#feels like a bundle of anxiety topped off with no self worth

[hellcheer-heaven]

Budding - 90s Pregnant Hellcheer

Beard Eddie photo by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Click here for the post Thanks for giving me the okay for using your photo edit.

Thank you @a-strange-inkling for proofreading the beginning stages of this short fic. Also please check out both creators listed here.

Waking up early in the morning came naturally to Eddie, it was pretty much a part of himself like the curly locks on his head; and currently the dark hairs sprouting from his face. He looked over at the sleeping woman, hair draped along her shoulders and face so at peace. Chrissy has been getting some much needed rest lately for the sake of her health and for the developing little one in her womb. There was a lovely sort of glow that surrounded her no matter where she went. Even on the days when she felt and proclaimed that she looked like a terrible mess, Eddie reassured her that nothing would dull her sparkle.

It was another quiet, lazy Saturday in their neighborhood. Most of their neighbors were still asleep, say for a few early birds that wanted to get their steps in before breakfast. Eddie occupied himself with whisking raw eggs and adding just a bit of milk to give it that fluffy texture that Chrissy liked. He practically tore open the entire package of bacon, nearly loosing a few stragglers, but thankfully his lightening fast reflexes caught the flying pork. The coffee maker bubbled as he placed the large glass container beneath the dispenser. Before he could turn on the stove, Chrissy’s sudden gasp caused him to rush to the room.

“PleasebeokayPleasebeokayPleasebeokay!” His mind begged. Eddie nearly lost his balance as he ran down the carpeted hallway before catching himself, firmly planting his feet onto the ground. “Chrissy? Baby? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the emergency room?!”

Chrissy’s back faced him, her blue eyes gazing into the mirror with quite the wide eyed stare. “Eddie… I…”

Eddie was afraid something absolutely terrible must have happened, but he had to take a deep breath. “Y-Yes? What is it?”

She slowly turned around, something was quite different with her. Aside from her bump, there was also the newly developed pair of breasts protruding out from Eddie’s nice dress shirt.

She kept herself covered, feeling incredibly embarrassed at how much skin was showing, “Eddie my boobs got bigger!”

He gulped, his mind heavily chastising him for the thoughts that were appearing. He had to think of something, anything to say to his beloved wife.

His face felt so hot and red, “Y-Yeah… yeah they did.”

It’s not like they haven’t seen each other semi to fully nude before. In her current state, this was vastly different than what she or he were used to. They both stared, flabbergasted at the single or possible double cup size increase.

Eddie hurried to readjust his vision, “How do you feel Chrissy?”

Her fingers gently felt along her budding skin, “I feel weird.”

“Do you have to go to the hospital?”

She gave him a reassuring smile, it gave him some relief of his anxiety. “No I’m fine. I just… never really thought they would grow that much.” She faced her reflection, shrugging off the shirt to get a closer look. “It’s just, I look so different.”

Eddie placed a loving hand to her shoulder, she held onto it sweetly. He pecked the top of her head, “Good different or bad different?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I just… never really imagined that I would actually get big breasts.” Chrissy winced slightly when she held up the tender bundles.

They felt and appeared so oddly shaped to her. Then again having her abdomen sticking out from her small frame was still so unusual to see. Chrissy was always so used to having the body that she had always had: Petite with muscle and a bit of body fat. Nothing out of the ordinary for some people, but the things that her mother said did a number on her self esteem, self image, and self worth. Always making her believe that she was ugly and unattractive in her childhood and especially during adolescence.

Fat pig, string bean, baby face, rabbit teeth, body of a child, too quiet, not lady like, and so much more.

Even when her body began to naturally change during puberty and now during pregnancy, her mother still made it her mission to make her life hell. It’s no wonder Chrissy and her darling husband found a house of their own some towns away from Hawkins.

Eddie moved a lock of her hair behind her ear, “Do they hurt?”

“A little bit.”

He nuzzled into her neck, his voice filled with concern, “Only a little?”

She carefully placed them back down, really considering how she truly felt, “Well, more than a little. They feel sensitive and sore. It’s like I’m going through puberty again, but now I have these and my stomach is…”

Eddie cradled her pretty belly, his warm palms tracing her lovely stretch marks. “You look beautiful Chrissy.”

The lump in her throat started to grow even more, “But I feel like a fat cow.” She shut her eyes tightly, “And I look like one too!”

Eddie just wanted to hug her as tightly as he could, but all he could do was gently wrap his arms around her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You’re beautiful Chrissy, no matter what your brain tries to tell you. You’re the most courageous, amazing, and beautiful woman in the whole world.”

She swiped her teary eyes with the backs of her hands, “I wish I could believe that Eddie!”

Eddie turned her around and pecked her face, sweetly and generously giving her as many pecks he could give her until the tiniest smile pulled at her cotton candy colored lips. She softly cooed his name, her tears forming from self loathing to affectionate. She couldn’t prevent her giggles from tumbling out, the scruff tickling her neck as he bent down. Chrissy nibbled her lower lip, watching the way his bubblegum pink mouth planted more and more upon her body. Slowly and earnestly along her breasts, looking up to gauge her reaction: Chrissy was all smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

She ran her fingers through his curls, “Eddie, that feels really nice. It kinda tickles a little.”

He closed his eyes, his hands caressing the sides of her body as his lips followed the shape of her torso. Wanting to follow every stretch mark with his fingers and tongue, but she was vulnerable and that wouldn’t be fair to her. Instead he placed the side of his face along her bump, breathing lightly as the warm flesh heated his cheek. Eddie looked up and still could see the sunshine smile of his Spring Goddess, her flower bed and fruits growing healthily.

Chrissy cradled his sweet, hairy face, rubbing the apples of his cheeks with her thumbs. His lips proceeded to return back up until their mouths collided, that’s when he heard it again: Laughter. Her laughter was the most wonderful melody that he could ever hear. No amount of string bending, shredding, or tapping would ever compare. They walked over to the bed, and he helped her onto her back, making sure that her pillows were aligned the way they were supposed to be for both support and comfort.

Chrissy curled her pointer finger, wanting a little more love; boy did he deliver. Kisses, kisses, and more kisses. She then began to whimper, the sensitive sensation returning to her breasts once more. Eddie was careful to not put any kind of weight on her, laying next to her and kissing her hand.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

She thought for a moment, tapping her fingers upon the mattress to find her answer. What did the moms back in Hawkins suggest during this time? A gentle massage with massage oil was the way to go according to them. He smiled, soon returning with a jar of oil that Mrs. Sinclair, Wheeler, Byers, and Henderson swore by. Thank god for their wisdom and experience, because the last person Chrissy would ever turn to regarding motherhood was her own mom.

They sat there for a moment, the two of them looking back and forth at the jar and her chest.

He gulped nervously, “So… um…”

“I guess you can start,” Chrissy mentioned, still a bit weirded out as well; honestly that makes two of them.

He swallowed, “Y-Yeah. Yup, I’m gonna massage your ti- breasts.” He sighed slowly through his nostrils, “Holy shit her tits are huge. So fucking soft and squishy. Our baby is so lucky.”

She nodded, gulping down as well, “Yeah, you’re gonna touch them.” She proceeded to open the dress shirt, blushing a bit at the sight. “God I feel like a cow! Jesus my tits look like someone sewed cantaloupes in me. Please don’t turn into watermelons! Please!”

Eddie broke the silence, it was probably the stupidest thing he’s said in a while, but he really needed to know. “So I’m not going to squeeze all of your milk out, right?”

Chrissy held his hand, showing him a wonderful grin and a warm chuckle, “No Eddie, my milk isn’t going to come out.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

She held his worried face, “You won’t hurt me, you never have.”

Eddie grinned, moving his face to kiss her palm before warming up the oil in his hands. He could feel the more immature part of his brain telling him to do things to her chest. The rest of his mind continued to scold him before locking up that area. With all distractions put aside, he could then focus on her needs. His tattooed hands and fingers slowly touched the heaping bundles of flesh, following the shape in precise circles. Starting with both and then transitioning to each one individually with his talented hands. Chrissy observed how those inked appendages motioned along her breasts, gazing through her lashes and following the way he very gently sculpted her.

She giggled, “Eddie, I really like that. Ooh, you’re so gentle. I love how sweet you are.”

He gave her a playful wink, “Sweet as honey baby girl.” He stopped momentarily when she softly gasped, his worrying thoughts returning in a flash, “Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, that just felt really, really good.”

His eyes looked between her face and body, “Are you gonna… you know?”

Her brows rose up, nodding slowly and waiting patiently for him to continue. She knew the word, but still wanted to hear it from him, “Am I going to what?”

His fingers started to slowly release her, his bashful smile evidently displayed, “Squirt milk?”

Close enough.

He couldn’t help but hide his face when she started to laugh, very loudly actually. When her giggle fit was over, Chrissy moved his hands aside and pecked the thorn surrounded rose tattoo on the back of one hand.

She placed a curly lock behind his ear, “I’m sorry Eddie, that was just really funny. It’s lactate, baby. That’s the word you’re looking for.” Chrissy held up her bosoms, giving them a gentle squeeze, “And no the doctor said it’ll be a while before that happens. Actually they could end up getting larger.”

“Really?” He sounded a little hopeful, something that Chrissy slyly smirked at to which Eddie changed his tone. “I mean… um… that sucks.”

“Pun intended Eddie?”

He gave her a cute pout before smirking himself, “Geez Chrissy, you’re really putting me between a rock and a hard place.”

Chrissy snickered, “Well I’m sure resting your head on something soft might ease the tension.”

Was she being serious or just joking? Either way he was pleased knowing that she was happy, comfortable, and safe. They hardly said anything for the remainder of the morning as he commenced with massaging her. Nothing much had to be said, their smiles were enough. The gentle touches were enough. Their kisses were enough.

They were enough.

[moeblob]

My manakete OC I draw from time to time... Nadja.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment

Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment

A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!

________

“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”

“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”

“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”

“Really?”

“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”

“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”

“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”

“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”

“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”

“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”

“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”

“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”

“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”

“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.

“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.

“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”

“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.

“Twenty years, why?”

“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.

“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.

“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”

“You got that fancy computer though.”

“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”

“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.

“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.

“Debatable.”

“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said. 

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“No.”

“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”

“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”

“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”

“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”

“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”

“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath. 

“You okay?” 

“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”

“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”

“No. Why?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”

“That was Dee’s hoodie.”

“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”

“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”

“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.

“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.

“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”

“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”

“This Is Us?” you asked.

“Supernatural?”

“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said. 

“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”

“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”

“I will Y/N. Promise.”

Friday Night

“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”

Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.

“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.

“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders. 

“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.

“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”

She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.

“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.

“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.

“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”

“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”

“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”

“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”

“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”

“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”

“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”

“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”

“It’s my adorable face,” he teased. 

“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”

“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”

“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Next Night

You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.

He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.

“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.

“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”

He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.

“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.

You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.

“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.

“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”

“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”

He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.

“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.

“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”

“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.

“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.

“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”

He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.

“This is fucking awesome,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”

“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”

“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.

“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”

“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.

“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”

“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”

“Hm?”

“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.

“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”

“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”

“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.

“If it’s a problem-“

“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.

“I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”

“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.

“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.

“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.

“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”

“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”

“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”

“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.

“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.

“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”

“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.

“Now that’s just sad.”

“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.

“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.

“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“

“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said. 

“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t...talk about her much.”

“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”

“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head. 

“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”

“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”

“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.

“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”

“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.

“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled. 

“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.

“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”

“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”

“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”

“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.

“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”

“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.

“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”

“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”

“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”

“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”

“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”

“No,” you said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”

You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.

“What?” you snapped at him.

“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”

“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”

“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“This is my part of the house.”

“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”

“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”

“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”

“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”

He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.

“The kids-”

“Not the kids.”

“I don’t remember,” you said quietly. 

“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it. 

He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”

“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.

“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.

“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.”

“Cause he’s kinda me.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”

“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”

“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.

“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...” 

He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath. 

“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”

“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.

“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.

“All of the above.”

“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good,” you said.

“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”

“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“Normally the best course of action,” you said.

“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”

“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”

He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.

You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids. 

“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”

“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”

“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.

“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.

“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”

“Is there any other kind?” you said.

“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”

“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.

“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”

“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.

“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”

“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”

“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”

“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.

“Are you ready to try this?”

You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.

“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.

“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.

“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed. 

“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.

“I hope not,” he said. 

“Do they know? You want to date?”

“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”

“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”

“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.

“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”

“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Want help?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you. 

“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.

“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.

“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”

“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple. 

“Night Y/N,” she said.

“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut. 

“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.

“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”

“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”

“Thinking about what?” you asked.

“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.

“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said. 

“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.

“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt. 3

Hear me out... Dabi is a fuck boi, Touya is a simp. I’m just saying. This part is Dabi’s point of view and the war that goes on in his brain when dealing with the feelings he has for Y/N. This one is a little shorter but I basically have the next part ready, I just need to tweak it a bit before posting so expect it soon.

Click here for a full list of other parts. Part 4 

Still no smut. It’s a slow burn <3 

Taglist:  @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess

Word Count: 2 k 

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It had taken almost an hour for you to fall back asleep. Dabi played on his phone quietly, glancing over at you every so often, making snarky comments about how you were more than welcome to join him in the bed, which you had completely ignored.

Even though his alpha was begging him to pick your cute little ass up and force you into giving him attention, he resisted, knowing that would only freak you out more and would prolong the inevitable. At some point your resolve would cave. At some point you would reach out to him wanting the attention that only he could give you.

He also knew at some point you would come to the realization of who he was...

He had vowed to stay away from you, to let you move on with life, to let you have a chance at free will. But the moment he saw you in that market, with the Todoroki boy of all people, he couldn’t stop himself. He had naively thought that when he disappeared that Endevor would give up and let you go.  He didn’t think that he would just pass you along to his favorite son. His pride and joy. You were older than the half and half brat by several years. Sure you looked young, but that didn’t change the fact that you were already in your twenties and was following around a teenage alpha like a lost puppy dog.

Dabi was livid. He didn’t mean to start the fire, but the alpha inside took over and the next thing he knew, the little runt was running off to go be hero, leaving you behind unprotected and scared. Dumb kid, why would he leave something as precious as you, just to go deal with a stupid fire. You were even crying out for him, begging him to come back, and the damn runt didn’t even care. This isn’t at all the life that Dabi wanted for you, the whole reason he left was to protect you, and look what was happening instead.

So Dabi took you. He took you away from the Todoroki family like he should have done years ago.

Looking over at your sleeping form now, he hopped he made the right decision. He never wanted to get you tangled up in this kind of life. It was why he didn’t take you with him when he ran. Why he left you behind hoping that you would get to make something of your life that you actually wanted.

It was too late though, he couldn’t just back out of the league, and he didn’t want to. He strongly believed in what they stood for and he wanted to be apart of tearing down hero society as the world knew it. He wanted to be the one to bring Endevor down for all the pain and hurt he had caused the people that should have been the most important to him.

He paused, looking back over to you as a soft sigh escaped your lips. His Alpha was begging for release. He needed to get out of here, away from your tantalizing scent. Looking around the room he took stock of what all he had. He probably should get some more water, and he was almost out of cigarettes himself. He briefly wondered how you felt about smoking.. maybe he would quit if you asked. He made a mental list of things to pick up, maybe a couple things for you that would help you relax. He briefly wondered if (F/C) was still your favorite.  

He stood up, frowning as he realized how stupid it was of him to make you sleep in that crappy chair. He should move you over to the bed where you could be more comfortable. He shuffled over to you quietly not wanting to rouse you, attempting to slip his arms under you to pick you up. The soft groan of annoyance that slipped out between your lips had him pausing. You pushed at his chest insistently in your sleep, at one point kicking your leg out narrowly missing his crotch, grumbling to get the fuck off you and let you sleep. You sounded like you were scolding an annoying sibling that wouldn’t leave you alone. He rolled his eyes, grabbing the pillow off his bed and tucking it behind your head instead. He would just let you sleep there if you were going to start cussing at him.

Taking one last glance around the room to make sure everything was secure, he put on his mask that covered his lower half of his face, concealing his identity and closed the door behind him. Locking it.

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The little bell above the door chimed as Dabi stepped into the small store. He nodded his head at the beta that was working the register, she was a pretty blonde that had taken quite a liking to Dabi. He was pretty sure she had no clue who he actually was, but he didn’t think she would be surprised. The part of town they were in wasn’t known for being a particularly safe neighborhood.

Dabi meandered through the store isles, picking up what he needed and placing it into the tiny basket that the store provided. He glanced through the shampoo and soap collection… he was pretty sure most girls used conditioner for their hair. Should he get you one that was made for omegas? Or should he get the one that matches the shampoo he uses at home… it wouldn’t be as obvious if he got the one that matches his stuff… and he did love them smell of it on you.

