chance to kick in for you yet. 

You stretched a bit and pressed yourself back hard enough for him to know you wanted more pressure in his touch, which he did, digging in his fingers. You sighed a bit into your pillow. “It's messing me up this time Mike, not going to lie.” You twisted your head to glance over your shoulder, and your look softened a bit when you saw how concerned he did look. So you twisted to lay on your back and look up at him. “I'm sorry to Mike, I came in looking for a fight because of how I was feeling. Your script will be good, and people who do care probably have boring sex lives.” You joked a bit while lifting a hand to let the back of your fingers brush against the rasp of his beard. It made you tingle to feel it, and his hand slipped along your waist and over your belly where the heating pad didn't cover.  

“You know there are other ways to help you.” Mike started, looming over you slightly and you wrinkled your nose, knowing what he was talking about. It always made you feel a little guilty though, like it was something he had to do, not that he wanted to do. All in your head, you knew, but the thought still had manifested there after that time he ended up being late on a deadline cause of a weekend of him taking care of you. 

You shrugged a bit and shook your head. “You don't have to do anything, you should probably get back to your script. Brian’s going to want to see it in a few days.” You brushed it off, but Mike wasn't about to be deterred, because he knew how much better you felt afterwards, and he enjoyed making you feel good immensely. 

“I know I don't have to “do anything”, but how about I want to?” He pushed up off the bed, and reached down to grasp your hands and ease you up into a sitting position, making you groan and pull off the heating pad, being sure to click it off. Mike gave you what he hoped would be a promising grin to get you in the mood. “Fuck that script, I rather have some dirty sex… in the bed?” He questioned, and you gripped his hands tighter, pulling yourself up. 

“You're not going to leave me in peace to wither and die are you?” You scoffed as you side stepped him to grab a couple towels, and draped them over your arm. “Shower, mess be minimal, and the hot water will help my back.” Mike came up behind and ran his hands along your sides, while kissing on your neck, making you sigh a bit in appreciation. That rasp of beard followed by soft velvet lips always did something, even now your toes were curling up the more he did it. 

Getting in the bathroom, he reached and grabbed the towels from you, tossing them on the bathroom counter. “Absolutely not going to let you wither and die, you know how much work it would be to find another awesome girlfriend like you?” He cupped your face, dragging you into a kiss while you grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off when he pulled away, he mimicked you and pulled your top off over your head and discarding them wherever they happened to land. 

“Ooh I like being awesome. How awesome am I Mike?” You wiggled your brows at him, and reached behind you to unclasp your bra, which Mike eagerly drew off you when you got it unclasped and cupped your breasts, massage them lightly, thinking about what to say. Thumbs circled around your sensitive nipples and you took a slight inhale that Mike happened to hear, causing him to do it a little harder the next time around. “You're always so sensitive right now, I absolutely love it.” Mike admitted while massaging his palms into the globes, you ended up arching into his touch and dropped your hands to his pants to start working open his belt. 

“You didn't answer me, pain in the ass.” You tugged the belt open and popped open the button, sure to watch him as you pressed your hands under the boxer band and wrapped fingers around his cock. You felt him twitch in your hand, a hitch in his breath as his normally bright blue eyes darkened. “Am I distracting you a little too much?” 

He took a deep breath as you sunk to the floor, Mike's hand falling to the bathroom counter, his knuckles turning white while he gripped the counter at the anticipation. “Here I thought I was supposed to make you feel better?” Seeing you kneeling, giving him that sultry fuck look from under your lashes while darts of your tongue teased your lips. A tug on his jeans dragged them down further so you could pull his cock out, giving measured firm strokes and breaking eye contact to look at his erection instead, sliding a thumb around his head and dragging your thumb back to your lips to suck your fingertip.

“You are making me feel better. Well actually, hand me a towel?” you arched up to bring your face closer to him, your free hand held out while Mike handed you a towel in which you put under your knees to get comfy. “See you helped me.” Giving a teasing wink, you twist your head to give him a trailing lick of your tongue along the underside of his cock and spit to lube him in your hands. A kiss of your lips to the tip made him shudder com watching the sinfully sweet act, and then you spread your lips to lower your mouth on him and suck with a moan. Already he was cursing above you under his breath as he did his best to not look away. 

“Fuck baby” Mike grunted, and you widened your mouth to draw him in further, fluttering your tongue around him while rubbing your hands against the front of his thighs till you circled fingers around the base, pumping him where your mouth couldnt take him yet. You relished the taste and heaviness on your tongue, lips drawing him in further to leave a wet trail on his cock when you bobbed your head faster. Heavy breaths flared your nostrils while you hummed your satisfaction till he hit the back of your throat. His hips rocked to meet your bobbing head until you gagged around his girth. “Just a bit more baby.” Mike grunted as his hands went to cup your face, fingers digging in your cheeks. Mike's head tipped back, and your gaze rolled upwards to see his adam's apple bobbing up and down, the muscles in his torso tighten, and where your hands grasped his thighs to hold on while he face-fucked you, kept flexing. “Fuck… FUCK…” He pulled you off him, his hips stuttering to a stop and his cock weeped with desire to shoot his load. The thick white dribble looked too tempting to you. Your tongue tip curled out and you darted back in close to give a kitten lick to the tip, cleaning the drool and precum off and maybe just to tease him slightly, knowing how close he was. 

“God your a fucking little brat.” He hissed at your antics, stepping away and leaning down to grasp your upper arms, and bring you back up while kicking off his pants and boxers fast as he could, making you giggle at how strained he sounded. 

“Get out of those clothes.” He instructed as he reached in the shower to start the water and stumbled in. You were tugging your pants off, and getting ready as you heard him swear in the shower. “Fucking water.” You open the curtain to see him drenched already, trying to wiggle the knobs to the proper temperature. 

“Well why did you already get in Mike?” you ask, putting your hand in the water to make sure it wasn't too cold, when he reached out to wrap an arm around your waist and drag you in with him making you squeal as the water was still adjusting to temperature. Mike backed you up against the showers wall, his hands rubbing your hips while kissing your lips with a hunger that made your head spin, and your hands grasped the back of his neck and head to hold on. 

Pulling away from your mouth, and working his lips against your neck, you tilted your head back into the stream to feel the warmth wash over your sore body twitch a groan. The hot water had already started to fog up the small space. “I was hoping the cold water would cool me off, I want…” Lap of his tongue moved over your jawline. “... to be…” his hand swept down your stomach and cupped your mound between your clenched thighs to stroke your folds. “... inside you when I cum.”

You pulled away a bit to look at him, biting at your lip which caused his eyes to drop down too, wanting to pull at it because of the way you teased yourself . But your words brought him back to you. “It really doesn't bother you Mike? That I'm on my period?” That bit of self doubt starting to come back to the front of your mind, bringing along guilt that maybe he didn’t enjoy this like you did.

He gave a roll of his eyes and nipped at your lips, sliding his tongue over that bottom lip before pulling it from your teasing teeth, laying his own mark on you to cover your bite from before. “We’ve done this many times Baby. Only boys would care about such a thing, good thing I’m not a boy.” He surged to claim all your senses, his fingers spreading your folds to start touching you in a way that would drive you crazy. 

You kareened when you felt his fingers start to tease you, his hand planting on the wall as his upper body leaned in closer, eyes staring into yours while rubbing from your clit to your entrance, watching as your breathing picked up and your eyes turned into a needing glaze. “Ahh, just like that, huh baby. Fuck I love how sensitive you get during this time.” He wasn't wrong, everything felt amplified, his fingers felt thicker as he started to pump one into you, your core was hotter, your arousal seeping down your thigh to mix with the hot water. 