He groaned softly, leaning his head on the top shelf in front of him. Why was he even thinking like this? He was acting like he was pussy whipped. He hadn’t been this considerate of another person in years. In fact, he regularly used girls just to get through his ruts and then would kick them out right after, not even bothering to hear their name. Never has he ever given a shit if they were comfortable or what they would enjoy. He hasn’t cared about any of that shit since he left you behind at that damned house. Yet the second you are back in his life he has his tail tucked between his legs ready to bend to your every whim. You didn’t even want anything to do with him. Fuck, you were literally following his little bro-, that stupid brat around like he was your world just this morning. Like you… actually wanted him. Maybe you did... or maybe the looks you used to give him were all just an act for self perseverance and you were just using the same tactic on the kid.

“What’s wrong handsome? Bad hair day?”

Dabi lazily glanced over to the beta greeting him, having left her stool at the checkout counter to come check on one of her favorite customers. Dabi knew the beta wanted his attention. She had mentioned it one too many times that she could handle a rut just as well as any omega. Hell, Dabi had been seriously considering taking her for a test drive before all of this happened. She was pretty, in a slutty kind of way, perky. He raked his eyes down her body, a frown tugging at his lips as he compared her to you. He preferred you.

“What? You don’t like what you see?” A pout was growing on her lips and Dabi internally rolled his eyes at her pitchy whine. She would never be able to get his mind off of you. It wasn’t worth it.

“Sorry babe. I’m just not feeling great.” This placated her slightly, enough so that she rolled her eyes before turning back to the counter to busy herself with work once more.

Dabi looked back at the selection in front of him, grabbing the matching conditioner to what he already had in shampoo.  He continued on with his shopping at a faster pace now, just wanting to get back to you, to your scent. He paused just before the counter, a collection of nesting blankets up on the wall in front of him of varying styles.

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Touya was on fire, but this time the fire wasn’t visible, and it wasn’t because of his quirk. His face was bright red as he stood in front of you, a crudely wrapped present in his hands, your F/C ribbon tied around it with a bow that was a little lopsided.

He had rushed into the kitchen where you and his mother Rei were working on putting together dinner after coming home late from training with his father. His mom had sent him a knowing smile, ruffling his hair to his annoyance, before excusing herself to another room leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen.

He was bursting with anxiety as he handed you the present, watching as you gingerly pulled one side of the ribbon letting it unravel, and pulling the wrapping apart to uncover the soft fur blanket that was bundled inside. The way that your face lit up, your cheeks turning as red as his own as you pulled the blanket out of the wrapping and up to your face to breathe in the smell that he had spent time making sure was covering the entire blanket made all his worries disappear. You liked it.

“I know, that this isn’t really the traditional way since… well you know.., but I wanted to get you something… I wanted to ask you to… if you wanted..” Touya was tripping over his words. Nothing seemed right. Nothing could explain the feelings he had for you, that he knew would only grow as you both reached presenting age, and not to mention maturity after that, he knew that this was only the beginning to what he had hoped would be a long life with you by his side. Even at such a young age, he knew you were it. 

You could feel it too, he thought. You were always so kind to him, even though his father had bought you with the sole purpose of being Touya’s omega just to breed your quirks once you were older. You had always cared for him in a way that was different than how his parents had cared for each other and the moments that you two stole away to be alone convinced Touya that maybe you would be okay with the life that you were forced to live, as long as he was there with you.

The smile that you gave him melted his heart and he smiled back as you nodded. You knew what he was trying to say, you always did.

About three day’s later, Endevor set that blanket up in flames. Belittling the small omega for messy nesting habits, the young alpha for wasting time on courting an omega he already owned.  

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Dabi shook his head, grabbing the blanket closest to him causing the beta at the counter to raise her eyebrows, throwing it up on the counter along with his basket of items. He quickly picked out his cigarettes, paying for the items and slipping out of the shop without another word. He wanted to get back to his Omega.

 Once he was back in his apartment, after confirming you were still indeed asleep, he went to work grumbling the whole time to himself about his omega like behavior, putting the items he bought away, the conditioner being slipped inconspicuously in the shower for later use if you wanted. He made quick work of cleaning up the small room of his apartment, even stopping to pick up his clothes and put them in the dirty hamper, along with yours that were discarded on the floor. He felt so restless, anxiously glancing over at the bag with the blanket in it every few minutes before he finally gave up and just spread the blanket across your lap not bothering to scent it. You would ask him if you wanted him to.

Finally, he collapsed onto his bed, peeling his hoodie off and balling it up to use it as a makeshift pillow. He probably should have grabbed a second one while he was out, but he didn’t think about it. He let his mind roam, tucking his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling breathing in your scent, a smirk coming to his lips as he relaxed from the smell. He didn’t need the help of some perky beta, not when he knew he could have you.

[slutsofren]

not the only way

din x neutral reader✨

Summary: Things are going good in the world of bounty hunting alongside one Mandalorian and his green baby. But he wants more. He wants to see you with his own eyes.

Word count: 1,400 exactly lmao

basically we got to talking in the discord server about Din revealing his face and well- i couldn’t be bothered to stop soooooooo here is a totally self indulgent fluff piece for my loveee

read on ao3 here

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Things were… good. Better than good, they were great if you were being honest with yourself. You weren’t in the habit of jinxing things when everything always seemed like an uphill battle but you couldn’t deny how incredible the recent month was.

You’d been off carting around the galaxy with a beskar clad Mandalorian for nearly a year and a half. Your work with the man was a constant threat to your life, keeping you on your toes and being more vigilant meant you hardly had moments of reprieve. It was okay though, you thought. Days like this meant the universe to you.

Bounties came along easily, the most recent few hardly putting up a fight for their worth. The pay had been phenomenal. Fuel costs were low, maintenance on the Razor Crest were far and few in between now.

Yeah, things were good.

It was when things got slow did your mind wander. Thoughts of the man under the beskar helm, how his voice would sound without the modulator distorting it. Was it naturally low or was that the manipulation of the helmet, you wondered. Like small clouds shifting in the wind your mind tried to conjure up ideas of the color of his eyes or the texture of his hair. There were so many possibilities.

Your mindless daze got the attention of the man on your mind. “What are you thinking? You look lost in thought,” he spoke beside you in the cockpit of the Razor Crest.

“I’m wondering how long this is going to last, Mandalorian.”

His sharp silver helmet tilted to the side, wordlessly encouraging you to continue.

“The last few jobs have been easy, you know? We haven’t had anybody chasing us in weeks. These last few days have been really peaceful and it’s nice. I can’t help but wonder that’s all.”

He let out a soft hum at your admission, likely feeling the same way. He was tired, stars you were both tired. It wasn’t like either one of you were getting any younger either. Being chased by the last remnants of the Empire really aged the two of you.

The Child, Grogu, cooed in Din’s arms and reached towards you, wanting to be held by you.As he settled in your lap the quiet hums of the ship filled the comfortable silence. Your mind still wandered as you stared into the mesmerizing sight of hyperspace as your trio scampered off to the next bounty.

Eventually you dozed off, as did Grogu, only for you to be awakened a short while after by a leather clad hand gently shaking your shoulder. You furrowed your brows, let out a questioning hum and opened your eyes. Din stood above you and you looked past his body out towards the window, noticing that you were all still in hyperspace. 

The Mandalorian held his gloved hand out towards you. “Come, I need to speak with you,” he paused, looking towards the sleeping child, “privately.” You accepted his hand and stood then placing the sleeping bundle into his pram in the corner and quietly shutting it closed.

Din led you through the shutter doors, just past the ladder leading toward the hull of the ship.

Towards his private quarters.

“Trust me,” was all he said after noting your hesitation. For all the time you’ve worked together the two of you have always gone out of your ways to give the other privacy and space. In such a small ship, it was well needed for both of your sanities some days.

Your eyes wandered around his room, taking in everything as fast as you could. Much like the rest of the Razor Crest, it was dark in his room save for the small blinking lights littered around the walls as indicators of various mechanics. You were able to see that he had few items, much like yourself. A small simple bed, a couple storage crates stacked neatly against the wall, his beskar spear and some blasters resting on top of a lone crate by his bed, and nothing else. Simple pleasures for a simple man, you thought.

“What did you want to talk about, Mandalorian,” you questioned.

For such a brute man on the field, he seemed to shrink into himself, his body language screamed the anxiety that lurked beneath. “Hey,” you put a hand on his right pauldron, the same one marked by his clan symbol, “what’s going on?”

“I would like to kiss you,” he admits softly just before a whisper of your name crosses his lips.

You straighten up for a brief moment, taken back by surprise. He notices this, as he does everything, and takes a step back away from you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Wait, Mandalorian, no,” you stop him and take a step and another step closer until you’re practically breathing in his scent. Bergamot, leather, and blaster powder fill your senses, his familiarity ingrained in your mind just as this moment will be. “I think I would like that too.”

You raise your hands up towards the dark fabric of his cape that tucks just beneath his chest piece, your eyes focused on the visor of his helmet. Your spine steels itself in its place, each breath that escapes your lips filling your heart with more and more hope that this is happening.

This is really happening.

“Are you sure, cyar’ika?”

“More than anything.”

His own hands reach up and cup your face, bringing his helmet down to lean gently on your forehead softly. A Mandalorian kiss. 

This was a lot for him, you knew. The creed, the covert, everything about his status as a Mandalorian relied on secrecy and honor. He was trusting you with this and in return, you’d honor him.

Your bounty hunter leaned away as his hands left your face. Inhaling a sharp breath, you closed your eyes in anticipation as a hiss filled your ears noting that he removed the heavy metal from his head.

The fabric of his thick cape itched under your palms as you inched your fingers higher and higher slowly to the back of his neck. Giving him a chance to stop if he needed to.

Soft hair tickled the tips of your fingers, a small breathy chuckle left your lips at the feeling. Soft delicate touches reached forward and you began to feel the roughness of facial hair along his jaw, your smile grew wider. “Cyar’ika,” Din’s deep voice tingled your ears.

Oh, you thought, you could never get used to this but you’d welcome it all the same. “What is it, Din?”

“Open your eyes,” he asked softly, nearly a murmur, “let me see your eyes.”

Your heart fluttered at this. Uncertainty pushed far to the center of your mind. “Din-,” you began.

“Don’t worry your pretty mind with anything, just,” he stumbled, “please let me see you.”

“But The Way-,” you began.

“The Way doesn’t have to be the only Way.”

A heartbeat passed. Two. Three.

Opening your eyes was likely the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life, all these worries infested your mind but that voice, that pleading. It was so hard to resist when Din’s sweet voice asked so softly to see you.

Those small blinking lights casted a soft glow on the face in front of you. The first feature you noticed were his lips, by the stars, his lips. Your gaze trailed upwards to his well groomed mustache, a feature you’ll likely store away for later in your mind, his sharp prominent nose, and finally his eyes.

Stars, his eyes.

He gazed upon you like it was your first time seeing each other, truly seeing the other. And it was, in a way.

“Din, you’re so handsome,” you spoke softly. His lips twitched a smile at your admission. He leaned his head forward and gave you yet another Mandalorian kiss. You threaded your fingers to the back of his head, feeling the soft curls beneath your fingers as the two of you inhaled each other’s presence. You whispered, “Kiss me.”

Tentatively his lips touched yours and it wasn’t perfect by any means but you still felt as if you were as light as a feather. His mouth moved in tandem with yours deepening the kiss the two of you always wanted but never let yourselves have.

Not once have you seen more beautiful brown eyes.

[loving-inkpressions]

Burning Up [3/?]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Dedicating this chapter to my fellow supportive writer, @thevampirearcher. For those of you who have been waiting to read this, thank you for your patience and lovely support. ❤️

Prefer reading it on AO3?

Sitting at the small vanity in her bedroom, Denali carefully applied a light touch of blush to her cheeks.

It was 5.40pm, 20 minutes from the time that Rosé had said she would pick her up at. Denali would have been ready earlier, but she had to finish up a report before leaving the office. Of course, Rosé had told her that she could take off any time after lunch during their morning meeting, but Denali had simply given her a withering look that had spoken volumes on how she hadn’t wanted any preferential treatment.

Not that Denali wasn’t already getting preferential treatment. The blonde wasn’t blind nor was she oblivious to what was happening. Rosé had asked her to be her plus one to the benefit, and clearly it wasn’t in a professional capacity. Her actions in the boutique had made that very clear.

Denali felt her face heat up at the memory of Rosé being in such close proximity with her in the fitting room. Rosé’s fingers trailing on the skin of her back as she zipped her up, her wrists being held in Rosé’s gentle yet firm grip, chin pressed against her bare shoulder, their cheeks almost touching, her eyes burning every inch of her. She could barely breathe through it all and even now, Denali felt as if the ghost of Rosé’s touch was still on her.

Her touches were definitely far more intimate than what was warranted in a professional relationship, something that Denali had been trying, and failing, hard to maintain. But then again, everything the older woman did was unexpected.

Rosé had gone out of her way to trick her into getting a dress, and even the accompanying accessories and shoes for it. She had also paid for everything. Denali had tried to stop the older woman from doing so while trying to figure out how to pay for it all, but there hadn’t been any room to argue when Rosé had said that the bill had already been settled, bundled together with her own suit.

Any attempts to find out the cost had been thwarted when Rosé had all but thrust their purchases into Denali’s arms and practically manhandled her out of the boutique, much to Nicky’s amusement, and into her car where she had driven the slightly fuming blonde home.

———

2 days ago.

Denali was still miffed by the time Rosé had driven around the corner and was nearing where she lived. She still couldn’t believe how she had somehow let herself be swept away by the whirlwind that was her boss, and how Rosé had managed to purchase an entire outfit for her that was probably the equivalent of at least two entire years’ worth of rent. Maybe even more. She didn’t want to think about it.

Rosé slowed her car to a stop in front of the secretary’s apartment complex and put the car into park. There was a bit of a tense silence before Denali unbuckled her seatbelt, moving to exit the car when she realised that she was unable to open the door.

It was locked.

“Nali?” Rosé probed.

Denali ground her teeth, taking in a deep breath to calm herself down before she said something she knew she would regret. Crossing her arms as she sat back in her seat, Denali glared at the dashboard and huffed. “I am not speaking to you.” She was only met with silence, and she could see Rosé frowning at the corner of her eye.

Right, Rosé was still her boss.

“I am not speaking to you respectfully, Miss McCorkell.”

There was another moment of silence before Denali heard a small chuckle, and that somehow only made her bristle a little more.

Why did it seem like no matter what she did, it only seemed to amuse Rosé?

“Baby-”

“Denali.” She bit back.

There was a small sigh before she felt fingers on her chin turning her to face Rosé, her hazel eyes looked even brighter from the early evening streetlights. It took all of Denali’s self control not to stick her tongue out childishly at the older woman. She’d probably laugh at Denali more if she did that anyways.

“Would it really be so bad to be my plus one for the benefit, Denali?” Rosé asked, purposely dragging out the syllables of her name, causing Denali to shiver just a bit, something that did not escape Rosé’s notice.

Light fingers trailed up from her chin to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and Denali struggled not to blush, to hold on to her already fading anger. She didn’t want to let herself be led by her feelings, the ones that she was trying so hard to shut down because of how inappropriate they were. How inappropriate this whole thing was.

“Yes, it would be.”

Rosé could sense the chink in Denali’s armour and tutted as she playfully tapped Denali on the cheek.

“Don’t make me threaten to drag you kicking and screaming just to be my partner, because you know I will.”

Denali blinked, staring at Rosé in disbelief.

No.

No way would she actually do that.

“I would much rather save your screaming for something else.” Rosé added with a wink.

Gaping at her, Denali swatted Rosé’s hand away as she laughed at the blonde’s expression.

“Miss McCorkell!”

Rosé grabbed her hand before Denali could pull it away, squeezing it lightly.

“It’s Rosé, remember?”

Denali shut her mouth, swallowing hard when Rosé drew their linked hands closer to her, brushing her lips against her knuckles. “Please?” The redhead whispered against Denali’s skin, and Denali found herself rendered speechless by the look in her eyes.

A look she didn’t want to think too hard into.

There was a beat of silence, of Rosé stroking the back of Denali’s hand with her thumb as she looked back at her, lips brushing against the skin of her knuckles again.

She knew that she had already won.

“..fine.” Denali finally acceded as she pulled her hand back, cheeks tinged pink at their exchange.

Rosé’s lips spread out into a grin, and Denali had to bite back one of her own at how bright the other woman’s expression was. “But only if you pick me up!” She interjected. “I am not taking public transportation in that dress, nor an Uber just for this stupid event.”

Rosé laughed, one brow raised.

“Stupid event?”

Denali finally smiled back at that.

“Respectfully stupid event.”

———

Present day.

Denali sighed for the millionth time that day, setting her brush down. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful, and it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it. It was just hard to believe that someone like Rosé would go out of their way to do something like this for her.