It wasn't long till your thighs were spreading further for him, and you rocked slightly to meet his fingers plunging back into you, his strokes making you clench tightly around him, as well as grasp his biceps to keep yourself from losing your balance. Mike loved watching your jaw drop as you were fluttering around his thick fingers, sobbing out when Mike twisted his palm slightly to grind the heel of his hand against your clit. “Mike! Oh too much.” you tried pushing him away while moving your hips faster, but he was too solid and was driven to have you come all on his palm. Mike nudged his nose against your jaw to tip your head back, licking the running water  streaming down your neck with a low timbre voice making his demands. “Come on baby, this is just the first one.” 

Just the first one. Fuck

You dug in your fingers while you rode out your orgasm that crashed over you, Mike slowing his pumps down so you could come down from your high, tilting his head to give you an open mouthed kiss. And he started again to bring you up, his fingers sliding in your sensitive pussy, his thumb sweeping around your clit slowly. “Mike,” you whined softly against his mouth, your forehead pressed against his. His fingers knew just where to touch you. He was able to go much deeper than your own fingers could ever reach. Mike thrummed you again, nudging his nose against yours to have you focus on him. “You're going to come for me once more Pretty Girl, I love how you flood my hand, riding my fingers with that greedy pussy of yours.” His tongue licked over your lips, and greedily you sucked on his tongue rocking harder to meet his fingers faster. Your second orgasm is coming fast, as sensitive as you were. “Ahhh good girl, I'm going to add another cause you're taking me so well.” Mike bit at your lip teasing as your eyes widened, a third finger stretched you, and he smirked, still holding your gaze. “Squeezing so tight baby, you should make yourself cum now Babe.” 

You started falling apart once more and Mike let his chest press against yours and your arms locked around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder as he feathered kisses up and down your neck. “Did I tell you yet I love you?” His erection pressed against your stomach, still hard and demanding as when your mouth had been wrapped around it and you rubbed yourself against it, purring in his ear. “Show me Mike.” Your toes curled as remains of your orgasm raced up your spine, any pain you had been in before was replaced with fluttering clenching muscles, and languid pleasure seeping in your system. 

Mike's hands fell to the back of your thighs, and he slipped your legs up to swing around his waist, and position yourself to take him. “I'm glad you finally accepted this suggestion.” Mike let go of your thighs once you were holding onto him, and he pressed his cock through your folds, feeling your wet heat welcoming to accept him. You nodded in a rush, blinking out the water pelting over you. 

“Yes, Fuck Mike you feel so good, its driving me insane.” You tried pressing yourself on him, and when he pressed in against your sensitive channel, clenching around him as he worked himself into your pussy. “Yes, oh yes.” stiffening against him when he thrusted to bury himself in, rutting against you to make you cry out as he started slow, letting you appreciate the hard drag through you. It wasn’t long though when Mike started to pound himself into you, and your bouncing breasts moved in his face. He freed a hand to massage them, almost on the verge of a blissed pain how his teeth sucked in the curve, and the lash of his tongue dragging over your pebbled flesh till he could pull on it. Stretch the nerves to quiver and mess with your rational thought, till all you could focus on his mouth, hot and wetter then even the steam of water pouring from above, the feeling of Mike's cock driving in harder and harder, sure that you felt him almost kiss your womb, fighting the urge to cum already. Your hands scrambled for purchase against his back, which clenched under your nails digging in, flexing and tightening with each pounding thrust trying to lay claim to your orgasm. 

“I can feel you, you want to, your body is trying to.” He moaned into your breasts his face was buried against, his scruff rough between your cleavage. You back bounced off the tile of the bathroom wall at these words, you wanted to deny him, keep feeling him driving back the pain, and keeping you on the edge of pleasure. But it was all so overwhelming, and you caved, cumming again to flood his cock with your arousal, clenching around him. “God your so fucking tight around me. Trying to get me to cum in you.” Mike grunted, and you just squeezed him more, wanting it, so badly to feel filled with him. 

“Course I want it, don't you dare pull out.” You cried, flexing around him again as his balls slapped against you and you tighten your legs around him to keep him with you. His grunts became more feral, his tongue marking your skin while he chased water droplets like a man dying of thirst, and you saw nothing but sparks filled your vision while he groaned into your ear that he too was close. You whined as you gave one last demanding squeeze, your own demand that he fill you, which he did. Happily shooting himself to fill you, spreading himself deeper and both of you ended blissed around each other

You lean into him, taking deep breaths against his shoulder while his arm slings around your waist. “Okay, I got you babes. We really do need to get a mat for this tub though. Almost slipped a few times.” You giggle into his neck before straightening, unlocking your legs from around his waist to lower to a stand, careful cause it was slippery. Reaching down, you flick the water back to the facet, and Mike cranks both the knobs off, the last of the water rushing down the drain. Pulling back the curtain, Mike stepped out, and grabbed the last towel on the counter and handed it to you, which after you two stepped out you started rubbing your body down to dry. 

He grasped the one you had used for your knees earlier, rubbing it over his head, and whisking across his body, but he was done quick and had yanked on his boxers. You immediately reached down and grabbed his tee from earlier, slipping it on and went to the counter to brush out your hair before it dried in a mess. Knowing you would come out when you were ready, Mike went and stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard and flicked on the tv, flipping channels until you came out all dressed for a day in bed. Moving around the bed, you tumbled into your side of the mattress. 

You curl up against Mike's side, and he hands the remote over so his arm can circle around your shoulders and let his fingertips brush along the soft part of your upper arm. “Feeling any better Babes?” He tilted his head to look down at you while you focused on the tv, and you hummed, tilting up to put a thank you on his lips. “Much, all relaxed and sated, thank you Handsome.” Mike couldn't deny that made his chest swell a bit, proud and pleased his girl was now feeling better. He dropped a kiss to the top of your head as you finally stopped at the beginning of Con Air. 

“Nicholas Cage?” Mike mused as he looked up, and you tugged the blankets over the two of you while you twisted, leaning your back against Mike's chest, and your head on his shoulder. 

“Damn straight Mike, Cage, Malkovich, and Buscemi? Doesn't get better.” your love of 90’s movies didn't bypass Mike, so he wasn't surprised. It didn't take long though till you had passed out, within the first 15 minutes of it, and Mike stayed for a while before it was apparent you were really passed out. He eased away, and shifted you enough so you were comfy against the pillows. Going to put his clothes back on, he looked in the shower and went under the sink looking for a quick spray to wipe down the shower with. Running a cloth over the wall, and using the shower head, he rinsed away any bloody traces that might have been left behind. Mike didn't want you happening across it, and having to deal with it yourself. Once he was satisfied, he took care of everything and flicked the lights off to go back in the room, seeing you still sound asleep and relaxed.

Mike went over to your side of the bed to grab the heating pad you discarded earlier and put it on low. Laying it against your lower back as you rolled to hug a pillow against your chest. Snapping the blankets up around you as he started to leave the room, he turned the tv down a few notches, and eased the door almost to a shut. 

Mike knew he probably should work on his script, you were right earlier that Brian would be wanting to see it soon, but he bypassed his computer. Grabbing his wallet and phone, he stuffed them in his back pocket. At the kitchen counter he scribbled a quick note, should you wake up. He didn't want to set your phone off and wake you up by sending a message to it. ~went to go pick up that water, message if you need anything baby. XO Mike.~ 

Leaving the apartment, when he hit the street his hands found their way into his pockets, and he whistled happily. Sure he might have gotten jack shit done for work so far, but he spent his morning loving on his girl, and if that isn't life goals, damned if Mike knew what would actually be better. Reaching the local shop the two of you used near the apartment. The door’s bell jingled when he pushed it open, the clerk lifting her head to see who was coming in and gave a grin seeing him. “Hey Mike, wondering if I was seeing you today.” 