Looking back at her reflection, she carefully tucked a loose curl behind her ear before getting up to put her dress on. Just as she was reaching for the hanger, she heard the buzz of her door bell. Looking at her bedside clock, she frowned.

Rosé was early.

Not wanting to keep her waiting, Denali grabbed a satin bathrobe and threw it on as she went over to open the door. Flipping the lock, she threw the door open and gulped internally at the sight before her.

Rosé was dressed in a sleek black power suit. The blazer stretched across her shoulders and was cinched at her waist, the lapels thin and neckline plunging with nothing beneath the blazer, showing off her collarbones and the curve of her breasts. The sleeves were pushed up, revealing tattoos on her forearms that Denali had only seen glimpses of before. The pants fit Rosé’s legs perfectly and showed her wearing shiny patented red stilettos.

Snapping her gaze back up to Rosé’s face, she saw how the woman was smirking at her, clearly having caught Denali checking her out. Rosé gave Denali a once over of her own, her gaze lingering on her bare legs.

“I don’t think that’s the dress I got you, but I must say you look cute in it.”

Pointedly ignoring her statement, Denali opened the door wider to let Rosé in, before shutting the door and flipping the lock.

“Right, just give me a minute to get dressed.”

Rosé’s eyes glinted at that.

“Do you need my help again?”

Ignoring the less than innocent thoughts in her mind, Denali bit her tongue and smiled. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve figured out how to do it on my own this time.” Rosé looked almost disappointed at that, causing Denali to let out a small giggle as she went back to her room to get dressed.

———

Denali sat at the back of the town car that Rosé had rented, feeling nervous as she unconsciously picked at her manicured nails.

She was growing anxious as they got closer to the venue, unsure of what to expect. This was a whole new world for her. Working in S. Child, a top tier law firm, was already a big step forward and something she hadn’t expected to ever get to actually do at 23, but going for an event like this? A major event like this as a managing partner’s date? This was something else altogether.

Usually Rosé would bring beautiful models or wealthy business partners, anyone of that class and calibre, but to have someone like Denali? A nobody like her? She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to behave, what she was supposed to do. What if she did something wrong? Embarrassed herself by saying the wrong thing? Cost Rosé potential business relations with her inexperience with events and networking? Denali was feeling way out of her element.

Why did she say yes to this in the first place?

“Hey.”

Her mind stopped racing when she felt a warm hand settle on top of her forearm and squeeze it reassuringly. Blinking, she turned to find Rosé looking at her, her usual smirk gone and instead a comforting expression on her face.

“You’ll be fine, Denali. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Denali swallowed, her anxiety still present. “But what if I say the wrong thing? What if I do something that embarrasses you?” Chuckling lowly, Rosé stopped Denali from picking at her nails any further by separating her hands and holding them in her warm ones.

“First off, baby, where is that feisty little angel that loves to argue with me? There’s absolutely nothing you need to worry about. Second, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. I wouldn’t have kept you all these months if you were incompetent. Lastly, look at yourself. You’re gorgeous, and I am so lucky to have you with me tonight.”

Denali blushed, speechless at what Rosé had just said. She hadn’t expected her to say all those things at all. The blonde smiled weakly at her, turning her hands over to squeeze Rosé’s hands back in silent thanks.

Rosé smiled back at Denali, lacing their fingers together as the car rolled to a stop. When the driver got out and opened the door, Rosé slid out of the car, holding on to one of Denali’s hands as she guided her out. For a moment, the blonde was blinded by flashing lights as cameramen start taking their picture, something that she had forgotten would happen.

Sensing her discomfort, Rosé wrapped an arm around Denali’s waist and pulled her close, guiding her down the red carpet, thumb rubbing soothing circles on her waist.

When the two of them finally stepped into the ballroom where the benefit was held, Denali was immediately struck dumb at how beautiful and elegant everything looked.

Everything seemed to gleam, shining and glittering with opulence. The white marble floors looked as if they had been buffed and polished, tapestries hung on the walls the the soft melody of a live pianist could be heard under the chatter of the equally regal looking people in the room.

Denali gulped, caught between wanting to stay glued to the spot or bolting out of there. As if reading her mind, Rosé gently tugged her into the sea of people, her arm a stable anchor around her waist. She could feel the curious stares of people wondering who it was that Rosé had as her partner for the evening, but Rosé’s encouraging words echoed in her mind, giving her that little bit of courage to straighten her back and not shrink away from those eyes.

The evening passed in a blur for Denali. Throughout the benefit, she had stuck by Rosé’s side. While she was talking to business partners, Rosé never ignored her, always pulling her into the conversation, introducing her as her partner, not her secretary. Denali would smile charmingly and listen, and even though sometimes she felt a little out of place, Rosé would always assure her with little touches.

She took care of Denali, passing her flutes of champagne, offering her little canapés to try, always checking in with how she felt and never once left her side.

It wasn’t long before the other managing partners drifted over. Lagoona was alone and Jan had someone familiar by her side. Denali’s eyes widened a little when she recognised the French woman next to Jan as they made their way over to Rosé and her.

“Fancy seeing you two here Rosé, Denali.” Lagoona greeted, smiling warmly at the both of them. Denali felt herself smiling back, the almost motherly aura that Lagoona had easing any worries she had about what the other managing partners would say when they saw her with Rosé.

“Goona, Jan.” Rosé replied with a smile of her own.

Jan rolled her eyes. “Why are you both so formal? Loosen up! It’s a party isn’t it?” Denali had to bite back a laugh at Jan’s enthusiasm. Nothing seemed to bring her down, which was refreshing in such an uptight crowd. Jan’s partner laughed, drawing the other woman closer to her side.

“Now mon amour, you know this isn’t that kind of party.” Nicky faced them, eyes bright as she looked over the two of them and nodded in approval at their appearances.

“Good evening Rosé, Denali.”

“Hello Miss-“

“No Miss, just call us by our names, Denali. We’re not in the office after all. And besides you’re here as Rosé’s partner, not our employee.” Lagoona playfully admonished, making Denali laugh a little.

“Alright… Lagoona.” She relented, though a little hesitantly.

The grouped chattered for a while, with Jan delivering quick quips and Rosé a few playfully snide remarks, before a silence fell over the room as the pianist stopped, then a full band came on and smooth jazz started playing. Rosé winked at Denali as she excused the both of them from the group and led her to the dance floor.

Placing her hand on Denali’s hip and holding the other hand, the two of them swayed to the music surrounded by a sea of people. The blonde felt herself relaxing into Rosé��s hold, the food and champagne she had consumed warming her belly and also due to the fact that Rosé made her feel safe.

“So how was it, being on this side of the fence?” Rosé asked as she slowly whirled them round the dance floor, her eyes never leaving Denali’s as they crinkled from the smile on her face.

“It’s alright. Can’t complain about the food, though it is a little tiny. Champagne is good too.” Denali shrugged playfully as she let herself be led through the dancing crowd.

Rosé grinned, a glint in her eye. “And what about the company?”

“The company?”

“Yes, how has the company been? Lovely? Entertaining?”

Denali smiled, catching on to what she meant. “Well, I suppose it’s been okay.” She replied jokingly.

Rosé pouted at that. “That’s it? Just okay?”

Denali couldn’t help the feeling of fondness welling up inside of her when she saw the other woman’s face and how playful she was being. It was always so nice seeing this softer side to her.

“I mean I can’t complain.”

Rosé spun Denali out, then pulled her closer, one of her arms now wrapped around her waist instead. “Well I think that mine has been wonderful, charming and rather witty. In fact, she’s been absolutely stunning.”

Denali’s heart skipped a beat at that, and at their close proximity. “Really? Has she now?” The blonde stuttered.

Rosé smirked, catching how Denali was starting to flush just a little. “Of course. The only complaint that I have though is that I have yet to hear her say my name the entire evening. She’s called every other person by theirs, but not me.”

Denali couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. After all these months, Rosé had been practically pestering her to stop calling her Miss McCorkell, and Denali had barely budged except for that one time when she had sent her home.

“You really have a thing for wanting me to say your name, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say it was you, did I?”

“Well then, if you’re not referring to me, then I guess I’ll just keep calling you Miss McCorkell then.” Denali teased, the dimples on her face deepening as she smiled.

There was a flash of something in Rosé’s eyes and she drew Denali closer to her, their faces now barely inches apart.

“Come on, Denali. Please? You don’t want to make me to beg, do you?”

Denali swallowed, feeling as if her heart was now in her throat. Rosé was close, so close that she could almost count every freckle on her face, could feel the warmth building between them.

“Please, Nali?” Rosé urged, her voice low and doing things to her.

She bit her lip, fighting the blush that was threatening to flood her cheeks before finally replying.

“Okay.”

Rosé’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Okay..?”

Denali felt her breath shorten as the distance between them closed even more.

“Okay… Rosé.”

Rosé’s hold on her waist tightened as she tilted her head, her lips brushing against the shell of Denali’s ear, causing her to shiver.

“That’s my girl.”

———

Something seemed to shift between the two of them since that night. Before then their relationship had been almost strictly professional, or as professional as Denali tried to make it, but it was now more casual, more playful.

Denali no longer called her Miss McCorkell, instead calling her by her first name, and that somehow made Rosé smile more. She still teased Denali, but it was different. There was a certain lightness to it, and Denali was more reciprocal with it, playing along with Rosé. She still kept things professional. There was nothing untoward or below board, and there seemed to be a tentative friendship of sorts.

Or at least that’s what Denali told herself.

Rosé could have her pick of anyone, so there was no way that she would be aiming for someone like her.

After all she was just her secretary, and nothing more.

Wasn’t she?

Friends would drop by each other’s desks to banter with each other, pay compliments to each other and tease each other, right?

Friends would bring friends out for lunch, like how Rosé seemed to pull her out of the office for lunch whenever they weren’t swamped with work, and friends would drive friends home if things got late and it wasn’t exactly safe to take the train home, right?

And the casual way that Rosé seemed to touch her, brush her hair behind her ear, tap her on the hand, hold her by the wrist, those were things that friends did too, right?

Right?

———

“Psst, come on Nali! Let’s go.”

Denali looked up from her laptop, pausing mid keystroke.

“What?”

Kandy looked around almost comically then grabbed Denali’s handbag, taking her phone from her desk and shoving it into her bag, ignoring how Denali let out a “Hey!”.

“I’m getting us out of here before your boss kidnaps you for lunch again. I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks now on the count of her always stealing you away before I can. Now come on!”

Denali laughed as she shut her laptop and followed Kandy out of the office. “Relax Kandy. She has a lunch meeting today, so you can have me all to yourself.”

“Good, because girl you have some tea to spill.”

“Me?” Denali asked as they stepped out of the office building and towards the cafe around the corner that she and Kandy loved to frequent. “I don’t have any tea to spill.”

Kandy gave her a look. “Right, no tea. Sure. Also, why am I still holding your bag?” She thrust Denali’s bag at her as they entered the cafe, causing the blonde to yelp.

“I swear I don’t!”

“Less talk, more ordering first. As much as I need that tea, I need to get me some lunch too.”

They quickly placed their orders and were sat with their food at a corner of the cafe in no time, having been lucky enough to grab a table before the lunch crowd flooded the place.

Denali peeled the wrapper from around her sandwich as Kandy bit into hers and let out a moan of satisfaction. Quickly chewing and swallowing, Kandy finally spoke.

“Okay, now spill! Are you or are you not banging Miss McCorkell?”

Nearly spitting out her first bite and dropping her sandwich onto the table, Denali stared at Kandy like she had grown an extra head.

“WHAT?!”

Kandy looked at Denali as if she was stupid.

“Girl, you heard me. Are you or are you not banging-“

“God damn it, Kandy, I heard you the first time!” Denali interrupted, shoving her hands over Kandy’s mouth in a bid to silence her. “And no, I am not banging Rosé. Why do you keep asking me that?”

Kanye rolled her eyes and pushed Denali’s hands away. “Because one, since when has she been Rosé and not Miss McCorkell? Two, you’re always together now and three, she’s been driving you home hasn’t she? So is it your place or hers?”

Denali sputtered indignantly. “I swear I’m not- There’s nothing going on between us!” She hissed, noticing the curious glances coming their way.

Kandy raised a brow, clearly not believing her.

“Sure, I believe you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

Denali groaned and slumped into her chair. “I’m really not. We’re just becoming friends, that’s all.”

“Friends that want to bang each other.”

Denali scowled, grabbing a stray bit of lettuce on the table and tossing it at Kandy. “I don’t want to bang her.”

“Well it sure as hell looks like she wants to bang you.” Kandy said, winking at her. “Also, half the office has bet that the two of you are already screwing.”

“Seriously?!”

———

Denali had been walking from the copy room and towards Rosé’s office, a fresh stack of transcripts for the managing partner’s latest case in her arms, still warm from the printers. She hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings as she counted the copies she had, double checking that she had printed them all when she felt a body roughly push past her, clipping her shoulder.

Papers scattered across the floor and Denali fell to the ground with a grunt of pain. She rubbed her ankle and looked up to find one of the associates from the bullpen glaring down at her.

It was one of the newer girls that had joined a month before. Denali had heard that she was the daughter of some wealthy family, and that she had her eye on Rosé. The girl had tried multiple times to arrange a meeting with her, wanting to try her luck and ask her to be her mentor, but Rosé had always brushed her off and had requested Denali to rebuff her every time she tried, which she did, much to the other girl’s chagrin.

“Watch where you’re going next time, slut.” The girl snipped, her lips curled in disgust as she brushed her shoulder, as if she had come into contact with something dirty. “My clothes probably cost more than your measly pay, seeing as you’re nothing but a secretary here.”

Denali felt white hot anger shoot through her and she scowled. She hadn’t expected this kind of treatment from someone that she barely knew, though she should have known something like this would have happened sooner or later.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” The brunette girl smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Since you’re finally on the ground like the dirt that you are.”

Seriously? What was it with people these days? Denali curled her hands into fists. She was about to retort back when she noticed the smug look on the other girl’s face start to fall and the colour drain from her face. Blinking at her sudden change in demeanour, Denali was startled when she felt familiar warm hands on her shoulders.

“Denali, is everything alright?”

The blonde looked up to find Rosé bent protectively over her. Her voice might have been calm, but the expression on her face said otherwise with how her eyes looked dangerously still and her lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked at the other girl, who was now pale as a sheet.

“Denali?”

Denali gulped and nodded. Rosé looked down, clearly not believing her, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead she helped Denali up, noticing her wince when she put pressure on her left foot, which made the expression on her face darken even more.

Rosé turned to look at the other girl, snapping her fingers and pointing to the papers on the floor. “You, pick up this mess.” The other girl stared, unmoving.

“Now.”

There was a mad scramble as she moved about, picking up every piece of paper as Rosé pulled Denali to her side, letting her lean her weight against her, when the associate finally handed the slightly messy stack over to Rosé.

Rosé thumbed through the papers, giving it a cursory glance, before finally looking at the now shaking girl.

“Good, now clear out your desk.”

The girl gasped. “What?”

“Clearly you must be deaf or your level of comprehension is worse than a grade schooler’s. Listen carefully when I say this: You. Are. Fired.”

The girl promptly turned tail and ran, a sob could be heard as she fled the scene in tears. Staring after her for a moment, Rosé turned back to look at Denali, her expression softening as she did.

“Here, hold this.” Rosé handed the papers to Denali, and before Denali knew it, had swept her into her arms.

“Wait a minute- Rosé, what are you doing? Put me down!”

“Not with your ankle like that and you still in those strappy heels. Now quiet down and let me take care of you.”

Denali blushed, fingers crumpling the papers in her grip as Rosé carried her to her office, clearly not caring if anyone else saw her secretary in her arms.

Moments later, she sat Denali on the settee in her office, placed the now slightly crumpled transcripts on her desk before going back to her secretary and kneeling down at her feet. Rosé batted Denali’s hands away when she attempted to remove her own heels, instead doing it for her with gentle hands, unhooking the thin straps and pulling the heel off Denali’s foot.

The skin of her foot was now a blush pink and the ankle slightly swollen. When Rosé held Denali’s foot and carefully pressed at the ankle, Denali couldn’t help the hiss of pain that escaped her lips. Rosé frowned.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

Denali shook her head vigorously.

No. No way was she going to the hospital.

“No.”

Rosé frowned.

“No?”

“There’s no need to, it’s just light sprain. Besides, it’ll heal on its own.”

“Denali.”

“Please don’t make me.”

Rosé looked at Denali, looked at the slight fear that she tried to hide, then sighed. “Fine, but only if you let me wrap it.”

“I can wrap it myself.” Denali tried to protest, but stopped when Rosé gave a look. “Fine.” She conceded, folding her arms across her chest to show her displeasure. Rosé rolled her eyes with a smile as she grabbed the first aid kit she kept in her office.

“Ever the stubborn one, aren’t you baby?”

That evening, Rosé drove her home after work, and when she insisted that she was going to start driving Denali to work too, she couldn’t bring herself to argue or say no, not when the care and concern showed so clearly on Rosé’s face.