Mike grabbed a hand basket, winking at the clerk. “Of course MissThompson, my day wouldn't be complete without you.” he flirted with the older woman, making her chuckle a bit as he went down the first aisle. He grabbed a few things you two typically needed, a loaf of that specialty bread for toast that you liked, a tin of bbq pringles he liked snacking on when watching a game, a bar of chocolate you swore up and down you required during this time, he was also sure to grab a couple gallons of water to bring home. Wandering back towards the counter, Miss Thompson cleared her newspaper off the counter for him to set his stuff down. 

“Did you see the fall stuff Mike? I think Y/N would really like them.” She pointed at a small display table nearby, which was covered with a few pumpkin trinkets, some homemade baked goods, and candles. Mike wandered over, and started picking through the items. “She would like them wouldn't she, and she's been having a rough day.” He mused outloud and Miss Thompson tutted in sympathy. Glancing over the stuff, he picked up a few different candle holders, a box of autumn tinted macaroons, and some pumpkin pastries that he knew would remind you of home. Bringing it up to the counter, Miss Thompson gave an approving smile and was quick to ring it up for Mike. “I think she’s gonna appreciate it all.” 

“She does love fall, always going on about home this time of year.” Mike stated as he took out his card and gave it a swipe, his stuff was bagged, and he juggled the bag in one arm and the water in the other. “Probably see you tomorrow.” 

“You know I will be here.” Miss Thompson offered as Mike worked the door open, and headed home. Once he arrived back at the apartment, he was quiet while slipping off his sneakers, and dropping off his arm loads at the kitchen counter where his note went untouched. Scooping it up and crumpling to shoot into the basket, he paused long enough to make sure he made it, giving a fist pump when it landed inside. Quietly he went down the hall, and pushed the door open a bit to see you were still sleeping. You looked soft in your sleep, relaxed and peaceful. You had rolled once more in your sleep, your arm holding the heating pad to your stomach. 

Leaving you in peace, he went back out to take care of what he purchased, sure to put one of the jugs of water in the fridge. Then he spread the ornaments around the coffee table, and set the desserts out on a tray, leaving them on the coffee table as well. Thinking about what else he could do to surprise you, he left the apartment once more to go down to the storage unit in the basement of the apartment complex, just knowing you had to have some of your treasured halloween decorations, stored away in a bright orange bin with a jack o'lantern drawn on the front. Once he saw the tote and pulled it down, he popped it open to double check, and sure enough you had it packed with lights, halloween trinkets, more candle holders, and foam pumpkins. Securing the lid, he brought it up to the apartment, and set it down. 

Unpopping the top, he started to pull out the lights, and untangle them. Looking around at just where to hang them, already he was picturing how you had it set up last year, and grinned to himself, knowing exactly how he wanted it to look for you. 

Several hours later, you stretched out with a yawn, turning to grab your phone and see it was later in the afternoon. Pushing up to a sit and rubbing at your eyes as you push off the bed, You headed to use the bathroom. Once finished, You came out several moments later, now sporting shorts and a warm sweater just looking for the coziness of the soft material. You pulled your hands into the sleeves, grasping the cuffs in your fingertips to play with the soft material while you left the bedroom. Before you even entered the kitchen, you could hear the clickity clack of Mike's keys on his laptop, and you smiled to yourself. From the rate the keys were clicking, he must have figured out a storyline. 

Stepping into the kitchen, you stalled as your eyes roamed over the orange and purple lit up apartment, Mike had hung up your halloween lights around the tv, and living room, along the counter and bookshelves were orange pumpkins glowing, one corner by the door was a scarecrow and your foam pumpkins, like it was the front porch you didn't have yet. On the TV was paused on a Harry Potter movie, and you took a step further into the room, hovering your hand over one of the candle light holders, enjoying the heat for a second before moving on. “Mike, this is… wow, I didn't think you really cared if I decorated or not.” 

Hearing you he spun his chair away from his laptop, holding his hand out and when you went to him, he tugged you into his lap, circling around your waist. “I wanted you to wake up to something I knew you loved. Plus you've been too busy at work to decorate.” He kissed your shoulder and rested his chin on it while you slid your fingers gently up and down the back of his neck. 

“You are right Mike, I do love it, Thank You.” you hummed lightly and wrapped your arms around his neck to give him a hug, pulling in close. “And all those new pumpkins? Where did they come from?” You slid off his lap and went to go look closer at the new additions, tweaking them just a bit to put them where you wanted them, biting your lip excitedly. Mike was sure to save his work, and closed the laptop. Following you into the living room, he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Miss Thompson insisted you would like them. Want me to throw a pizza in the oven and we crash on the couch to watch a few halloween movies?” 

You twisted in his arms, and grasped his face, tilting up to kiss his lips with a teasing nip. “Yes, please. Anything I can do to help?” you fall back to the flat of your feet, and Mike leads you into the kitchen. “Bring us a couple drinks out to the living room, and as soon as I get this in the oven, I will be out to join you.” You grab a couple beers from the fridge, and make your way while Mike is turning on the oven and flipping the box to read the directions to himself. Entering the living room once more, you set the beers on a couple coasters, and fall onto the couch. In front of you were all sorts of sweet treats. You leaned forward, grabbing a pie when your empty stomach started to rumble, your teeth sank into the delicate pastry as you leaned your head back, moaning softly at the flaked crust and sweet filling with the taste of pumpkin, nutmeg, cinnamon and allspice. The spices tickle your taste buds, and the sweetness soothed it away. 

Mike came around the back of the couch, seeing you slowly chewing and giving that satisfied moan, moving to fall down next to you, arching a brow. “That better than the shower?” he teased you, and your eyes sprang open, shaking your head. 

“This just tastes good.” You grinned as you leaned forward to set it down and moved to straddle his lap, dipping for kisses against his lips, where your tongue slid along the seam of his lips till you could work past them, rolling your tongue against his, and he was caught unaware at how you would taste. A mix of your usual sweetness and the desert danced on his tongue, and his hands moved to grasp the back of your hair, to hold you in place, effectively take your kiss as his own. “You taste and feel good.” you pulled enough away to say before he closed the slight space to claim you all over again, strokes of his tongue teasing you.

Your hips started grinding, shifting yourself enough to straddle just one of his thighs while your hands slid along his shoulders, and you started to arch a bit more, a bit faster, harder as you pushed down. Mike's hands fell to your hips, helping you along by guiding you up and down. He pushed forward a bit to draw himself in closer, pulling his mouth from yours and muttering. “That's it pretty girl, make yourself cum again.” you nodded slightly and he pulled you down on his flexing thigh, making you toss your head back when it made your clit throb and your breathing come out in a rush. “Again Sir…” 

“Sir?” Mike pulled back, his blue eyes twinkling at you while he watched you pick up speed, chasing your end. Your fingers curled, clutching at his shirt and digging into his shoulders. 

“It slipped out Mike, I'm so close now.” your voice high pitched whine. You needed that rush, so close that you could taste that pleasure almost. Your movements started stuttering as your own muscles ached and Mike was quick to take over, picking up the speed you had before and you started chanting. “Yes, yesyesyesyes, fuck please.” 

One of Mikes hands snaked up to grasp the back of your head, tilting your head back and he pressed his face against your neck, chaining kisses and nips while whispering. “Come on Pretty Girl, I need you to come now.” Behind you the oven started alarming and the sense of urgency overcame you, to just rock on his thigh, your knee brushing against his hard on in his pants, and you were cumming for him, whimpering as you rode it out and you went slack, Mike loosening his hard grips and rubbing your back as he slid you off his thigh. “I gotta go check that pizza.” 