Denali knew then that she was in trouble because the blurred lines that she had tried vainly to ignore were now starting to blur even more.

[staywritten]

Over&Over│Seo Changbin│III

Over&Over│ Chapter III

Synopsis: Loving Changbin was either than breathing, but why was it so hard to accept that he can love you just as you love him. Why do you always questions your own self worth. What were you supposed to do when he went on an arranged marriage meeting?

Genre: Non idol au, fluff, angst, hurt comfort, smut

Word Count: 1604

Part I PartII 

Masterlist

Jisung groaned as his phone rang, the one night he actually falls asleep early and Changbin decided to call him. “What man? I’m sleeping- wait what?” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes before crawling out of bed. “You did what?”

And that was how Jisung found himself wandering around town looking for you, it was getting pretty late. Changbin was only worried because you blocked his number and had no way of making sure you were ok. Jisung walked inside your job and walked over to Chaeyoung. “Is she here?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she glared at him. 

“Look Chaeyoung, this isn’t my drama. I’m only a bystander, and yet I had to get out of my bed, run halfway across town just to make sure she’s ok so could you like cut me some slack here?”

“It’s fine” you walked out from the back and sighed. 

“Thank God you’re ok” he pulled out his phone to text Changbin. 

“If you text him, I’ll break your arm.” Jisung raised his hands in retreat. “Fine fine, since you two dragged me in the middle of this can someone at least tell me what’s going on.” he opted taking a seat.

You leaned against the bar top. “How about you tell me what Binnie told you?”

“He just told me he fucked up, and he was worried about you.” 

“That’s it? You got out of bed to look for me all because Binnie said he fucked up?” you raised a brow. 

“Yes and no. I mean he’s my best friend, I’ve gotten out of bed for less. And you’re my friend too, and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you either.”

You sighed shrinking into yourself. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… I’m just upset…. Binnie doesn’t usually lie to me… He went to an arranged marriage meeting...and he hid it from me...it doesn’t matter that he rejected her. He shouldn’t have it…” 

“I’m sure he didn’t want you to overreact or be sad overthinking it”

“Imagine how I feel now? I It’s so hard acting like everything is ok… Acting like our very obvious class difference isn’t there…” your eyes began to water. “I’m just a bartender… my family has nothing but debt and a farm…” you wiped away the stray tears that fell. “Everyday I wake up next to Changbin it feels like a dream. He’s so perfect and kind and I know this is temporary… it’s only a matter of time before his family makes him marry someone else...or that he realizes I’m nothing… I have nothing… I can give him nothing… That he’s gonna meet someone pretty, smart, more charming...and he’s gonna get bored of me an leave.” you choked back a sob. “That he claims he didn’t tell me about this meeting for my sake because he doesn’t want me to worry…. But I’m always worried…” you covered your face. “I’m always so scared….”

Jisung’s eyes softened as he gently rubbed your shoulder. He called your name so softly, his own eyes watering at just how broken you looked. “How long have you been feeling like this…? Have you ever told Changbin-Hyung?”

You just shook your head, you couldn’t bare to look at Jisung. You couldn’t bare to see the obvious pity you knew he had for you.”

“How could I tell him…”

“Because it’s not just your burden to carry” a familiar voice echoed from the door way. Changbin stood, heaving heavily covered in sweat. 

Your head shot up looking over at him, you quickly tried to cover the fact that you were crying. Shooting Jisung a glare. “You called him?!” 

He shook his head and raised his hands again. “It wasn’t me! I swear.”

“I called him” Chaeyoung leaned against the backroom. “You two have a lot to talk about...And running away isn’t going to help. Rather you fix this, or break up...you need to talk.” she sighed “Jisung, c’mon let’s give them some space for a bit”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice” Jisung hopped up following Chaeyoung out.

“Please don’t run away again…” He took a step closer to you, hesitant and slowly. Almost like he was approaching a wounded animal. His eyes were soft, brows furrowed. “Baby...please…” He took a seat at you across the bar. 

Your eyes were wide, pupils darting to look at everything. You were scared, your anxiety getting the best of you. It didn’t happen often but when it did he was usually the only one who could calm you. “Breathe Baby… deep breath…” he held your hand lacing his fingers with yours. “It’s ok… It’s ok…” he cooed. “You don’t have to put up a strong front for me…” he tried to cover it, but the hurt was so evident in his eyes. His heart broke that you were so easily able to share all your concerns with Jisung. “Do you want me to go first...or should you…?”

“You…” you mumbled, your gaze never leaving his; hands laced between your fingers. 

He took a deep breath. “I love you… more than anything or one in my life… I would do anything to make you happy.” He rubbed your hand with his thumb. “I made a mistake… My sister arranged the meeting because it was more so a business deal than anything else… I knew from the beginning that I would say no, and I fought to not go but...I could have fought harder…” his shoulders slumped. “It’s not Noona’s fault either… She wanted me to tell you… And I was going to but… I just didn’t want to worry you…” he sighed. “I’m so sorry…” 

Your eyes watered as you shook your head. “I’m just… so scared…”

“Don’t be scared… I love you and I’m never going to do anything to make you doubt that.” he tilted your chin to look at him with his free hand. “Baby… I’m going to meet a lot of people in my life… a lot of women. And no one will ever be better than you… I will pick you over and over and over again… Because that what it means to be in a relationship… It’s picking the same person every day of my life.” he smiled softy. “And for as long as you let me, I’ll continue to pick you…” he cupped your cheeks gently, gazing into your eyes with that warmness that always made you feel safe. “Can you forgive me?”

You nodded attempting to choke back your tears. Despite all your insecurities, despite your anxiety he really was your home. “C’mere…” you moved out of his hold to move around the bar, and run into his arms. He pulled you into his chest, bundling you as close as possible. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s ok…” you gripped the front of his t-shirt, your fingers still shaking. Looking up at him he pulled you into a kiss. His lips moving gently against yours as he deepened the kiss. The bitterness of liquor on your lips, and desperation on his tongue. 

You weren’t even sure of how you made it back home. You refused to leave his arms, refused to break the kiss. You needed him.

Stumbling into your apartment, your back hit the mattress as he pinned you under him. His mouth leaving sweet kisses on your skin. His hoarse voice groaning your name over and over like a prayer. 

His whole life he’s never had to want for anything, and he recognized that he’s never had to work too hard for much. But you were the single most priceless thing in his life, and he’d never stop working to prove to you how much you deserved to be happy. 

You gripped his back, nails raking along his skin as he pumped into you. Your legs hooking around his hips, holding him closer to you as you moaned. “B-Binnie please…” your eyes clenched in pleasure. 

He pulled back just slightly to get a good look at you. Your body convulsing from pleasure, lips parted as you begged, body flushed and warm all from him. He brushed your hair out of you face, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “I love you so much…” he whispered. 

You looked up at him, biting down on your lip as you tried to calm your racing heart. “You’re my whole world…” you threaded your fingers through his hair, brushing them against his scalp. 

He gave you that lazy smirk of his before grabbing something from the side table. He’d been trying to figure out the perfect moment to propose. Big dinners, events, huge moments with your families. It all felt off and he always lost his nerves. But in this moment here. Just the two of you lost in one another. This was the moment he was looking for. He grabbed the ring from the side table. “There’s still so many ways I want to love you… so many things I want to learn about you...And if you’ll have me… I want to spend our whole lives doing it…”

Your eyes widened as you looked at the beautiful diamond ring, words escaped you. Your eyes watered before you nodded pulling him into a kiss. He chuckled kissing you back, showering you with tiny pecks as he pulled away to slip on the ring.  

There wasn’t much that could be done about your anxiety or insecurities. A life time of trauma wasn’t going to be resolved in a single conversation. But he sure as hell was going to work hard to at least reassure you everyday that he loved you.

End.

Mini series complete. I hope you guys enjoyed that and special thanks to @soobinsmile ❤️❤️❤️

∘Tags List:

@sassystay-bunny​ @skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo @tonfilm @soobinssmile

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 19

If you're new: this is my procrastination fic. It is what I drabble around with when I'm being my worst self, and ignoring all my other WIPs and responsibilities! Enjoy!

X

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

=

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Delilah inhaled deeply, stirring suddenly out of slumber. Her eyes barely opened and focused on a shadow in front of her before the scream ripped out of her throat. Loki sat up beside her, daggers brandished and in search of blood, eyes wild and unfocused.

"For fuck's sake, Bucky! What the hell!?" Delilah shrieked, throwing pillows at the shadowed figure. For what it was worth, he looked apologetic for having nearly given her a heart attack. She did not, however, appreciate the fact that the only thing between Bucky and her naked form was 800 threads of black Egyptian cotton she was holding up with her left hand. Or the fact that he had found them asleep in Loki's quarters. Or that he found them naked in Loki's quarters. They had made it a point to be careful, and yet here they were.

"Sorry, Li. You didn't answer your phone."

"What's up?" She asked, once her heartbeat had gone back down. Loki groaned, falling back onto the pillows to slumber.

"There's a situation, we're going off on a mission. We were hoping we could borrow him," he replied, jutting his jaw out at Loki, who turned his eyes to stare curiously at the Winter Soldier. "It's that group Dwyer was part of–"

"And you want to take Loki? On a mission?" Delilah glanced to her right, cutting across the calculating green gaze piercing the dark. "He's clear for it on my end, but you might want to, you know, ask him."

"You in? Two days, tops. We're just raiding a warehouse." Bucky stared expectantly. "Strange could use some magic back-up."

Loki narrowed his eyes at Bucky before he sat back up, turning his gaze at Delilah. A hand rested on her bare back, sending a shiver down her spine. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"I have Einherjar and this," she replied, tugging at the silver chain around her neck. "And about a million different daggers. It would only be two days." She shrugged, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes with the heel of her right hand. "Do you want to go?"

"I'd like to assist, yes."

"Good. Wheels up in one hour." He left before the other two could respond.

Loki took care dressing. It had been a while since he had pulled on any clothes that weren't Midgardian in fashion or design. Even for training, he had gone for Earthly training garb, weighing himself down with discs to mimic his armor. He had not felt the need to parade around in his royal dress, and at current moment he debated whether he wanted to break the streak.

The simpler battle leathers hung in his wardrobe fit comfortably. There were no flashy embellishments or trinkets–just leather and magic in black and green, layered and spelled to keep the better part of injuries at bay. Delilah had insisted on helping, despite the fact he could spell his armor on faster than he could explain how each piece fit. Still, there was something soothing about her, still naked from the night before, lacing up his vambraces after a little direction. They had ended up having to refasten his cuisse after a lone brush of her fingers down his chest had caused him to all but rip his trousers off and sink into her warmth.

"Are you nervous?" She asked, sitting cross-legged in bed after summoning the energy to dress. The jeans and T-shirt she wore were no less appealing than her bare skin, so he tore his eyes away before another re-doing of his armor was needed.

"Only about leaving you unattended. Norns know what could happen when I'm gone." The notch that formed between his brows confirmed his concern, but Delilah was quick to brush it aside. Not to mention, she could feel his anxiety as easily as her own.

"I'll be fine. Just hurry up back to me, OK?" Loki nodded, dropping to his knees before her and making a point of kissing her so thoroughly he could sculpt her lips from memory. "Let's go. It's almost time."

"I love you," he said, knowing it would be impossible to say once they got to the helipad.

"I love you, too."

Sam let out a cross between a groan and a yell when they arrived at the helipad ten minutes later. "Frickin' finally! How long did it take you to tear this fool away from a damn book?" Both Loki and Delilah were confused but tried not to show it in their expressions. "Also, why are you in the library at 3 am? Do you have nothing better to do?"

Loki rolled his eyes, looking nonplussed. "Some of us knowhow to read, Falcon," he sassed before cutting his eyes at Delilah. Delilah, however, was mouthing a quiet thank you to Bucky, who shrugged.

Stephen poked his head out of the Quinjet, watching Loki cast one last longing stare at Delilah before marching past him onto the ship. Strange rolled his eyes, frowning at the woman. "Oh, come on! I thought you were better than that!"

"Lower your expectations, Strange. We're all trash," she joked, rolling her eyes just as petulantly. "I want you all back in one piece, OK? Be safe!" She watched Sam, Strange, and Bucky pack into the jet. Loki lingered by the doors as they closed and offered a half-wave that she returned before they had slipped through a portal Strange had evidently created.

--

"Delilah." There was no answer as Pepper waved a hand in front of the other woman's face. "Lilah. Lilah! Lilah! LILAH!"

Seemingly snapping out of it, Delilah turned her eyes at the redhead with a frown. "Did you say something, Pep?"

"Like twenty minutes worth of something, yeah," she joked, closing the files on Delilah's desk with a sigh and pushing them aside. "How long has it been, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know that face. I invented that face." Pepper leaned forward, propping her elbows on the desk. "How long since he left on mission, Li?"

Color rushed to her cheeks, and she slumped in her chair despite the desire to deny the accusation. It was no use. She was distracted and jumpy ever since the mission had gone on radio silence. Ever since she felt Loki's last emotion tugging at her through space. "It'll be twenty-nine hours… now," Delilah replied, glancing at the minute hand of the clock on the opposite wall.

"I would say that the waiting is the worst part, but… that's not true," Pepper admitted, eyes softening.

Delilah sighed, not knowing whether to feel better or worse. She had never considered the possibility of anything going wrong. It sounded ridiculous. "I'm not worried. Quick warehouse raid. Two days."

"Oh, you sweet innocent child." Lilah shuddered at the implication behind her expression. "Always add two days to whatever estimate they give you. Always expect them to come home with significantly fewer limbs. Don't watch the news."

Delilah had heeded Pepper's warning. For the most part. She had added extra time to their time away since the team had not shown any signs of returning after 48 hrs. Missing limbs weren't really a concern to Loki, who somehow cheated death an extraordinary number of times. After nine days of no information, however, she had succumbed to the temptation to turn on the news.

"We're coming to you now, live, from the scene of the battle. Early yesterday afternoon the underground movement known as PURITY took arms against the superhero group formerly known as the Avengers. Local infrastructure has been severely damaged and the city evacuated, though local authorities have no estimate for when the area would be safe to return."

Delilah stared the screen, teetering on the edge of her seat as she watched mortar and brick explode in dusty clouds.

"Local witnesses report the sighting of one Loki of Asgard working alongside the superheroes. Loki is better known as the figure responsible for the 2012 attacks in Germany and New York City that ended in the invasion of the Chitauri aliens."

Out of the corner of the screen she could see a pair of golden horns stretching towards the sky in a gentle swoop. He was running, pumping his arms before throwing a dagger in his right hand, dispensing with a group of attackers in a single shot. The image shook and Loki whirled around on a dime. A building in the background was trembling on itself and out the bare front threshold, Sam ran out with a bundle in his arms, one metal wing bent and smoking. Loki glanced up, momentarily frozen, before he made off like a shot. With a twist of his hands Sam flew off to the side, leaving Loki with his arms up, trying to manipulate the building to keep it standing.

Bucky and Strange came out a few moments later, their arms equally laden with bundles that Delilah realized were children. She gasped, a hand covering her mouth–if to keep herself from screaming or crying, she didn't know. On the video, Loki's teeth were grit in effort and concentration, and as time trickled past, his whole body trembled, all in the name of allowing Sam another run inside.

Another building imploded nearby just as Sam skirted by. There was a shouted exchange that Delilah could not read as the air thickened with dust and destruction. She didn't notice that she had kneeled in front of the television set, mere inches away from the picture. With bated breath she watched him slowly turn, trying to get distance between himself and the collapsing structure. Out of the far left corner a group of attackers was closing in. They opened fire upon the god. He threw his mouth open in a roar and in a flash of lights, there was nothing left but rubble.

"Loki!" Delilah squeaked, tears running down her face. As the haze cleared, she could make out Bucky sorting through the stones while Sam and Strange tried to pull him away. Another group was closing in and they had to move. The signal flickered before it went dark.

Lilah wasn't sure how long she had stared at the blank screen for. "FRIDAY, where's the Quinjet?" She demanded as she pleaded for the transmission to restart.

The AI prickled overhead. "The Quinjet is in stealth mode and cannot be tracked."

"Don't give me that shit, FRIDAY. I know Tony patched that bug!"

"I don't have any information, Del. I'm sorry."

She growled, getting to her feet and pacing around the room. Her hands itched to toss things around, a reaction that was very much atypical for her, but there was a desperation in her soul that she could not logically explain away. Sure, Loki had survived far worse, but at what point did the lottery stop pulling up his lucky numbers.

The predatory stalking persisted into the early hours of the morning. She had not stopped to eat or drink, only to bark annoyedly at FRIDAY who continually told her that she had no information. The news channels had lost their feed. She was in the dark both metaphorically and literally. Her pacing had outgrown the expanse of both hers and Loki's apartments, and so she had taken to the hallways. Her stomping footsteps made it abundantly clear that she was not in the mood to talk to anyone. Even Tony's hologram promptly backed away when he naively asked what the matter was.