You nodded as he pushed off the couch, grabbing at his crotch to try and give himself some room, making you hide your face on the couch and giggle. You heard the squeak of the oven door and a soft “Shit” from Mike as a clang of a pizza pan went on top of the stove. “Babe, it's a bit crispy, but not terrible.” You wriggled to pull yourself up to kneel on the couch, leaning against the back to watch him in the kitchen look for the pizza cutter in a drawer. 

“Not a big deal. Crispy pizza is worth that orgasm.” You couldn't hide the grin as Mike was quick to slice the pizza into slices, and slide a couple on each plate while grasping the paper towels to tuck under his arm. 

“You can start the movie, and fuck you were about to make me blow my load in my jeans watching you. And that ‘Sir’? We still have to discuss that.” He sauntered back into the living room, while you were searching for the remote on the coffee table. Sure to hit play, he waited till you were comfy, and set your plate on your lap. You grasp the first piece, working on taking the crust off and rip off a bite size piece. Your eyes went from the screen to Mike. 

“It just… happened in the moment Mike. Why, did you like it?” You popped your bite in your mouth, and Mike tilted his head, pondering it a moment. 

“You caught me by surprise, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again.” He stated, and you grinned, wiggling brows. 

“Just wait till the day I call you Daddy.” 

Mike groaned, tilting his head back against the couch with a groan. “Your gonna be the death of me Y/N.” 

You snorted while tucking up your legs, and smirking at him. “I can think of worst ways to go.” 

You cuddled up closer, laughing before you took another bite of your food, and Mike pulled you in closer, both of you turning your attention to the movie for the rest of the evening. 

[sleepybutwriting]

I Believe You're My Soulmate | Wakatoshi x Reader

_____

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. With the phrase you got, you always pictured your soulmate as some nerdy guy, but boy are you wrong.

_____

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I believe you’re my soulmate.”

Those were the first words you would receive from your soulmate, engraved on your wrist as a constant reminder that your true love was out there somewhere. And he was a huge fucking nerd! 

At least that’s what you had always pictured. Why else would the first words of your soulmate be so formal?

As much as you liked the idea of one day putting a face to the sentence, you never thought of finding your soulmate as a top priority. You believed that whatever happened, happened, and you would find them when you were ready. So in the meantime, you focused on you.

And along the journey of finding yourself, you always managed to learn something new. For example, you really loved to play volleyball. You first got into it when one of your friends Hinata from middle school had begged you to set for him. The more you learned about it, the more you wanted to do.

You ended up following him to Karasuno High, where you both continued your volleyball journey and joined the volleyball team. Although none of the girls on the girl’s volleyball team were as motivated as the guys one, so you would often end up sitting in and practicing with them whenever you had free time in order to get in some extra practice. 

Today, Kageyama, wanted to work more on his serving, while, Hinata wanted to work on his spike, and you wanted to practice your receives, so you all made a plan to come in early and work with each other. It was the last day before summer break so you all thought it was important to cram in as much as you could. You were at it for almost an hour when the rest of the team finally showed up.

“Before we begin today, I have some great news” Takeda stated excitedly, causing everyone to abruptly stop and focus their attention on the young faculty advisor, “It appears that a few players from our team have been offered to attend the Shiratorizawa summer volleyball camp. It’s really hard to get into and although it only lasts for a few days, it’s a wonderful learning opportunity for up and coming players to expand their skillsets. Directed more for first years.”

Everyone’s mouth dropped, eyes staring expectantly waiting for Takeda to say which of them had got in. Even you were bouncing up and down silently praying that it was you who got picked. There would be nothing you would love more than to play with the best of the best from other schools. A good chance for you to show off your skills as well as learn new ones. You’d been waiting for another chance like this ever since you had played against Nekoma and Aoba Johsai in a practice match. You needed another challenge.

“What are you waiting for? Tell us who got in!” Tanaka shouted, unable to stand the suspense.

“Yeah!” Nishinoya added, backing him up. Takeda just grinned at their impatience before continuing.

“The players from Karasuno they selected are… Y/N, from the girl’s team, and Hinata, and Tsukishima from the boys.” You and Hinata stared at each other for a second before you both shouted out in joy, high fiving each other. The rest of the team also joined you giving the three of you a ‘congrats’ while patting your guys’ backs. Tsukishima didn’t seem affected by the news, the serious look he always kept on his face never fading.

“Wow, Tsukki! This is great. Aren’t you happy?” Yamaguchi questioned him.

“I would expect them to choose someone like me. And I guess I could picture why they would pick Y/N. What she lacks in blocking, she makes up for in receiving and attacking. But what I don’t get, is why they picked a small fry like Hinata.” Tsukishima answered, obviously trying to rile him up.  But Hinata played right into his hand,  marching right over to him and beginning to argue with him on how he’s improved.

You probably would have done the same if you weren’t already used to Tsukkis cold personality. You knew he just got a kick out of getting a rise out of people and accepted it as a part of him, so it doesn’t bother you as much as it did when you first met him.

When school had finally ended for the break, you were eager to already begin camp, not wanting to wait until tomorrow. But the day had arrived sooner than you had expected. Shiratorizawa Academy wasn’t too far from Karasuno. You had passed it plenty of times when out on your team practice jogs. But you and Hinata had still made a plan to meet up halfway so you could walk in together. 

You had told Tsukki about it, but he wasn’t interested. Stating that, ‘just because we’re on the same team, doesn’t mean we actually have to show up together.’ So it was just the two of you. Both gleaming with excitement.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Hinata asked jumping up and down in place, unable to contain his excitement. With each step you took, you could also feel your smile beginning to grow.

“Of course not. How could I?”

“Me neither. Kageyama was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was jealous.” Hinata laughed, thinking back to Kageyama’s face when he heard the news. “Man, I wish we were there already.”

“Well, then why are we walking so slow? Let’s pick up the pace already.” 

“Last one there has to pick up balls next practice match?”

“Deal.” and with those final words, you both took off right towards the Academy at full speed, trying to outrace the other.

You had arrived out of breath and sweaty, nearly collapsing the second you both passed through the doors to the gym. “I win!” You both shouted at the same time. “No, I did!”  you both argued again simultaneously.

Hinata quickly looked around the gym before locking eyes with Tsukishima and calling him over. “Who do you think won?”

“You’re both losers to me, so what does it matter? And I would appreciate it if you two didn’t acknowledge me while we’re here. I’m here to learn. Not babysit.” And with that, he turned and walked away not wanting to discuss the topic further.

“Dang that was harsh.” You mumbled, watching him walk away.

“Yeah. He must not have slept much either,” Hinata joked, causing the both of you to snicker. 

The first day of camp had you all riled up. You had seen a lot of people from other schools that you had recognized, but a few people were completely new. Some you had never even heard of, but all of them were great players, even for being first years. You felt really intimidated by everyone but had no problem getting along with, and even making friends with a few of the other girls, as well as a few of the guys.

And even after you had practiced all day, some of you would continue to practice playing two on two or even three on three matches. Just depending on how many people you had gathered that day. And this day was no different. You and Hinata had even convinced Tsukki to join you in a three on three practice match against, Kindaich from Aoba Johsai, Goshiki from Shiratorizawa, and Lev from Nekoma. Hinata even decided to up the stakes by making a wager that the losers had to clean up, and buy the winners dinner.

So now you were all pretty into it. Most of the other students had headed home, but a few upperclassmen from Shiratorizawa who had watched you all practice, lingered. Goshiki had mentioned that they were keeping an eye on him to take notes and tell him what he needs to improve on, but they were a little distracting. Mostly because of how intimidating they were.