Around twenty minutes past four in the morning, on the eleventh day, Delilah happened to be walking past the cargo bays on her usual circuit. The complex doors opening caught her attention from several hallways away and she wasted no time in running towards the disturbance.

"You could be bleeding internally, you idiot! Go see Banner!" Delilah could make out Sam's voice yelling over the strained sound of a scuffle.

"Listen here, you pathetic worm. She thinks me dead–"

"And you will be if you don't get checked out!" Sam interrupted. As Delilah turned the corner, she could see Sam holding Loki in a chokehold, and doing his best to hold his own and try to wrestle the Asgardian onto the floor.

"Loki." The name dropped from her lips in a whisper before she had even noticed it. It had been exceedingly quiet, but she felt like, at that moment, he could have heard it across the Nine without issue. A wave of relief washed over her like a riptide that left her momentarily dizzy. They needed to work on controlling emotions through this connection, but that was a topic for another day.

The Asgardian sunk to the floor without any more hesitation and Sam panted. "Will you just tell her you're in love with her so I don't have to deal with your erratic ass every time we go on mission? I can't have you going from chill to feral at the drop of a hat!"

"Dude." It was Bucky who spoke, leaning against the jet doors with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He wiggled the fingers on his left hand and Sam focused on the silver band glinting in the nightlights.

The Falcon turned to Loki with a scowl. "Then, what the hell was that all about?"

"She thought me dead," he repeated, much gentler this time, having eyes only for Delilah. Leaving Sam to mutter angrily under his breath about having to deal with him being crazy for days while turning to unpack the Quinjet with Bucky.

Loki hissed, struggling to get his feet under him. Delilah found she had suddenly frozen to her spot, unsure as to whether or not this was real or if she had become so desperate to see her lover again that she had hallucinated. His right eye was swollen shut and his nose was most likely broken. Though his armor covered most injuries, he was holding his left arm at an odd angle and limping on the same side. Every time he stepped, he left behind a trail of blood droplets from an unknown source.

He still made it to her, close enough for her to close her fists around the loose leather chest piece to keep him from collapsing. Their lips connected in a short but intense kiss that tasted bitter and metallic to her tongue. When she focused, she noticed his mouth was full of blood and she hoped to any deity that would listen that it was his own.

"I need a medic quite urgently."

"FRIDAY, get Bruce to the Medbay."

"On it, boss!"

When Loki came to several hours later, the sun was streaming through the windows of the hospital and threatening to trigger a headache. Beside his cot, Delilah sat, slumped in her chair, asleep, looking about as tired as he felt. They really needed to control their shared emotions. A world away, he had felt the utter terror of when that damn building fell, pinning him down in the process. He felt the despair of thinking him dead, and he was sure she felt his desperate attempts to get back and prove that rumor incorrect. It wouldn't do for them to always have to deal with that. Still, he felt like he had earned the right to her feelings and didn't want to deprive himself of them, ever.

"Hey, you're awake!" Bruce exclaimed, and Loki drew a finger to his lips, gesturing towards Delilah. "Sorry," he continued, much quieter. "You're lucky you're not human or else you'd be pretty much a goner. You maxed out your nanobots treatment in an hour. You'll be out of commission for a while." He tapped at his tablet to page through his medical chart. "Barnes said you saved an orphanage."

"Yes, we did."

"No. He said you saved an orphanage," he corrected, glancing over his glasses.

Loki eased himself up with a hiss. "Yes, well. I am not overly fond of watching children die in a war they didn't ask for." He reached over for Delilah, brushing a curl out of her face with a smile. "Is she going to be alright?"

"She'll be fine. You're the one bleeding internally."

"I'm made of steel. She's cotton wool. I'm a lot more worried about her."

Bruce grinned knowingly. "A little sleep deprivation. She'll be good in a few hours." He replaced the tablet in the slot at the end of the bed. "Should I expect an invitation in the mail or…?"

Loki chuckled. "I'm more likely to shout it off the rooftops now that people know, if I'm honest." He shrugged, exerting as much seidr as he had left to float Delilah into his cot beside him. "I didn't think everyone would be this interested."

"We've learned to appreciate the little things." The giant man shrugged, smiling affectionately at how Loki tucked the girl into his side and wrapped her tight in blankets. "Get some sleep and recover so she can do the same." Loki nodded, snuggling down into the medical bed with a groan. "You did good, Loki."

"Thank you, Banner." Loki frowned at how heartfelt the sentiment became. He felt like, at some level, he was erasing some of the errors of his other self.

[out-of-jams]

Airplane Mode | Track 07: 21st Century Girl | jhs

Summary: Inspired by Love at First Touch by bagelswrites

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate in time, they starve to death.

So what happens when your soulmate is a world famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language?

Pairing: Hoseok/ FemOC

Word Count: 5.1k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: Explicit language. Anxiety. Somewhat brief depiction of a panic attack.

Words written in bold are spoken in Korean.

              Previous | Next | Track List |  Masterlist |

“It’s cold as hell.” Eunjae’s mumbled complaint passed through the black face mask pulled over her mouth and dissipated into the winter air.

With teeth chattering, she quickened her pace to keep up with the older woman next to her. Eunjae’s over the knee black boots clicked against the sidewalk and she took a moment to be grateful that they were only three inch stiletto heels. Even with the sleeves of the thick, red Supreme hoodie that she’d borrowed from Hoseok’s closet that morning covering her hands, she was still freezing.

There wasn’t much that she could have used from his wardrobe without looking like she was playing dress-up, so Eunjae did what she could. A small, cute black belted fanny purse that she’d designed months ago was hooked around her slim waist. With her silver hair loose down her back and tiny rings through her cartilage piercings, Eunjae was pulling off a very Ariana Grande-esque look.

She’d been lucky that while her clothes were nowhere to be seen, most of her shoes and accessories had been shipped out to Seoul early. So after digging through two boxes worth of various shoes, she’d found her favorite pair of boots. Even though Eunjae wasn’t necessarily self conscious of her short height, her footwear collection might say otherwise. Almost every pair she owned were either platformed or heeled. Though she did own the occasional regular pair of running shoes.

“Let’s go in here.” Eunjae barely got a warning from the woman walking beside her before she cut to the right and almost left Eunjae in the dust.

At eleven am on the dot that morning, the doorbell to Eunjae’s apartment rang, effectively scaring the hell out of her. She’d been in the bathroom inspecting herself in the foggy mirror, the steamy air from her recent shower billowing out into the hallway.

The sound had startled her so much that Eunjae’s hand jolted from where she’d been drawing on winged eyeliner. The brush jerked, leaving a huge black streak down her cheek, which she scrubbed at viciously as she stumbled to the door. Luckily, the bruises had faded completely from her skin due to the impromptu cuddling session in the car with Hoseok on the way back from the airport.

Unlike earlier that morning, there was only one ring of the doorbell as the person on the other side waited patiently. With sudden nerves invading her senses, Eunjae hastily ran a hand down the hoodie she converted into a dress. The hem fell a little lower than mid-thigh and she was grateful that her boots were tall enough to help prevent her from accidentally flashing someone.

Eunjae took a moment to take a deep breath before pulling open the front door. She wasn’t normally so nervous about meeting new people. In fact, she was actually pretty outgoing. But something about the whole situation just made her a bundle of nerves that she tried to hide behind the bright smile she pasted onto her face.

Standing on the other side of the door was a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. Though it was hard to tell for sure. The woman’s wavy black hair was cut into a fashionable bob that did well to accentuate her elf-like face. She was dressed business casual, with a white blouse underneath a black blazer, french tucked into a pair of jeans. The woman had on a pair of short white heels with a cross body purse hanging from her shoulders.

She gave Eunjae a polite bow of the head and extended her hand with a smile on her red painted lips. “Hello, Morales Eunjae-ssi. My name is Park Soyeon and I’m here to show you around Seoul.”

Soyeon’s soft, accented voice soothed Eunjae’s nerves and she reached out to take her offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” Soyeon brushed her hand through her short hair, the gold watch on her wrist glinting under the lights. “I work as an English interpreter for the company, so I’ve also been appointed to tutor you in Korean, if that is something that you’re interested in.”

With a hand still swiping the excess eyeliner gel from her face, Eunjae stepped to the side and waved the woman in politely. “Absolutely. Yes. Come in and please ignore the mess that is my face.”

Now, almost two hours later and a healthy amount of shopping to break the ice, Soyeon’s personality was beginning to emerge. The woman was professional, that was a given, but the more time the pair spent together, the more Eunjae discovered that the woman’s initial innocent appearance was far from true. Her energy was enough to rival Hoseok and despite being in her mid thirties, she gave off a very spirited vibe. And the woman loved to shop.

Eunjae found that out the hard way when she had to physically hold Soyeon back from dragging her into all the high end stores in Gangnam. While yes, Big Hit was paying to supply Eunjae with enough clothes and necessities to last until the rest of her belongings arrived in Seoul, she didn’t feel comfortable racking up a huge bill. Soyeon had pouted all the way to the less expensive, less high end designer stores. But she’d perked right back up at the cute displays in the windows. Apparently, Soyeon’s girlfriend was huge into fashion, which only served to prompt the woman into even more of a shopping fiend than normal, since their anniversary was fast approaching.

Sitting across from Soyeon at a corner table inside a cozy cafe, Eunjae sipped idly at the sweating glass of water in front of her. With one hand fingering the sleeve of her too big hoodie, the other tapped across the screen of her brand new iphone. That had been something that Eunjae decidedly couldn’t pass up on, since she needed it to communicate and all.

Soyeon had nearly run her down in the Apple store when Eunjae tried to pay for it herself. While she didn’t have a job, she still kept up a somewhat steady flow of income into her bank account. Sometimes Miles would invite her to costar in some of his YouTube videos (or she’d just invite herself over since she practically lived there anyway) and since he made so much revenue, he would split the profits with her. Despite explaining this to the interpreter who snatched her wallet, the woman refused to acquiesce. So Eunjae reluctantly let Soyeon swipe the black company credit card to purchase it.

The first app that Soyeon had insisted she download was something that everyone in South Korea had. The air in Seoul wasn’t always clean enough for the human body to inhale, so the app forecasted when and when not a face mask was needed in order to step outside. Hence the face mask currently pulled down below Eunjae’s chin.

“So I think after this, we head back to the company. Sound good?” Soyeon’s voice came out muffled as she chewed on the end of her straw. The iced latte in her plastic cup was almost completely drained with more ice than coffee left.

“Sure.” Eunjae closed out of the most recent text thread with Miles and set her phone on the table. “If you want.”

Soyeon paused in her vicious chugging to eye Eunjae over the rim of her coffee. The woman’s eyes were narrowed in thought and she pursed her lips as she stirred the remainder of her drink. “You nervous to meet the boys?”

Eunjae huffed a laugh and dropped her gaze to her cup, using the tips of her pointer fingers to push it back and forth across the table. “I’m just surprised you’re done shopping is all. You were like a tornado of fabric and credit cards back there. I thought they’d have to call in a SWAT team to stop you.”

“Uh huh.” Soyeon leaned forward on the table and placed her chin on her fists, lipstick stained straw pressed between her lips. “You have nothing to worry about. The boys will be nothing if not respectful.”

She reached out a hand to stop Eunjae’s fidgeting ones, pausing long enough for Eunjae to look up. “Besides, you barely speak Korean and not all of them completely understand English. What could possibly go wrong?”

With a playful roll of her eyes, Eunjae snorted in amusement and fell back against her chair. “That’s like, exactly what someone says right before shit hits the fan.”

“Whelp.” Soyeon shrugged, taking one last noisy pull of her drink. “What’s that weird English phrase you showed me earlier?”

Eunjae simply raised a brow in response, lips pursed in mirth.

Soyeon giggled before standing from her chair with a wink. “‘Ain’t nothing to it, but to do it.’”

“I regret showing you that video so much right now.” Eunjae groaned but followed the older woman’s lead, standing and shoving her phone into the purse around her waist.

The ride to BigHit Entertainment was spent with Eunjae anxiously playing with the sleeves hanging over her hands. Numerous bags stuffed with more clothes than she needed spread across the backseat in a multicolor rainbow of plastic. A radio station streaming Seoul’s most current popular music blasted from the car speakers. Soyeon had turned the volume up to an obnoxious level, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel along with the beat.

Eunjae sank down further in her seat, causing the top of the hoodie to bunch up closer to her nose. The faded scent of, well, Hoseokstuck to the fabric and she had to stop herself from burrowing into it. She felt strangely comforted by the smell in a way that she didn’t understand. Maybe it was just a soulmate thing? Or perhaps it was because he was the closest person that she knew in the whole country? Who knew. Which was a little sad in and of itself since she barely even knew the guy.

The closer she got to the company, the more her nerves came out to play. Eunjae tried to push the thoughts--the reality--of the situation to the far recesses of her mind for as long as possible. But now she was less than two miles away from coming face to face with the boy group that she’d been fangirling over for a while now. Not only that, but she would have to put all of her nerves, her doubts, her starstruck anticipation aside because her soulmate was J-Fucking-Hope.

What if the members of Bangtan hated her? What if, for some reason, they couldn’t get along? Where would that leave her with Hoseok? Would he grow to dislike her too? Eunjae didn’t want to imagine being rejected by the one person in the world that the universe decided to pair her with. She didn’t know if she could handle that.

Over and over, the thoughts played in a continuous loop in her head until she’d worked herself up into an anxious mess. With her bottom lip caught between her lips, Eunjae fiddled with the golden crescent moon shaped earrings in her lobes. She clenched her eyes shut and turned her focus back outward, grasping onto the closest thing to keep her grounded.

Some song from Red Velvet was blasting from the speakers and Eunjae let the lyrics flush the dangerous thoughts from her mind. She had a habit of doing that sometimes: working herself up with situations that always turned out to be way less of a problem than she’d feared. And Eunjae didn’t want to turn into panicking mess before she even stepped foot out of the car.

Just as she got her anxiety under control, Soyeon whipped the compact SUV up to a gated parking lot. The woman barely had to slow to a stop and flash her employee badge before the security guard at the gate let her in. The car maneuvered around the various filled spaced until Soyeon finally pulled into an empty spot. As she cut the transmission, Eunjae took one last steeling breath.

“Come on, kid.” The woman patted her shoulder comfortingly before she opened her door and slipped out.

The cold air from outside shocked Eunjae back to her senses and she scrambled out to follow. The stiletto heels of her boots clacked against the concrete parking lot as she followed Soyeon inside the building. For once, Eunjae was thankful for the cold because it forced her to pick up the pace to prevent herself from freezing to death.

Instead of taking the front entrance of the building, the parking lot led to a back entrance for what appeared to be employees only. Soyeon bounced on the toes of her shoes as she quickly slid her laminated employee card through the scanner at the side of the door. With a beep, it flashed green and the woman rushed to pull the door open. She barely gave Eunjae two seconds to scramble in after her to avoid being locked out.

White marble floors and beige painted walls greeted the pair as they slipped inside. Eunjae had been expecting some kind of grand, showy interior. There were absolutely zero pictures of the inside of the BigHit Entertainment building online, which left ARMY to speculate what it was actually like inside. What she hadn’t been prepared for however, was how normal it looked.

Where they entered looked like any normal office building. They were in a wide, open hallway with a bright green exit sign glowing above the door they’d entered. To the right was another door that led to a stairway that Eunjae presumed went all the way up to the top floor. The rest of the hallway was empty of life: no doors, no employees, nothing. Just a security camera perched on the ceiling with a red light slowly blinking in and out of existence.

Soyeon turned to Eunjae with a sigh of relief, most likely from having just escaped the biting cold. The puse dangling from her shoulder swung with the moment and Eunjae had to shuffle out of the way to avoid being hit. “Well, this is where we part ways. I have a lot of work I need to catch up on.”

Eunjae blinked in both shock and confusion, stuffing her facemask into the purse around her waist. “Wait, you’re just going to leave me here?”

A short laugh left Soyeon’s red painted lips, the sound bouncing off the walls. “Not--”

Before the woman could finish her sentence, the metal door to the staircase swung wide open. It hit the wall with a thud as whoever pushed it put too much force against it. A sheepish looking Hoseok poked his head out from the doorway and he checked to make sure he didn’t put a dent in the wall.

“--exactly.” Soyeon finished her statement with a smirk of amusement. Tilting her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow at the rapper. A string of rapid Korean left her lips and if her teasing tone was anything to go by, Eunjae could take a guess at what she was saying.

Hoseok’s eyes scrunched as he let out a loud laugh; a shrug lifting his slim shoulders. “Whoops?”

The words had barely left his mouth before his attention turned to Eunjae. Quicker than she could process, he scanned her from head to toe. His expression morphed into something unreadable, eyes darkening in the fluorescent light. But before she could try to discern it, his eyes flashed back to hers with a dimpled smile, hair pushed back from his forehead like he’d ran his hand through it repetitively.