Wakatoshi, who was apparently the ace that Goshiki had planned to replace, was really tall with a muscular build. While the redhead next to him, Tendo, was only slightly shorter with a skinnier frame. You weren’t exactly put off by them, but their general presence was pressuring. Although you had never officially met them, you had seen them play and they were both incredible. Practically unstoppable. And you wanted more than anything to be on there level. So, of course, it would be a distraction to play in front of them.

But nonetheless, you were determined to win. Mostly because you were starving and really didn’t want to clean up. So you gave it your all, Hinata and Tsukki doing the same.

The game was getting close to the end, and you just needed to score two more points to win. Thinking he had this, Hinata ended up screwing up on one of his receives and sent the ball flying backwards, directly towards the two upperclassmen who had lost interest a while back and were now talking to one another ignoring the match. Until someone shouted a “lookout!” successfully grabbing both of their attention.

Before you knew it, your body was flying towards the ball in a last-ditch effort to save it and send it back towards your two teammates. You jumped as high as you could and had managed to make contact, sending it over to them perfectly, but it had all happened midair, so as soon as you hit it, you lost your form and you were now heading straight for the ground before Wakatoshi caught you, causing you to crash into his chest instead of the floor.

You were trying to wrap your head around what just happened. It all happened so gracefully and fast that you were still in a little bit of a daze. Slowly, your mind started to come back to you. And as you processed what had happened, you couldn’t help yourself as you uttered out “what is this some kind of Wattpad novel?” while laughing like crazy.

It was just so smooth, and he was like a real-life prince that it had all fit so perfectly as something out of a storybook. Wakatoshi was about to speak before Tsukki yelled over at you abruptly interrupting him before he could get a word out.

“Hey! Do you want clean up duty or something? Quit screwing around, were outnumbered here!” Tsukkishima yelled, pulling your thoughts away from the man in front of you in time to remind you that you still had a game to win. You didn’t waste another second wiggling out of his grip and darting back on the court.

Hinata ended up scoring the last point earning you a final win. The two of you high-fiving while the three losers walked away sluggishly to the supply closet to get the cleaning equipment.

“That was a great spike, Hinata!” You praised, Tsukki just rolling his eyes and mumbling an ‘it was okay.’

“Forget my spike, what even was that save you did with the ball. I mean with your reflexes, you’d make a great Libero.”

“Ooo,” you responded giving the thought a once over, “I guess it would be fun to give Noya a run for his money.”

Tsukki just laughed at your comment, like it was the funniest joke you had told all year. “You’d make a better libero if you could catch your balance after you receive the ball.”

“Tsukki you’re always so cold. When will you just admit that you’re jealous of my mad receiving skills?” You argued before a deep voice sounded, cutting your argument short. You turned around only to come face to chest with your prince charming from earlier.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Wakatoshi stated, bowing slightly at you, “but I believe you’re my soulmate.”

The two boys had the same shocked reaction as you, but they were still able to move unlike yourself. Immediately yanking their gazes to stare at your frozen form. Your brain had officially short-circuited. Here you were, staring up at this greek god, whos towering over you. He’s nothing like the nerdy kid you pictured as your soulmate. He was...better. Is that even possible?

How was it that the dream guy you pictured growing up, just seemed average when compared to your actual soulmate?

Oh, god. How long were you standing like this? You have to say something quickly. Your brain was yelling at you to respond to this man. You just kept repeating the phrase ‘say something cute.’ Hoping that something cute actually would come out and you would be able to win him over. Until finally, you managed to spit something out.

“H-hi soulmate. I’m Y/N.”

...Shit

[jonahlovescoffee]

“good morning, sunshine” | J.M.

part one of the better together series

a/n: jonah’s latest instagram story with wes just hits different (*¯︶¯*) i mean have you heard his morning voice?! like damn i want it to be the first thing i hear when i wake up everyday :’( thanks to @chilling-seavey for sending the story into my dm early in the morning, it has been stuck in my head all day and i can’t focus on doing anything else >:(

summary: your daughter was far too enthusiastic in the morning.

word count: 1390

warnings: jonah being cute with kid, fluff overload, one occurrence of the f word, suggestive themes in the end.

“Daddy, mommy, wake up!” A cheerful 3-year-old child with shoulder-length brown hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes swung the door to your room open and rushed in, her teddy bear held tightly to her chest with an arm, her small feet thudding against the floor in an inconsistent rhythm as she ran towards the bed you shared with Jonah.

You immediately placed your phone aside on the nightstand upon the arrival of your enthusiastic daughter. You had already woken up moments ago but were reluctant to leave Jonah’s arms that were wrapped tightly around your body. No matter how many times you had woken up in this position with him, you’d never get tired of the way he protectively held you in his arms even as he slept, the sound of his soft snores and the comforting warmth that his body radiated.

“Morning, sweetie,” your lips broke into a smile when she stood on her tippy toes near the edge of the bed to kiss your cheek. She then proceeded to join both of you on the bed, squeezing her way between you two and making herself comfortable by purposely stretching her limbs out here and there so that you’d offer her more space. Her rough movements made Jonah stir from his peaceful slumber, rubbing his eyes as he grumbled under his breath about how much he needed more sleep.

As soon as he saw his daughter though, his initial moody expression brightened up instantly, his frown replaced by a broad grin and his eyes filled with nothing but all the love in the world. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said softly in his raspy morning voice, giving her a kiss on her head before asking, “what’s gotten you so excited this morning?”

“You have no idea what I dreamed about last night!” She exclaimed and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Oh? Lemme guess, did you dream about me?” You joked, booping her nose with your pointer finger, earning a small giggle from her.

“Yes, mommy, you were a princess in my dream! Can you believe that?” Her answer came as a shock to you since you weren’t expecting her dream to include anyone else besides Disney princesses and magical creatures. She continued to narrate the events of her dreams, her eyes sparkling with joy as she told you about herself being a fairy that could make pretty goens for anyone with just a swing of her wand. “You were so pretty in the dress that I made for you that a prince fell in love with you and you both lived happily ever after!” She stared dreamily into the air as she recalled the ending of her dream.

“Was I the knight in shining armor in your dream, little one?” Jonah asked but she shook her head which made his face fall in mock disappointment and his lips formed a little pout. She patted his arms as if to comfort him so when she opened her mouth to speak again, you both had expected her to say something comforting to cheer him up.

But she, apparently, had other plans in mind.

“The prince was too handsome to be you, daddy,” she said innocently, his eyes widening in shock as he fully processed the words that left his beloved daughter’s mouth. You put a hand over your mouth in attempt to smother your laughter but failing terribly once your daughter turned to you and asked you cluelessly if she had said anything wrong because Jonah had turned to the opposite side so that his back was facing her, not only offended by the fact that his own daughter technically called him ugly, but also the fact that his girlfriend married a stupid prince in her dream.

“Daddy, are you mad at me?” She asked, tugging on his shirt but receiving no answers from him in return.

“Daddy just needs some hugs and kisses,” you whispered into her ear once your laughter died down. “So why don’t we go give him some?” You asked, in which she responded with a nod before climbing to his side of the bed, throwing her arms over him and hugging him tight like a koala. Jonah tried his best to not give in to her clinginess or the adorable puppy dog-eyes that she was giving him, but he failed miserably the moment you joined in the hug from behind and both of you started to pepper his face with kisses simultaneously.

He finally caved in, bursting into a fit of laughter as the ticklish sensation on his face soon became too much for him to handle. “Stop,” he said breathlessly through his laughter, shifting his body so he was now laying flat on his back, pulling both of you close by his arms, one of you laying on each side. The happiness that he felt right then and there was so immense that it was impossible for him to put into words. Fooling around and having fun with two of his favorite girls in the entire universe were few of the many moments in his life he would cherish forever.

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Your daughter asked in fear of being unforgiven by her father whom she loved so dearly.