“How was shopping? Good?” The question left Hoseok’s mouth carefully, like was was trying to make sure that he was translating the correct words.

As with every other time Eunjae found herself around the man, the corners of her lips pulled up into a smile. She was the type of person where the energy of others directly affected her own. While he wasn’t as goofy and loud as he was on camera in person, the man’s friendly disposition rolled off him in waves so strong she could almost feel it on her skin.

“Yeah. Very good.” Eunjae shoved her still cold hands into the pouch of her borrowed hoodie.

“Aw, my little protégé!” Soyeon’s icy cold fingers pinched one of Eunjae’s cheeks playfully, earning an annoyed nose scrunch. “You’ll be fluent in Korean before you know it.”

Soyeon, much to Eunjae’s benefit (or horror), had been throwing random Korean words and phrases at her all day. After making her repeat them a few dozen times, the woman would give her random pop quizzes at the most inopportune times. And if that wasn’t enough, Soyeon had the habit of sometimes abandoning Eunjae at a store counter to fend for herself (“Immersion is the best learning tool, kid.”). All-in-all, the woman’s teaching methods were completely abnormal, but Eunjae couldn’t say they weren’t a little effective.

“Yah.” Eunjae waved the Soyeon’s hand off with a pout. “You’re such a bully. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Sucks to suck, kid. Anyway,” Soyeon put a hand between Eunjae’s shoulder blades and pushed her towards an amused looking Hoseok. “Go hang out until the boss man sends someone to come get you two. Shouldn’t be too long, but also, who knows with how long business meetings usually last?”

The woman left no time for anyone to reply before she turned on her heel and strutted down the hallway. Pointing a finger at Eunjae from over her shoulder she added, “I’ll have someone drop those clothes off later today. And I’ll meet with you sometime either tomorrow or the day after. Seeya!”

All Eunjae could do was stare as Soyeon disappeared around the corner. She’d evaporated just as quickly as she’d appeared.

The sound of Hoseok clearing his throat brought her attention back to him and even with the added height of her boots, she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He nodded his head back towards the door to the staircase.

“After you.”

Murmuring her thanks, Eunjae stepped past him into the stairwell. It was just as empty as the hallway and the drab colored steps seemed almost endless, twisting up and out of sight. Turning back to Hoseok as he followed behind her, Eunjae raised a brow, half curious and half anxious. “Where to?”

“Studio. Everyone..,” Hoseok flashed her a reassuring smile, hands gesturing with his words. “Excited to meet you.”

Well if that didn’t send a jolt of nervous anticipation down Eunjae’s spine, she didn’t know what would. She wasn’t sure if she should be thankful that the rest of the members were excited to meet her or if she should feel more pressured to make a good first impression. With her finger pointed to herself, she squeaked, “me?”

Hoseok’s contagious laugh forced the tight muscles in her shoulders to relax a tad. He opened his mouth to respond, but before any words could make their way out, a loud rumble sounded from his stomach. His eyes widened and he looked down at his body as if he’d been betrayed.

“Hungry?” Eunjae stifled a giggle behind a sweater paw. It reminded her, however, that she had yet to eat for the day. The dread that had been weighing down her stomach all day had effectively chased away her appetite. Now though, it mingled with a twinge of hunger.

“A little.” Hoseok smiled sheepishly with a hand resting on his stomach like that would stop the sound from escaping again.

“Have you eaten?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Eunjae’s brows pinched in concern at the grimace on his face. Hoseok’s shoulders lifted a little in a shrug. “Tried.”

“But?” She urged.

“I..,” Hoseok’s nose scrunched as if the memory he was reliving was unpleasant. His head tilted to the side slightly, eyes raising like the words he was searching for were etched into the bottom of the staircase above them. “Got sick.”

Eunjae’s eyes widened at what he was saying. She quickly did the mental math in her head, counting the weeks since they’d initiated First Touch. The timeline just about matched up to the normal statistic of when food would become totally obsolete to the body. Since she hadn’t eaten anything that day she didn’t know if her body would react the same.

And she didn’t really want to test that theory.

Slipping a hand out of her hoodie pouch, Eunjae extended it out towards Hoseok. The movement pulled his gaze down to her outstretched hand and she wiggled her fingers with a small laugh at his questioning eyes. “I’d be a bad soulmate if I let you starve.”

His slender fingers intertwined with hers slowly, almost completely wrapping around her smaller hand. Any remaining tension in her body dissipated at the electric current that burst through her veins with the feeling of safety, warmth, home. With a flash of his dimples, Hoseok gave her hand a quick squeeze of thanks and turned to the stairs.

“This way.”

As they ascended the steps, Eunjae couldn’t help but silently thank the fact that the touch of a soulmate also took away the feeling of pain. While she was used to walking around in heels, the toes of her shoes were starting to pinch her feet and it would only be a matter of time before she had to change her confident strut into an awkward shuffle.

Hoseok pushed the metal door open once they reached the third floor and Eunjae followed him out into the hallway. The heels of her boots sunk into the soft carpet and she sent him a questioning look when his hand slipped from hers.

He simply nodded his head at the doors lining the length of the long hallway. Words embedded in the frosted glass doors read out the names of some of BigHit’s main producers. Hoseok threw a wink over his shoulder and held a finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

Eunjae just hummed in understanding. From what Sejin had said weeks ago at their initial meeting, the nature of her and Hoseok’s soulbond had to be kept on the downlow. She just wasn’t sure who was or was not informed. Did anyone outside of Bangtan and their management get to know? With the way Hoseok didn’t touch her as they walked down the hallway, Eunjae hazarded a guess that none of the producers knew.

The hallway was quiet except for the occasional sound of drums or piano keys drifting from the closed studio doors. Eunjae couldn’t help her inner fangirl from internally screaming. Where she was walking, Producer’s Row, was where all of Bangtan’s songs were made. Just a few feet away from her could be the key to their next big hit.

Lost in thought, Eunjae almost ran into Hoseok’s back as he stopped in front of one of the frosted glass doors. His lips quirked up in amusement and she had no warning whatsoever before he twisted down the handle. All she could catch were the letters spelling out MonStudio.

As soon as it opened, music poured from the room and spilled out into the quiet hallway. Eunjae couldn’t see anything past Hoseok’s tall frame and she took that moment to gather herself. That was it. The moment that she’d been preparing for all day. She was about to meet the members of one of the most famous boy groups in the world.

She didn’t get much time to prepare before Hoseok’s hand slid back into hers and he lead her into the room. Whether he was grabbing her hand to soothe the nerves wafting off her in waves, or to sate his hunger, Eunjae wasn’t sure. But she didn’t give it much thought because there was only so much her overwhelmed brain could process at once.

MonStudio, Kim Namjoon’s studio, wasn’t very spacious. The walls on either side of his desk were taken up by glass shelves displaying numerous amounts of bears and trinkets gifted from fans. There was a leather couch pressed up against the wall closest to the door and a small coffee table in front of it. The knee high table was littered with paper, some balled up haphazardly and others with words and sentences scratched out in black ink.

Taking up a seat on the couch hunched over a notebook furiously scribbling was one of Korea’s most famous rappers. With his blond hair pushed back by a thick headband, Min Yoongi paused in his writing to look up at the sound of their entrance. The end of the pen in his hand tapped a staccato rhythm against his pale cheek like he couldn’t contain the words it itched to spill.

The rolling chair that had been facing the desk across the room spun around as well. Eunjae was grateful for Hoseok’s hand in hers keeping her grounded against the starstruck feeling creeping up her throat. Kim Namjoon, in all his dimpled, long-legged glory greeted them with a smile.

His pressed a button on the computer keyboard behind him that caused the music spilling from the giant speakers on his desk to cut off. Namjoon’s hair glittered a dark grey underneath the lights of his studio. The baggy green sweater and beige cargo shorts he wore almost blended into the beige painted walls. It was just those two waiting in the room and Eunjae felt her fear dwindle a little at the fact that she wouldn’t meet all six members at once.

“She’s here?” Tilting his head, Namjoon tried to peer around Hoseok, who almost instantly moved out of the way.

Eunjae suddenly felt like she was on display. At the corner of her vision she could see Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to where Hoseok’s hand was wrapped around hers. An uncharacteristically shy smile tilted at her lips and she wiggled the fingers of her free hand in a wave. “I’m here. Hi.”

Hoseok gently pulled her farther into the room and motioned back and forth between her and the two other men in the room. “Eunjae, Namjoon-ah. Yoongi-yah, Eunjae.”

The use of the informal nickname didn’t seem to bother Yoongi as both him and Namjoon dipped their heads in a respectful bow. Both men spoke their greetings at the same time, Yoongi’s deeper voice blending in with Namjoon’s.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Namjoon’s English was perfect and Eunjae couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at the fact that he could translate between the four of them. Gesturing towards the couch that the eldest rapper was perched on, he smiled. “Please, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

Yoongi gathered the notebook in his hands and the stray pieces of paper scattered around him and shifted to sit on the floor at the other side of the coffee table. Eunjae’s eyes widened. “Wait! You don’t have t--”

“Too late!” Hoseok released her hand only to grab onto her shoulders and guide her to the now empty couch. She didn’t have time to argue as he dropped onto a cushion and pulled her down next to him.

Instead of taking her hand again, Hoseok simply threw an arm over her shoulders. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and she smiled in answer to his silent question. While he acted casual about the skinship between them, Hoseok repeatedly made sure that she was comfortable with it.

“So,” the sound of Namjoon’s voice brought her attention back to the other two in the room. Thankfully, neither of them made a comment about the fact that she was pressed into their best friend’s side. “How are you settling in?”

“I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet, to be honest.” Eunjae huffed a laugh, sinking further back into the comfortable couch. It was no wonder that the rappers would sometimes sleep in their studios if all of their couches were so plush.

“That’s understandable.” Namjoon’s golden cheeks dimpled. “It’s a pretty big change.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

Namjoon snorted in amusement and crossed one of his legs over the other, the chair beneath him rolling back a little at the movement. “Well if you ever need anything, you can come to any of us. We’ll try to help you the best we can.”

Eunjae could feel Hoseok’s warm stare burning into the side of her face as she gave her thanks to the grey haired man. Yoongi simply sat cross-legged on the floor, attention wavering between the conversation going on around him and the open notebook on the coffee table. The words begging to be etched onto the page conflicted with his desire to participate. That and the fact that the blonde wasn’t entirely comfortable speaking in English.

Hoseok spoke to Namjoon, the end up his sentence lilting like a question.

“Hobi-yah wants to know how old you are.” Namjoon translated for the rapper at her side.

Blinking at the question, Eunjae almost smacked her forehead at the realization. Korean manners were based a lot around how old somebody was, with more respect going towards those who were your senior. And she couldn’t recall ever telling Hoseok her age, so she wasn’t offended at all by the question. “I’m twenty-three.”

Hoseok made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded halfway between teasing and something else that she couldn’t decipher. He tapped a finger against his chest and hummed, “older.”

“I know.” Eunjae’s answer pulled a smile from his lips.

“Speaking of,” Namjoon rested a cheek against one of his hands, his forearms propped up on the chair’s armrest. Whatever he was about to say got cut short as the door the MonStudio echoed in a knock. All attention turned towards the figure on the other side of the frosted glass. “Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal Sejin in all his exhausted glory. The man sent an apologetic smile at the occupants in the room, finger pushing up the falling frame of his glasses. “Sorry to interrupt, but Bang PD-nim is ready to see these two.”

Whatever slight comfort that Eunjae felt within the confines of the cozy studio was wiped away almost instantly. The anxiety that had turned to a gentle simmer cranked itself all the way up, threatening to bubble over. She held it in though, pushed it down until it hid behind the small upwards tilt of her lips. Hoseok moving his arm from around her shoulders had her bracing herself for the inevitable.

She followed him as he stood from the couch, and with a few quick parting words to the other two men in the room, Eunjae trailed after Hoseok’s fleeting back.

Time to put on your big girl panties, bitch.

[amintyworld]

Overgrowth - Miracle Miraculous AU

A/N: HERE IT IS!!! I’ve been working on this for a while, and I can’t wait to share it with you all. Combining two of my favorite fandoms - It’s been honestly such a passion project, and I’m so happy with how it turned out. Note that Ladybug is Luckybug in this universe. - Minty

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day in Paris, and it turns into more of a Valentine’s mess than anyone expected. When a confession goes wrong, Thomas turns into Overgrowth, bent on getting revenge for his heartbreak by taking away everything the people of Paris love, and teaching the heartbreaker a lesson he’ll never forget.

Ships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Thomas x Samuel.

TW: Homophobia, pain, anxiety/panic, heartbreak, self-blame, implied mention of murder, cursing. (I think that’s everything, tell me if I missed any, as always!)

Roman Agreste slumped on his bed after he swiftly closed his door to his massive bedroom. Today was Valentine’s Day, and he couldn’t stop thinking of his Prince - Luckybug. God, he was so smart and so beautiful. He’d had fun at school, of course - Chloe had crooned over him, giving him gifts and presents throughout the day, and kissing his cheek obsessively. His friend, Logan, had finally pulled her away from him, the only one who really knew who he really was. 

Like anyone would accept that the son of Gabriel Agreste, the world-famous fashion designer, was gay.

Just today, Logan had pinched him when he almost slipped how he was into guys as he was talking to his friends about his crushes. Without him, he probably would have revealed his secret by accident long ago. 

But, his best friend didn’t exactly know all his secrets.

He sighed, groaning into his pillow, as his kwami, Plagg, flew out from the hiding place in his school bag. “Kid, you really need to be more honest with yourself.” He said, gnawing on a piece of his treasured camembert.

Roman groaned in his pillow in response, looking at his college of Luckybug in his pinboard next to his computer. He was so perfect - rugged purple locks, and focused determined green eyes…

No picture could capture the way the wind ruffled through his hair just perfectly, or the way the city lights made his green eyes sparkle like emeralds. He huffed in disapproval as he walked over to his television. His mind was filled to the brim with his Prince, and it was overwhelming. 

He needed a distraction. 

He flipped on the TV as Plagg perched himself on the top of the couch, looking at his dejected master and giving a sigh. “Hang in there, Kid.”

————————————————-

Virgil’s ears filled with My Chemical Romance as he sewed, focused on his task - Mr. Agreste had commissioned him to make Roman’s frivolous costumes for his performances. He had told him that the hat he made, the winner of his contest earlier in the year, was more of his son’s style. He couldn’t be bothered with making any designs that weren’t being professionally modeled and gave the job to Virgil instead. 

He insisted Roman’s performances were more of a hobby. Virgil was just happy to help his crush, and the smiles brought to Roman’s face was really all the payment he needed. 

Roman’s theatre group was performing Romeo and Juliet this weekend and needed the costumes soon for the dress rehearsal on Friday. Virgil was nearly finished - he just needed to add the details on the two main pieces.

He sighed as he sat up and walked to grab more thread and pins, looking over toward the dejected cookie tin on his desk. His best friend Patton had pushed him to make the heart-shaped treats days earlier - Virgil had made sure that they were chocolate chips with no nuts, as Roman had a nut allergy. Patton had even brought the tin just for the occasion. 

But, when he was at school…

“Oh my god, look at this Sabrina!” Chloe yelled as Virgil quickly hid the cookie tin behind his back. “Virgil Dupain-Cheng, with sweets for Valentine’s Day for my Romiekins!”

A small crowd began to gather behind Chloe, Roman well out of earshot. Patton stepped in between the two, angry. “Back off, Chloe.”

“What, Patton? I just think it’s cute. Adorable, really.” Chloe had a glint of evil in her eyes as she smiled. “I mean, it’s just so clear that Roman isn’t gay, but I guess that doesn’t mean his fans aren’t!”

Chloe and Sabrina laughed, as the crowd all looked to Virgil, as he kept walking backward with the tin behind his back, his face red in embarrassment as he just looked to the floor. Usually, Chloe’s insults never really got him this deep, but… this one hurt, mostly because it’s always been one of Virgil’s insecurities - his sexuality. 

Patton had tried to talk him into giving Roman the treats, but he just couldn’t. He’d just went home without another word. 

Virgil’s kwami, Tikki, had noticed her master’s solemn expression and flew to his side. “Cheer up, Virgil. I’m sure Roman would have enjoyed the cookies!”

Virgil sighed. “It’s not that Tikki, I know he would’ve enjoyed them. I just-” He looked over to the tin. “I don’t know if he would have enjoyed that they were made… by me.”

“Virgil, any guy who enjoys the gifts and not the people behind them are not worth your time,” Tikki said, flying closer to her master’s face. “Even Roman.”

“Roman…” Virgil breathed, looking down at the white thread and small box of pins in his hand. Roman who had given him an umbrella in the soaking rain. Roman, who had always told him his designs were amazing. Roman, who was smart and kind to everyone.

Roman Agreste.