“Don’t be silly—you know it’s impossible for me to stay mad at you, my little ball of sunshine,” he patted her head gently and she heaved a sigh of relief at his words. “Since today is a weekend, why don’t we go get some ice cream and a fairy costume too in honor your amazing dream?” She perked up right away at his suggestion. “What do you think?”

“It depends if the fairy costume comes with a fairy wand. If it does, then yes it’s a great plan!”

“Even if it doesn’t, I’m going to buy you one anyways,” Jonah said matter-of-factly. You smiled to yourself as you watched the cute interaction between your boyfriend and your child.

“But you must buy mommy a pretty dress too!” Your little girl requested and of course, what she says always goes because Jonah never had the heart to say no to her. Plus, he would kill to see you in a new dress, although it’d probably end up on the bedroom floor right after you put it on.

“Yes, yes, sweetheart,” he kissed her once again before letting her hop down the bed. “So go brush your teeth now and we’ll have breakfast at home before we leave.”

“Thanks daddy, you’re the best!” With that, she ran out of the room before reappearing at the door again shortly. “Oh, and daddy?”

“Hmm?” Jonah looked at her with a raised brow.

“You are the most handsome person in the world, even more handsome than the prince in my dreams.”

She scurried away before Jonah could react. Let’s just say the smile didn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, even when his little ball of sunshine threw a huge temper tantrum and knocked over her entire platter of food on purpose during their dinner in a fancy restaurant.

Bonus:

“You spoil her too much, love,” you said to him after you put your little devil to sleep. You joined him on the living room couch to watch a movie before bed, snuggling into him.

He merely smiled. “I think I spoil you quite a lot too, dear,” he commented, lacing his fingers through yours, his gaze fixated onto the tv.

“Really? Because it doesn’t seem like it.” You watched him place the tv remote on the coffee table before turning his attention towards you.

“Hmmm....why don’t,” he leant in closer so his lips was near to your ear. His breath alone sent shivers up your spine and when he continued speaking, you swore you forgot how to breathe. “Why don’t you put on the pretty little dress that I bought you today if you wish see how much I can spoil you.”

Finally, here’s the exact sentence you were waiting for.

“Who says that I’m not wearing it now?” You took off the hoodie and kicked off the shorts that you were wearing, to reveal the golden silk nightgown underneath that was so short that it barely covered your butt yet it accentuated all your curves perfectly.

“Fucking hell, baby,” was the last thing he said before pinning you down onto the couch.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH8

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 8: Resurrection Overture (VIII)

When Qi Leren arrived at Chen Baiqi's store, it was 20 minutes earlier than the appointed time. Chen Baiqi was chatting with a woman with her back to him. They both looked at Qi Leren in the doorway, and Qi Leren also looked at the woman.　

That person was a very gorgeous and charming beauty, wearing a gorgeous and complicated low-cut witch's dress and a European top hat. Although her whole person was dressed in dark colours, it made her skin more white, and her bright red lipstick and smokey eye makeup were particularly attractive. When he noticed this, Qi Leren first reviewed why he noticed his sister's makeup at first sight... Was it really a matter of sexual orientation?

"Since you have a guest, I'll take a walk first. I'm tired from the task I just finished. Let's talk about it another day." The beautiful woman smiled at Qi Leren, picked up the women's walking stick at the table, and walked out of Chen Baiqi's shop gracefully.

"Who was that?" Qi Leren asked.

"The Illusionist," Chen Baiqi said.

Qi Leren suddenly remembered that the Court’s Miao Li had mentioned during his dream lessons that the Illusionist had helped cover up his tombstones on the Undead Island in order to hide them from the Slaughter Secret Society. Was it that beautiful woman just now?

"Have you had breakfast?" Chen Baiqi asked him.

Qi Leren nodded: "I’m full."

Chen Baiqi smiled meaningfully: "Don't eat too much next time, lest you throw up."

"..." Qi Leren felt that his future was grim.

"Although we’ve known each other for some time, I’ve never introduced myself properly. Since you will train with me from today, I will introduce myself again. Come with me. " Chen Baiqi led Qi Leren inside. Qi Leren had never been to the back part of the store. When he found that there was a basement with several floors, he couldn't help crying deeply for his future self.

"I used to be the executive officer of the Trial’s Heresy Court. I was mainly responsible for executing the Devil worshippers. Later, because of an injury, I could no longer continue such a high-intensity and dangerous job, so I retired early. Now I’m half an insider who does intelligence." The elevator stopped on the third basement floor and Chen Baiqi led Qi Leren out. The third basement floor was as big as a basketball court. The ground was made of concrete, without any obstacles, and it was scary.

Qi Leren wasn’t very surprised. He had always felt that Chen Baiqi was familiar with the Trials Court. It was to be expected that all of the information she had was somehow related to them.

"In the Nightmare World, so many players have explored 'playing methods' about this 'game' for more than 20 years. Today, I will briefly talk about the 'professions'," Chen Baiqi said.

Qi Leren pricked up his ears and listened attentively.

"Players will receive a skill card when they are in the Novice Village. This skill card is not given randomly, and most players will eventually build their own fighting style around this skill card. That is to say, the original skill card has actually selected the appropriate profession for the player. Take your Novice Village as an example: Dr. Lu, who is with you, is obviously a healer, while Xue Yingying is obviously a berserker. As for you, because your basic skill card is very delicate, it's the first time I’ve heard of such a skill card, so it's hard to judge your basic profession. But it doesn't matter. Most of the skill cards that players get in tasks will follow a certain rule. For example, a healer rarely draws a berserker-type skill card when drawing their card. That is to say, the skill cards obtained in the future are actually based on what you receive as your first skill card. They build around this 'profession'."

Qi Leren suddenly realized: so the skill cards he got later, such as "Rain-Day Laundry", "Primary Fighting Skills", and "Devil Etiquette", including the latest one, "Secretly Observing", all emphasized his profession.

—Assassin.

"I only know some of your skill cards, but I can make a rough judgment about you. You’re an assassin." Chen Baiqi folded her arms and looked at him laughingly. "So congratulations, I’m in the same profession. However, even amongst assassins, they will be subdivided into different categories because of their different personality traits and abilities. After all, everyone's skill cards are different. If you trust me, you can tell me your existing skill cards, and I will not disclose it to others."

Qi Leren vaguely felt that Chen Baiqi would sincerely teach him, and that his answer was the key. Of course, he couldn’t say it. Chen Baiqi would still train him, but she would not give everything to him. Chen Baiqi was... Qi Leren's brain flashed. She was looking for a successor!

Yes, Chen Baiqi entered the game very early and she said it had been eight years, which meant that she was an old player with high strength and rich experience, but it also meant that her time wouldn't be much longer.

Chen Baiqi was optimistic about him and willing to teach him, which was only too important for a newcomer who was still groping for his footing shortly after entering the game, and Qi Leren was very grateful. He didn't think Chen Baiqi had any malice towards him. After all, the gap in strength between the two people was right in front of him. If Chen Baiqi wanted to, she could kill him.

After figuring this out, Qi Leren relayed his skill cards and even told her of his items.

Chen Baiqi said, "You are an assassin. You already have basic premonition skills, detection and latent skills, and even half a camouflage skill. Right now, you still lack a skill to escape and strengthen combat effectiveness—Primary Fighting Skills is too low, it takes too long to upgrade past the basic stage. You can sell it after you’ve been trained."

Qi Leren nodded, "I’ve felt an obvious lack in combat effectiveness. I have no effective means of attack, and often I can only take the same route."

This also led to his excessive dependence on S/L Data as his solution.

"Although skill cards are very good and greatly improve newcomers’ survival rate in this world, I don’t advocate relying too much on them. The Nightmare World is a surreal world. There are many things that we can't do in the real world that can be done here. It also has its own power system. If you want to integrate into this power system, relying too much on skill cards will only hinder you. To put it simply, if you want to become a field-level master, you must quit your skill cards," Chen Baiqi said seriously.

"When you say the power system, you mean the Devils and the Holy See?" Qi Leren asked.

"Yes. With our status as players, if you want to reach the field level, you’re bound to become close to one of them. Because you’ve been parasitized by Slaughter before, I originally thought that your attributes were more inclined to the Devils, but now it seems that maybe you’re more inclined to the side of divine power," Chen Baiqi said.

"How do you see it?" Qi Leren was puzzled.

Chen Baiqi's mouth crooked and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were already a pair of red eyes: "The holiness of your body has exceeded the standard. Maria gave you an important gift before she sent you back."

Qi Leren recalled the warm and comfortable feeling when the dotted light of endless faith had poured into his body, and nodded silently.

"In fact, in addition to these two power systems, there are many magical powers in the Nightmare World. For example, I seldom use investigation skill cards because I once learned the language of birds from an elder. Although I’m not very proficient, I have no problem with basic dialogue. You can imagine how desperate it is to meet me in a wild jungle. This is better than the ability of any reconnaissance skill card. After all, there is no cooldown."

Qi Leren imagined that if he had met such an opponent in the forest during the Witchcraft Sacrifice mission... The birds in the whole forest were her eyes. She could observe every enemy 24/7 without cooldown, avoid any danger she wanted to bypass, and set traps to deal with anyone she wanted to deal with. This was simply terrible.

"Well, with this said, I’ll now begin to test your abilities, including your physical quality, judgment, intuition, and so on. I’ll test your intuition first. If you want to be a good assassin, you can't do without phenomenal intuition. You stand there blindfolded, this won’t take more than a minute," Chen Baiqi commanded.

Qi Leren obediently went to the place she indicated and took the red cloth she handed him, tying it over his eyes. Suddenly, there was only a suppressed scarlet: "How do we test it?"

Chen Baiqi's voice floated from in front of him: "It's very simple. I'll throw some knives at you. You can dodge them with your intuition. I won't tell you when I throw them."

???

! ! !

This wasn’t a test, it was a threat on his life!

"Put away Rain-Day Laundry and only use S/L Data, or else you’ll really die," Chen Baiqi said with ease and pleasure.

"The Prophet told me to use it less," Qi Leren protested weakly.

"Oh, then you don't have to. I’ll try not to aim at anything vital," Chen Baiqi said.

"...Forget it, I'll use it." Qi Leren surrendered and thought he would use it just this once.

S/L Data was activated and the current position was set as the save point. Qi Leren looked at the red before his eyes and his heart beat fast with nervousness. He counted the seconds for S/L Data in his mind.

30, 29, 28...

Chen Baiqi didn't throw, she was walking—Qi Leren couldn't see her or hear her footsteps, but he had a strong feeling that Chen Baiqi was walking around him... She was on his left... Behind him...

Danger, danger, danger!

Clearly there was no warning, no noise, but Qi Leren's mind had already sounded the alarm. He quickly squatted without thinking and a slight wind flew over his head, cutting off two floating hairs.

"Eh? The response was good." Chen Baiqi's voice came from behind him. It was behind him!

Qi Leren stood up and continued to count the seconds: seventeen, sixteen, fifteen...

Under your feet!

Qi Leren suddenly jumped up, and the throwing knife shot obliquely downward and struck the ground with a tang.

Even though he wasn’t hit, Qi Leren still felt a dull pain in his feet, probably from jumping too fast and cramping.

"You’re really good." This time the voice came from above his head!

Qi Leren flung himself forward and rolled on the ground for three or four meters. There was a continuous sound of breathing behind him. Obviously, several throwing knives stabbed one after another—into the concrete ground, and he stopped breathing from nerves. In such a dark place, he directly evaded the ubiquitous fatal danger that made him feel on the verge of a breakdown.

When he stood up again, Qi Leren had forgotten to count the seconds and Chen Baiqi's voice came from ahead of himt: "Well, let's stop here for now."

Qi Leren breathed a sigh of relief and his whole person relaxed from his panicked state, stretching out his hand to untie the cloth over his eyes. When the cloth strip was torn off, there was no figure of Chen Baiqi in front of him—only a parrot standing on the ground and talking with Chen Baiqi's voice, which laughed at him: "Fool."

Qi Leren stood stiffly and a cold wind struck into his torso from behind, the knife piercing his heart. After 30 seconds, S/L Data successfully read the file.

The real Chen Baiqi came from behind Qi Leren with a cheerful demeanor: "This is the first lesson for you: never let off your guard down too early in the face of danger."

-----

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[solastia]

Sanctuary | 2

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader

Summary: Your bed & breakfast has a new regular...Jeon Jungkook of BTS

You shuffle into your office, still a little sleepy despite having a shower and having a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. You weren’t sure what the cause of it was, but you’d been entirely too restless to sleep well. Too much excitement, perhaps?

You shrug to yourself and sit into your office chair with a loud yawn, ruffling your still damp hair as you power on your laptop. You still hadn’t received any reservations for this week and you were hoping someone would come by for the weekend at least. You had some honeymooners reserved for next week, but that didn’t help you now. An entire week without guests would put a noticeable deficient in the books.

That’s why when you pulled up your check-in program and saw that you’d been booked for the entire week by a single client, you had to verify that you weren’t still asleep. You pinched yourself and cringed at the pain, staring again at the program.

Sure enough, it was all still there. One client, for seven days straight. They’d booked the biggest room upstairs, the only one up there besides your own. What was incredibly strange is that they changed the offered rate. Normally, you were one of the cheapest places in the area and charged $120 a night. Not bad for one of the more expensive areas in Northern California. This person was offering you a deal of $300 per night, along with fees for meals and a hefty “to be discussed” tip if you were to close reservations for anyone else. They were trying to rent the whole place? So probably some celeb going for anonymity by hiding in an unknown B&B.

You shrugged. It wasn’t that crazy, although most local celebs tended to hang out in Carmel rather than around here. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first one you’d hosted, simply the first one that had been so generous. The other two were well-known names and you’d been expecting a hefty tip from them but they’d been surprisingly tight-fisted. One had even tried to argue your nightly fee down in exchange for using the name of your place on his social media. You’d been happy to decline.

While a little more business would be nice, you didn’t want the place overrun. You wanted it small and cozy. Safe, for yourself as well as your guests. The whole purpose of the place was to have somewhere calm and comfortable to escape to.

This person must be especially desperate if they were booking the entire place to be alone. There wasn’t a mention of them bringing any other guests with them. You exhaled noisily and clicked accept, sending them a little welcome email with all the instructions they’d need. You wondered with a self-amused grin if you should start putting a little footnote mentioning that celebrity scandals or drug-filled parties were not allowed on the premises.

You lean back in your chair when you’re done, taking sips of your now luke-warm coffee as you think over everything that you have to do to get ready. According to the form they filled out, they’d be arriving that evening. You kept the house in shape daily so you didn’t have much to do in the way of chores, but you should make a menu for the week, get the fireplace in the room prepped, and hit up a few of your friends for the local event tickets.

Thor comes up and bumps your thigh, reminding you that you still had to take him out.

“I got you, buddy,” you chuckle, standing up with a groan and going to fetch his leash. “We have a long day ahead of us, and then maybe you’ll have a new friend for a bit, huh? You gotta be on your best behavior.”

Thor barks softly and you pretend he’s answering you instead of demanding you hurry the hell up with your shoes. You decide at the last minute to throw on a hoodie too since the temperature was lowering fast. You hiss as you step outside and hope that Thor manages to get his business done fast. But even the chill wasn’t enough to bring down your mood. Today was going to be a great day. You could just feel it in your bones.