Somehow, Virgil knew in his heart that even if he didn’t feel the same, he’d never stop loving him. Even if… that meant he was out of the picture.

——————————————

Thomas sighed as he tried to take deep breaths, his face flushed, as he walked toward his crush, who he’d asked to meet at the bridge. Samuel was one of his best friends in the entire world, and Thomas had been crushing on him since grade school. Joan had told him to go for it today, giving him a much-needed boost of confidence to finally go through with it. 

He hid the bouquet of roses behind his back as he tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, Samuel?”

“Thomas, it’s so great to see you!” Samuel hugged Thomas tightly, his smile bright. “Thanks so much for inviting me to hang out, I really needed your advice.”

“R-really?” Thomas almost squeaked, his face getting redder by the minute. He clenched the bundle of roses tighter behind his back.

“Yeah. You’re a really good friend, and I’d trust you with anything…”

“Of course, what did you… Ehem, need advice on?” Thomas said, trying to keep calm.

“Well you see, there’s a girl, and-”

Thomas’s grip on the roses tightened. “I…I’m s-sorry, what…?”

“There’s a girl I’ve been dying to ask out, and I don’t really know how to ask, and I figured since you hang around the girls a lot, you might be able to give me a few-”

“Sam, I… I like you.”

Now it was his friend’s turn to be surprised. “What?”

Thomas pulled the bundle of roses from behind his back, turning to his crush. “Samuel, I really, really, really like you. I’ve liked you since forever, and I never really found the right time to tell you, and-”

Samuel’s mouth was agape, and he just looked from the roses to Thomas. “T-Thomas?” He said, beginning to step away. “Thomas, I… I’m sorry, but… but I-”

Oh.

Thomas could feel his heart breaking inside his chest, but he tried to stay strong.

“No, no it’s fine.” A tear streaked down Thomas’s cheek as he gave his friend a pained smile. “It’s fine, Samuel.” Another tear, and another. He looked up to see his friend’s face lined with pity, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “Excuse me, I just… need a minute-”

One moment he was walking, the next running. Running somewhere he didn’t know as his eyes were blurred with tears. 

A poor tortured soul who wanted nothing but to tell the one he loved his feelings and was met with utter heartbreak. Love is not always so easy, I’m afraid…

Fly away, my little akuma, and ease his broken heart!

As the black butterfly flew into one of the roses, Thomas’s eyes were lit up with a butterfly screen. Up in his tower, Hawkmoth smiled. “Overgrowth, my name is Hawkmoth. I’m giving you the power to bend all plant life to your will and make sure the ones who have wronged you pay the price. In return, you must give me Luckybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.” The villain smirked. “Do we have a deal?”

Thomas dried his tears as he smirked. “If I can’t love, no one will.”

—————————————

“Ughhh!” Plagg groaned. “Can’t we watch the cooking channel?! These dramas are so boring!”

Roman sighed as he switched through a few different channels, his head snapping to attention when he flipped on the News.

“-local police are baffled today as plant life all around Paris has begun to move on its own, we’re going live on the scene with-!”

The camera suddenly is grabbed and pulled upward, revealing a familiar face to Roman as he quickly stood up from the couch. “Wait… is that Thomas?”

Thomas’s eyes were pitch black as vines and roses wrapped around his body with pitch black thorns. Roman was confused - Thomas was one of the sweetest guys he knew, there was no way he would get akumatized.

Thomas grinned into the camera as Roman could hear people crying out below. “People of Paris, I am Overgrowth. Within the next five hours, your city will belong to me, and me alone, unless your heroes can somehow magically save you, everything you love, everyone you love - will be mine.”

The feed had stopped abruptly, leaving the newswoman in a bit of a shock. She cleared her throat. “It seems as a new supervillain, Overgrowth, has taken over the city! Hopefully Chat Noir and Luckybug will be here to save us from doom!”

Roman sighed sadly. Poor Thomas. Something must’ve messed him up pretty bad to make him like this. “Plagg, we need to go. Thomas needs me.”

“Why do we always have akumas to fight when I’m enjoying my sweet camembert?” Plagg questioned, swallowing it whole. Roman laughed, smiling, before turning to the door. Plagg always knew how to make him feel better, even if for a few, brief, moments. 

“Let’s go. Plagg, claws out!”

——————————

Virgil’s seen many weird things in his life - ice cream akumas, baby akumas, you name it. But, he’s never seen anything this weird. 

One moment, he was adding the finishing touches on the costume dress, the next - there’s a giant leaf in his face. “Huh? What the-?”

He pulled off his headphones, leaving the dress on his bed as he walked outside to the balcony, following the trail of vine with black thorns. Virgil’s eyes widened as he noticed the thorns in every house and apartment, wrapping around pipes, inside windows and chimneys - all with those signature black thorns. “Woah.”

His pocket vibrated as he answered the call, turning back inside to find Tikki - he knew it had to be an akuma. Chat could only do so much on his own - he needed to move. “Virgil, thank god you picked up, I’ve been trying your cell for hours!”

“Patton, I- I’m sorry. My phone was on silent. What’s going on?” He began to search around his room, no Tikki in sight. That was strange. Wait… another vine, leading towards the ladder…

“There’s another supervillain, Virge! He’s controlling all the plants somehow. This is finally my chance, the chance I’ve been waiting for!”

“Chance?”

“Luckybug and Chat Noir are going to show up - Prime material for the Luckyblog!” Patton said. “Maybe I’ll even catch an interview with them, the villain’s heading downtown after all.”

Virgil froze in his tracks, Patton’s squeals of delight on the other line echoing in the back of his head. The vine with the black thorns had grabbed Tikki, coiling around her like a snake. She looked weak, and in pain. 

“V-virgil…”

No. This wasn’t like any other akuma Virgil has ever faced. Patton can NOT go near it. The thought of his best friend, wrapped in the coils, being stabbed by the thorns…

“Vir-gil… help…”

He spoke softly and firmly. “Patton, you need to find somewhere to hide.”

“What? Come on, Virge-!”

“Patton. Please. Just… stay away from the vines, promise me.”

“Vir-”

“Promise me!” Virgil snapped, grabbing the scissors from his room to use to cut the vine. Patton sounded concerned as he began to cut, freeing Tikki as she fell into his palm, weakened. 

“Virgil, are you alright, kiddo? You sound a bit panicky, is everything okay?” Patton’s voice was filled with warmth. “I… I can come over, if-”

“No, no I promise I’m fine, I just-” Virgil said, taking a deep breath. “Just stay away from the vines, okay? They… they’re unsafe.” He quickly hung up, worried more so focused on the small fragile kwami in his palm, and what exactly happened to her. 

“Tikki! Tikki, are you alright?” Virgil said. The kwami coughed in response, flying a bit. 

“I’m fine, I just need a little water.” 

Virgil poured a small cup into the cap of his thermos for Tikki to drink, and Tikki took a few gulps and a cookie. “What exactly happened?”

“The thorns are filled with dark energy - pure negative energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Tikki said as she chewed. “We kawmis are made of pure positive energy, I guess it just deflated me a little bit there.”

“Thank goodness. I wouldn’t know what I’d do with you, Tikki.” Virgil said, as the small kwami had given him a small hug.

"We need to be careful, Virgil.” Tikki said. “This akuma might be the strongest one we’ve faced.”

Virgil gave a smile. “When am I not careful?”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground shook with each step as Virgil saw someone, two thick thorny vines sprouting from their back, the vines plunging into the ground like legs as the akumatized person ran past Virgil’s house. Virgil smiled. “Look at that, Tikki. They lead themselves straight to us.” Virgil flicked his hair back to reveal his earrings. “Tikki, spots on!”

———————–

“Get off me you alley cat!” Overgrowth growled as Chat Noir’s claws dug deep into the thick vine on his back as Overgrowth thrashed this way and that, trying desperately to get cat-free.

“I don’t think so-!” Chat Noir said. “Now, would you kindly show me where your akuma is, so we can get this over with quickly?”

Overgrowth held out his open hand, summoning a black rose. “Get.. OFF!” He yelled, throwing it back in Chat’s face, sending him flying toward the ground, as his costume flicked off and on for a quick second. 

“Huh?!” Chat asked, confused. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Was something wrong with his miraculous? His kawami? His ears were ringing and his head hurt. He couldn’t move.

Overgrowth looked more than annoyed at this development. “One wasn’t enough for you?” He said, summoning a few more black rose darts, making the rose vines wrapped around his body glow slightly. “How about a few more?!” He yelled, throwing a barrage toward a helpless Chat. 

Luckybug quickly jumped in front, swinging his yo-yo, blocking the attacks. “Not today, no thank you!”

“My prince, you finally joined the party!” Chat Noir said, getting up and readying his silver pole as Overgrowth moved to the side to try to attack the two superheroes. Chat began to spin the pole quickly, blocking the attacks with ease, smiling.

“As if I’d let you have all the fun, Kitty.” Luckybug smiled. “Any idea where the akuma might be?”

“Checked everywhere. I have no clue.”

“Dammit. For once, I’d thought we’d have it easy.” Luckybug huffed.

Overgrowth growled in defeat. “No need for you two, anyway. I have someone I’m dying to go meet up with…you two have fun.”

“Wait-!” Luckybug yelled, but he was already gone. “Dammit.”

“So, any idea where Poison Ivy might’ve gone?” Chat asked. “I can’t imagine there’s much wildlife in Paris, and I doubt Scarezilla wants to go to the Zoo.”

“Luckybug! Chat Noir!" 

The two heroes turned their attention to a teenager with an orange beanie running toward them, waving their arms like crazy - Joan, one of Thomas’s best friends. "You- You gotta help Thomas! He’s a twat sometimes but he’s not a supervillain. You gotta get him back!”

“We will. We promise.” Luckybug said, placing his hand on Joan’s shoulder to steady them. “Do you know where he might’ve gone?”

“If he’s mad right now, he’s probably heading to Samuel’s house.” Joan said. The two heroes shared a glance.

“Samuel?” Chat asked.

“Yeah, Thomas has had a crush on him since forever. He rejected him when I told him to go for it, he’s akumatized because of me, you gotta help him-”

“We promise we will. Thank you so much for the help.” Luckybug turned to Chat. “Come on, we gotta go-” Luckybug used his yo-yo to jump from building to building, leaving only Chat behind.

Chat turned to the kid. “This isn’t your fault, I promise. If anything, it’s Hawkmoths. Go find a place to hide, we’ll get your friend back soon.” He turned, using his pole to propel him into the air, catching up with his prince.

Talyn rushed over to Joan. “Don’t run off like that again, Joan! You made me worried!”

“Talyn, Thomas is akumatized and it’s all my fault, I need to fix this! If I hadn’t told him-” Joan said, clenching their fists at their sides. Talyn interrupted quickly. 

“Joan, you can’t blame yourself, you didn’t make him like this!” They said. “Come on, we need to stay with the others, we’ll be safe-” Talyn slowly reached for Joan’s arm, but they jerked away. “Joan…?”

“I need to fix this, Talyn.” Joan said. “He’s my best friend." 

"Joan, what are you…?”

“I’m sorry, Talyn!” Joan said, sprinting over to Talyn’s scooter and chasing after the heroes. 

“Mother-!” Talyn sighed frustratingly as they began to run after him. 

———————–

“Patton, you need to be careful!” Logan called out to the blogger recording the two heroes flying away. “You could get hit.”

“Logan, please. I can take care of myself.” Patton said. “Luckybug and Chat Noir do so much for us - If I figure out their identities, think of what we could do to help! We could all takedown Hawkmoth together.”

“There has to be a good reason they’re secret, Patton,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “Don’t you think they might know what’s best for this one? They are the professionals, after all.”

Patton seemed too focused to listen as the two ran in the direction of the heroes. “This way, come on!”

As the pair began running, a huge vine with blackthorns grew quickly in front of them. “Patton, watch out!”

It seemed in almost slow motion. Patton had turned back, confused - when he tripped, falling, the thorns going in towards his back, making Patton fall to the ground with a cry of pain. Logan rushed over as Patton’s feet slowly began to turn purplish black. “Patton, I told you to be careful!” Logan lectured. “We should’ve stayed with the others-”

Logan didn’t need to be an expert to recognize the pain on Patton’s face as he tried to stand, his legs shaking, the phone he was holding colliding to the ground with a smash. “We- we gotta follow them-!”

Patton fell forward, Logan moving to catch him. “No, you’re not. You’re in no condition to travel.” He sat down on the curb, Patton in his arms. He didn’t know what to do, and his heart clenched uncomfortably at the sight. “Are you alright?”

Patton gripped Logan’s arm as the darkness slowly moved up his legs. “L-logan… it hurts…”

“P-patton, I…” Logan’s mind was frazzled. In all his medical training, he had no idea how to handle this. They hadn’t prepared him for this - he usually always knew what to do. “Just… just hang on-”

Patton suddenly slumped over in Logan’s lap as Logan began to search in his emergency supplies for something, anything. His mind was so incredibly scrambled that he didn’t even notice at first. The darkness was at his stomach now. 

“Patton don’t worry, everything’s going to be just-” Logan felt his heart drop when he realized Patton’s unconsciousness. “Patton… Patton, wake up, please-”

————————

“Oh Samuel, my sweet!” Overgrowth called all too innocently. “Come out, my love! I just want to… talk.”

Overgrowth, why did you abandon the miraculouses? Did you forget our deal?!

“Relax, Hawkmoth. If I grab Samuel, they’ll have to exchange his life for their miraculous.”

Such a cunning plan. Very well, grab the boy and be done with it!

Samuel shook in his broom closet, hearing the villain upstairs, his hands over his mouth as he tried not to whimper. He kept trying to remind himself that it wasn’t Thomas, and resist the urge to run out of his hiding place and apologize profusely to his friend.

He didn’t mean to hurt him - it was just so much of a surprise, he didn’t know what to say. Samuel sighed. That was the problem - he didn’t say anything. He should’ve said something, something to let him know they were still friends, that it was okay, that he didn’t need to be embarrassed…

…that he had thought about it too.

“Sammy! Come out, come out! I have something I want to tell you, sweetie!” Overgrowth called. A sudden slam upstairs nearly made Samuel jump. “I said… COME OUT!”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Sorry to burst your bubble, Overgrowth.” Luckybug said, tying his hands behind his back with ease with their yo-yo. As he held him down, he nodded to Chat, who walked over, searching for the akuma. He saw the roses glow slightly as he approached, and his eyes widened. Overgrowth quickly shook off the yo-yo, pushing both of them back and pinning them against the wall, nearly squishing them.

“My Prince- Argh!” Chat Noir winced at the pain. Luckybug breathed heavily, his vision going blurry.

“C-chat…ugh…”

“My Prince, no!” Chat tried to quickly maneuver the silver pole, his prince was about to pass out! He extended the pole, hitting Overgrowth in the face, as he released his grab on the heroes. 

Joan ascended the stairs quietly, hearing a battle on the top floor they really didn’t want to get in the middle of at the moment. If they could just get Samuel out of here - 

“Samuel?” They whispered harshly. “You in here?”

“J-joan…?” Samuel said, his voice shaking. They opened the closet quietly, as they both crept downstairs. Once out of earshot, the two finally had a moment to breathe. “Joan, thank you so much, I-!”

SLAP!

Samuel rubbed his reddened cheek. “That’s for breaking my best friend’s heart.” They said. “You’re an idiot and a douche.” They threw behind them as they climbed on the bike. “Now get on the scooter.” 

Samuel quietly climbed on as they drove away. “I’m sorry, Joan.”

“I know, you dumb himbo.” Joan said. “Don’t worry about it. When this is all over, you need to talk to him. He, at the very least, deserves that.”

“I know.”

—————————

“My prince, the akuma is in the rose vines around his body, they glow whenever he summons a black rose!” Chat yelled, dodging attacks. 

“But the vines are so close to his body, if we aren’t careful, we could kill him.” Luckybug yelled. 

“So what should we- Ugh!” Chat’s body was wrapped tightly in the vines, the thorns digging into his costume, making his mask flicker quickly once more. 

Luckybug glared at Overgrowth. “Enough is enough! Lucky Charm!” He yelled, throwing his yo-yo in the air, summoning… was that a metal hook?

“Ha ha, Luckybug. What’s that supposed to do, take me fishing?” Overgrowth yelled, as Luckybug looked around for something, anything - a clue as to what this was supposed to be used for.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Chat struggled in the villain’s grasp, trying to use anything to break free. Overgrowth smiled. “I’d love to stay and chat, but it seems a heartbreaker is slithering away. Goodbye.”

“Wait-!” Luckybug yelled, trying to rush after them, but Overgrowth quickly blocked the path by making the vines grow thick, blocking the hero from following him. “Chaton…”

He failed. Chat needed her and he couldn’t do anything.

What kind of hero was he?!

He heard a small voice in his head. Don’t give up hope, Virgil. Trust yourself. 

“Tikki…?”