****

You had just finished putting another batch of cookies in the oven when you heard someone arrive and ring the little bell you kept on the front desk.

“Good evening! I’ll be right there, but go ahead and shut the door if you want!” You holler from the kitchen as you wash your hands.

You’d left the door open just in case they came around while you were putting around the place, but now that they were here you could finally turn on the heater.

You dry your hands and pat down your shirt and pants as you walk, hoping you didn’t look too casual. Jeans and a flowy blue button-up blouse with matching flats seemed casual yet comfortable. And you were wearing your pearls just in case they were the stuffy sort that would look down on you for not looking at least a little professional.

“Hi, welcome to Sanctuary! I’m -”

“Hey, Noona,” a cheeky-toned voice answered as you turned the corner and entered the foyer.

Your eyebrows fly up as you see the tall figure standing there. “Jungkook?”

He looks...fucking glorious. Black pants that look like they are painted on tucked into those stomper boots he seems to love. Plain black t-shirt tucked into his pants and a blue flannel shirt over that. Sitting next to him is a large black backpack that is easily half as big as him.

He grins cockily and leans against the desk. “They gave me a couple of weeks off so I’m here on vacation. Please take care of me,” he bows with mock formality.

“You’re the one that booked the whole place, right?” you ask, bringing up your computer application to check him in. He leans in way too close and looks over your shoulder as you work.

“Yup! One of the managers did the form though. Did he do everything I asked? Up the rate and made sure you feed me?”

You snort, “Yes, Jungkook. They are paying me an astronomical amount and I have plenty of food. Although, I only went shopping for one normal person. You’ll probably go through it all it two days, so make me a list.”

He chuckled lowly and you shivered, feeling his breath on your ear.

“Well, I’m not eating every meal here. I’m going to go out sometimes, too. Maybe noona can show me some nice places?”

You struggle to hold back a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A shrill beeping started in the kitchen and Jungkook jumped back, looking around curiously.

“Cookies,” you answered the silent question. You finish typing a couple of things in the program than jump up and rush towards the kitchen, amused to notice Jungkook hot on your heels.

You shove your hand in a glove and pull out the pan, your own stomach rumbling a little from the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. It probably also didn’t help that in your rush to prepare for your guest you might have forgotten your own meals.

You scoop them onto the wire rack, so focused in the work that you forgot about the other person beside you until his thieving hands begin reaching towards one of the scalding hot cookies. You smack it with the spatula.

“Let it cool,” you order unapologetically, forgetting for a moment he was an actual guest. His sheepish grin assured you that there were no hard feelings. And that he would probably do it again.

“Are you hungry for actual food?”

He nods quickly, helping himself to one of the bar stools at your prep counter.

“Yeah. I ate this morning, but then I had to finish this interview before they’d let me go free. And that means an hour in hair and makeup for five minutes of questions,” he rolls his eyes and props his cheek onto his hand as he watches you.

“Ugh,” you grunt sympathetically. You look around for the menu you’d made for the week and hand it to him. “Look this over, will you? Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like.”

He silently reads your list as you prepare him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. And maybe you sneak a couple for yourself as well.

Finally, he nods and tosses it over. “It’s good. Maybe add some Korean food if you know how to make any. I noticed there weren’t any restaurants.”

“Yeah, this place isn’t really known for its diverse cuisine. But if you want fifty seafood places, we have you covered.”

He snorts, “Kinda like home.”

You laugh, remembering how many little food carts littered Busan’s beaches.

You place his snack in front of him and he dives in happily, his eyes wide with happiness. You slide into the seat next to him and study him.

“So, Jeon Jungkook. What are your plans for the week? Are you going to stick around the house most of the time or should I maybe find some places for you to visit? I have lots of friends that I can get tickets from.”

He takes a huge gulp of milk and sighs contentedly before he answers. He shrugs, “Mostly around here. This is my time to actually relax. Definitely going to the beach and taking some photos. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” you hum, propping your chin in your hand. “The main attractions out here are all marine-based, so it’s up to you if you want to see any of it or if it’s all just old news to a Busan boy. But we do have the marine sanctuary nearby, there’s whale watching, and I think the butterfly exhibit is still going on. It really depends on how far you’re willing to travel. Monterey has even more things to do.”

He looks almost shy when he glances up at you. “Is it okay if we just stay here tonight?”

Your filthy disgusting mind conjures up all sorts of things hearing a sentence like that coming from Jeon Jungkook’s mouth, but you gulp and hope your voice sounds normal.

“Yup. Of course. It’s your vacation. Most guests don’t even interact this much with me. They just check-in and have meals sent to their room.”

“It’s okay. I like having noona around,” he grins, his eyes crinkling mischievously. Brat.

He looks around suddenly. “Hey, where’s Thor?”

“I usually keep him in my room until I figure out how pet-friendly the guest actually is.”

“You can let him run around, I’m fine,” he grins with excitement and follows behind when you get up and head towards the stairs.

Once you reach the top you can already hear Thor sniffing on the other side. You fling open your bedroom door and let him practically fly towards Jungkook. The man tries to sneak a peek inside before you slam the door shut, not ready to let the international celebrity see your mess.

Instead, you nod towards the room across the hall and gesture with your arm.

“This one is yours.”

He grins softly and walks around peeking at everything, patting the covers of the bed until Thor jumps up. He sits next to him and nods.

“It’s so nice. You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you grin lopsidedly as you take a quick look around. “I think I did okay too. I’m no interior designer, but I was hoping for homey.”

“It’s relaxing,” he agrees with a nod. “I couldn’t even do this with my own place. I just threw some blankets on the floor and set up my PC. I don’t even think I have proper dishes. I had to eat cereal out of the plastic bag inside,” he giggles.

You shake your head, unsurprised really.

“This TV is pretty big too,” he grunts as he climbs towards the headboard of the bed, then crosses his ankles with a sigh, setting against the plush pillow behind him and playing with the remote. “Do you get all the channels?”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing there awkwardly now as he gets comfortable. You should probably go make dinner now or something, right?

“Oh nice,” he suddenly exclaims exactly, tossing the remote away. “Deadpool is on. Come watch, noona,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

His eyes are huge and there’s not a single hint on his face that this is a joke. He looks innocent and earnest. Just where was this “shy” Jungkook you’d always heard about?

You shuffle towards the bed and slowly lower yourself onto it, trying your best to avoid actual contact with him. He didn’t seem to approve because he actually scooted closer until his rock hard thigh was pressed right up against yours.

“Get comfortable, noona. I don’t have rabies,” he chuckled, tugging you down a little more until you were sharing a pillow.

Fuck. How was it possible for a man to smell so good, you moaned in your head. Thor - the traitorous bastard - was cuddled in a circle right in between Jungkook’s legs. He looked well on his way to taking a nap.

You focus on the tv, not really watching the movie, and trying instead not to hyperventilate. He was so close and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. You felt like a nervous teenager.

It was probably midway through the movie when you first heard it. A tiny little wheeze. Then, the man next to you felt like he was slipping. You turn and grin when you notice that Jungkook is pretty much out for the count. His head has slipped right onto your shoulder and his mouth is wide open as he sleeps, his nose making a cute little rattle instead of outright snores.

You huff and look around, yawning as the feeling of laying in bed finally begins to catch up with you as well. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so it was understandable. But Jungkook probably didn’t get much sleep on a regular basis, so you’d hate to disturb him now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little bit. Just until it was time to make dinner.

You give in to the lazy feel of the room and shut your eyes, snuggling into the pillow a little more. You barely noticed when a strong arm flipped you over gently and pulled you closer.