Chat Noir needs you, Virgil. His kawami is weakened, he won’t have long before he transforms back. Hawkmoth can’t know his identity. 

You were chosen for a reason, Virgil. 

————————–

Samuel and Joan drove quickly through the streets of Paris, trying to find a space to hide, when they heard a sickening sweet voice and their hearts quickly dropped.

“Samuel? My sweet? Don’t run away!”

“J-joan…” Samuel said, gripping their middle at the voice. 

“I know. We need to hide, come on!” Joan said, grabbing his arm a bit harshly and heading into a nearby hotel, abandoning the scooter. They rushed up stairs, Joan practically pulling Samuel along. Even though he was a jerk, Samuel didn’t deserve whatever punishment Overgrowth has in store. 

They searched and found a small broom closet, practically throwing Samuel inside. “Joan, come in, he’s coming!”

Joan smiled sadly. “I know.”

“Wait…”

“I know Thomas is in there… somewhere. I just need to reach out to him. Stay in here and keep quiet, alright?” Joan said, pushing Samuel deeper inside the small room, shutting the door and jamming the handle with a nearby broom. They heard banging, but didn’t respond. They needed to fix this, once and for all. 

Luckybug jumped across the Paris rooftops, holding the metal hook and swinging his yo-yo, focused. Chat needed him. He didn’t need to look far - the Paris Hotel was swarmed with an overgrowth of vines, a huge clump of green on the top.

He climbed up quickly, and jumped onto the roof, hiding when he heard a voice he recognized. Was that Joan…? He peaked around the corner. 

“Overgrowth, listen to me. I’m sorry for everything that happened, but you don’t need to be this way. Friends don’t let friends become horrible villains and destroy Paris.” Joan said, using their arms for emphasis. Overgrowth scoffed. 

“I like the way I am now - less stupid and idiotic. This way, no one will ever have their heart broken again!”

Luckybug slowly crept behind the villain, shushing Joan and Chat, wrapped in the familiar thick green vine. Slowly, she grabbed the end of the vine wrapped around him, and tied it to the thick hook, hooking it sturdily to the metal around the emergency fire hose. 

“Thomas, this isn’t you. Please. Don’t you trust me…?”

“I…” Overgrowth felt strange, weird even, until a sharp pain in his head snapped him to focus.

Don’t stand there, grab him you idiot!

Joan ran, dodging his attacks, nearly getting hit. “Now, Luckybug!”

Overgrowth turned, and Luckybug gave a smirk. “Time for your trip, I’m afraid.” He kicked the villain in the face, sending him over the edge. He fell, the vine wrapped around him being unwound as he yelled. He released Chat quickly and jumped down after the akuma, the vines around him unraveled until he was free falling. He quickly caught him, bringing him back up, yelling. “Now Chat!”

Chat Noir quickly rushed over, igniting his Cataclysm and striking the vines. As it turned to black dust, a purple butterfly sprouted out as Luckybug settled the victim in the roof, turning toward the akuma. “Time to de-evilize!” He yelled, catching the butterfly in her yo-yo, purifying and releasing it. “Bye-bye butterfly!”

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

—————-

The last thing Thomas remembered was being sad, so heartbroken…

Next thing he knew, he was on the roof of a hotel. “What… what happened?” He looked down at his hands. “Was I…?”

He looked over to see Joan, their eyes filled with tears as they rushed over, enveloping their friend in a big hug. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear me?!” The roof door opened, Talyn running toward the two. Joan looked up as Talyn crashed into them with a big hug. They quickly let go before punching Joan in the arm. “Hey-!”

“That’s for stealing my scooter, you ass!” Talyn said. “I ran all the way here from nineteenth thanks to you!”

Joan gave their friend a nervous smile. “Good exercise…?” Talyn socked him on the arm harder than before, sending explosions of pain down Joan’s arm. “Owww-! Sorry, sorry-!" 

Thomas couldn’t help but giggle at this. "Rule number one: Never take Talyn’s scooter unless you’re looking for a fight. Eh, Joan?”

Joan smiled, rubbing at his arm and wincing at the pain. “Duly noted.”

Suddenly, the door opened and someone else appeared, leaving a tight knot in Thomas’s stomach - Samuel. He crossed his arms. “What are you doing here, Samuel?”

“I… I need to talk to you.”

“There’s no need, I get it. You don’t like me that way, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s not that at all. I do. Like you, I mean. Like, really really like you.” Samuel said, getting red. “When you told me I was just so shocked. I mean, you’re amazing, and I'm…”

“You're…?” Thomas asked.

“I’m a poor kid with nothing to offer but myself. You don’t deserve that.”

“Oh please.” Thomas said. “You are everything I could ever want - you’re kind, smart, resourceful - you make beautiful things out of nothing. You are what I deserve, Samuel Riggs.”

Samuel blushed, scratching the back of his head. “I still can’t believe you figured me out, I thought I was pretty secret about that kind of thing. How’d you do it?”

Thomas looked over to his friends, almost squealing at the two - they’d been trying to get them together for ages. “Oh, I had some… help.”

Samuel coughed, his face pink. “Dinner on Saturday? I know a great little bakery that’s pretty cheap - it’s supposed to be the best in Paris!”

Thomas smiled. “You’ve got yourself a date, Mr. Riggs. Pick me up at 7.” Thomas said, giving his new lover a kiss on the cheek, making Samuel turn bright red. He stammered, backing up until his back hit the  door.

“Y-yes, a date! Date on S-saturday. The Saturday date-!” He laughed when his back met the door, his face still red. “S-see ya, Thomas!”

Hearts can be mended, but one day we’ll face each other, and I’ll be the one walking away unscathed, Luckybug and Chat Noir!

———————-

Luckybug quickly rushed downstairs with Chat, the beeping making his anxiety grow ever more. He noticed a closet and held it open. “Chat, you need to go, you’ll change back any second-”

When he hesitated, Luckybug tried shoving him inside to no avail. “Chat, please-”

“My prince. Look at me.”

“C-chat…?” He asked, getting nervous. “What’s going on…?” The beeping of Chat’s ring faded into the background as the two heroes stared at each other. Chat grabbed Luckybug’s hands in his own. Chat’s heart thumped wildly in his chest. 

Today was the day. He needed to know.

“I need to tell you something my prince, something that my heart has burned in agony to tell you since the moment I met you.” He smiled as Luckybug stared at him. Luckybug was confused - why was he getting so flustered? Why is Chat looking at her like that? Luckybug’s head began to spiral. 

This isn’t right, this isn’t right…

“My prince, I-”

Before Chat had finished his sentence, Luckybug could see his uniform begin to come undone, and kicked him inside, slamming the door and pressing his back to it, breathing heavily. He can’t know Chat’s identity. He just can’t. He cares too much to know.

“My prince…?”

“What the hell was that for, Chaton?!” He yelled. “You put yourself in danger, how can you be so reckless?!”

“I…” Roman’s voice was soft from the other side of the door. “I just need to speak to you, my prince. It’s… very important.”

“Now?!” Luckybug snapped. “Chat you were about to transform back! You know we can’t know each other’s identities, Hawkmoth-”

“Hawkmoth can use it against us, I know.” Roman sighed. “We just… really need to talk, my prince. I need to tell you something, something that I’ve kept to myself for far too long.”

Luckybug’s eyebrows were knitted. “Is it about Hawkmoth? Are you in danger, Chaton?”

“No, no… it’s just- I need to talk to you face to face. About us.” Roman said, biting his lip. Plagg, held in his master’s hands, rubbed his thumb in a bit of encouragement. They shared a small smile with each other.

“Chat, please just tell me what’s going on-”

“276 Melborne. The roof. Come at midnight, my prince. I’ll tell you everything, I promise.” Roman said. “Just… trust me.”

Luckybug’s stomach felt like a knot, but he trusted Chat with anything. He’d saved his life before, he had no reason not to. Months of partnership - of fighting side by side, as equals and as friends. Luckybug detransformed, and he slowly put his hand on the door, as if to be a slight source of comfort for the cat hero figure.

“Be safe, kitty.”

Then, he ran down the steps, his heart heavy and his stomach in knots, her mind focused on getting back home - after all, Roman’s theater group needed the costumes ready for the fitting.

Roman’s head thunked on the door, and he sighed. “Why is this so hard? I’ve dealt with tons of lovestruck fans, but with him… I can barely speak.”

“I’m proud of you, kid,” Plagg said. “Even if you melted like a bunch of gooey camemberts.” He added, smirking. 

“Hey!” Roman interjected.

“Speaking of camembert…” Plagg said, diving in the pocket of Roman’s shirt for the cheese. Roman laughed at his kwami, nervous for the night ahead, but happy he decided to do it - after all this time, being restricted and ashamed for who he loved, he was happy he could at least confess to his crush, even if it was as Chat Noir.

He looked out the window as Plagg ate, seeing a ladybug, smiling to himself. Luckybug would finally know the truth, and he could finally be true with himself.

[forever-rogue]

Stress Relief - JM

A/N: Yeah, so this is extremely self indulgent and all, but I decided I need some Joe love in my life as I deal with bar exam stress. I know it’s summer, but I know a lot of still have classes and other things. Enjoy, hopefully?

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were always a stresser - especially when it came to exams. It seemed like your anxiety increased ten fold and nothing seemed to help. Your palms were would get sweaty, your hands would shake, your leg would bounce up and down, and you were left with a looming sense of nausea.

You knew you had the knowledge within in your head and that you were capable of achieving anything, but it still worried you and consumed your every thought. It had always been this way, and you didn’t think it would ever change.

Until Joe came along and entered your life like the chaotic bundle of energy he was. He’d never experienced you during exam time, and he was surprised to see you so stressed to say the least. You were normally so cool, calm, and collected, but right now you were the exact opposite.

You looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks, you always had been smeared somewhere on your face, your head in some notes, or in front of your laptop trying to soak up and memorize as much knowledge as possible.

But you were on the verge of having a complete breakdown and Joe had had enough.

“Y/N?” Joe stood behind you, peering at the screen as you furiously typed away. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a quick squeeze as he rested his head on your shoulder and kissed along your exposed skin. You didn’t respond, your eyes never wavering from the screen, “sugar?”

“Hmm?” you finally responded, almost annoyed that he was interrupting your studying. You felt like you needed to prepare constantly and that any time you weren’t studying was wasted time.

“Why you don’t step away from the laptop and books for a while and let me take you out,” he said gently as he burrowing his face in your neck. You shook your head briefly and kept tying. He groaned, but proceeded to pepper your skin in kisses, “Y/N, you need to take a break. You haven’t left the house in two days, I haven’t seen you eat today and you look like hell."

“Gee thanks,” you huffed at him, trying to shimmy out of his tight grasp, “as tempting as your offer is, I’ve got to study. This is the most important test of my life.”

“I understand that, my love, but you’re going to do brilliant on it,” Joe insisted, letting go of you and starting up, “look how much you’ve accomplished already, how far you’ve got. You can do this, I have no doubt.”

“Joey,” you sighed heavily, “I stress over everything. I can’t waste time-”

“Look at the stress it’s causing right now,” he reached for your hand and you reluctantly gave it to him, letting him pull you up from your chair, “I don’t think you’re supposing to be popping tums like it’s candy.”

“But...heartburn,” you sighed weakly as he pulled you into his arms and wrapped you up in a tight hug, kissing the top of your head, “Joey...”

“Listen here missy,” he said firmly, “you’re going to shower, change, and then we’re going to go out for a walk and to get you some food. You’re done studying for today, you can resume tomorrow, but you seriously need to take it down a little bit. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“If you insist,” you sighed contently into his chest. He always knew exactly how to make you feel better, “sir.”

“I do,” he responded, your teasing not missed, “now get into the shower-”

“Will you come with me?” you asked, giving him innocent doe eyes, “please?”

“Let’s go,” he said as he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the bathroom.

»»————-　♡　————-««

After a nice long shower, involving several rounds of stress relief he had you all dressed up and out on a walk. He had been right, the fresh air, however fresh it was in NYC, was already doing wonders for your mood. You had been cooped up for so long, the feel of the sun on your skin was already making you feel more alive.

Joe had linked his hand through yours, lacing his fingers through your own, swinging your arms gently back and worth. He rambled on about his next project that he was working on while you just listening to him, adding a few things in here and there. You loved listening to him, he got so passionate and animated about everything, and truth be told, you felt like you had been neglecting him lately since you had gone full on into your studying.

“What?” he asked suddenly, stopping mid stride as you raised your eyebrow at him, “you were just staring at me...is there something on my face?”

“Just your face,” you teased, grabbing his other hand and pressing a kiss to his lips, “which I find very handsome, and I am very in love with. And I am very, very in love with every last bit and piece of you.”

“You’re such a sap, sugar,” he gave you a lingering kiss, not bothered in the slightest by the people passing the two of you, starting unashamedly, “but I love you too. Wholeheartedly and completely, my love.”

“And I’m the sap?” you giggled just before your stomach let out a loud wail, “ooh.”

“Come on,” he pulled in the direction of the pizzeria down the street, “it’s lunch time.

»»————-　♡　————-«

“You know you’re going to ace this exam, right?” he asked as he popped a large piece of crust into his mouth. He struggled to get down, realizing he had made a bit mistake. You chuckled as you push the water at him so he could finally swallow. Once he was finally done, he went right back to it, “you totally got this.”

"I'm not sure," you said as you pushed around the remaining bits on your plate around, "I have moments were I feel so confident and then a few moments later I feel like an idiot again. I don't know, Joey. I just...I hate this to be quite frank."

"You can do this," he promised, "you're brilliant, I don't why you refuse to see it. And you know what, if worst comes to worst and you don't pass this time around, that's fine too. You can always try again, my love."

“You wouldn't think of me as a failure?" you asked him with a small half smile, as he reached over and traced his fingers over the back of your hand.

"Never ever," he stated firmly, "you will get this in your own time. It doesn't matter how long it takes, because you will get there when you get there. And I will be there with you every step of the way, right by your side."

"Okay," you felt a warm blush creep up into your cheeks, "I like the sound of that. You and I."

"Well, duh, sugar," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "you're stuck with me for life. That much was pretty guaranteed from the day you first spoke to me, and I got to hear that beautiful voice."

"Joey," you whispered, knowing you were red as a tomato by now, "stopppp."

"Never!" he taunted, "I will tell you and the whole world I love you for ever and ever. I will shout it from the rooftops, I will-"

"Point taken," you interrupted him, leaning across the table and kissing him to stop his rambling, "I love you too. Thank you."

"Anything for you," he winked at you, "I'm glad you're starting to feel a little better. Promise me you'll feel ease up a little? Take some breaks and take care of yourself. I'll help you too."

"Promise," you offered him your pinky and he hooked his around yours, "see? Now it's official, you can't break pinky promises."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Over the next several weeks, Joe made good on his promise to help keep you sane and grounded throughout your studying. He’d make sure you had breakfast everything morning, accompanied by a coffee from your favorite cafe. He made sure you took breaks, helping to keep your mind off of your studies in all sorts of ways, sometimes it was with a Mario Kart session, sometimes it was a movie or two, sometimes it was an impromptu dance competition.

He always helped provide some much needed stress relief in the form of worshiping you on a nightly basis, not quitting until the only words on your mind and spilling out of your mouth were his name.

But, then again, you’re going to complain one bit about that.

[chaossmagic]

fic: there’s a place that i know (it’s not pretty there if you should ever go)

Summary: Aaron finally gets a chance to talk to his husband about the reality of his declining mental health and helps him understand a few truths about what he’s going through in light of Victoria’s trauma and his struggle to cope.

TW: in-depth discussion of mental illness, specifically depression, and talk of suicide/suicidal thoughts. References also to Victoria’s rape and mentions of Lee.

read on AO3| buy me a coffee?

After their conversation on the bridge, Aaron couldn’t bear to watch Robert have another fitful, sleepless night. 

For the last few weeks he’d been constantly tossing and turning, waking up at all hours and pacing their bedroom when he thought Aaron was asleep, and making excuses like needing a drink or needing the loo when he got caught. At first, Aaron hadn’t wanted to push him, and let him ride it out in his own way. But it had been getting harder and harder to watch his husband get paler and paler, his face more pinched, the bags under his eyes deeper, his concentration shorter and his patience thinner the more he worried about Victoria and what she was going through. Seeing her so on edge, constantly worried about seeing Lee or Wendy anywhere she might go, the ever-present fear that she wouldn’t be allowed to just be an ordinary mum and raise her child in peace, was pushing Robert to the brink. 

He tried not to let on, but Aaron could see it in his eyes and he knew how much he was suffering, even if he didn’t want Aaron to see because Vic had it much harder than he did and he believed his problems weren’t important.

But they were to Aaron. 

It had gotten so bad that his mum had come up to him in the pub that afternoon, pressed a hand to his arm and asked him gently, “Is Robert alright, love? Really?”

He’d been in before, she’d said. Sat in the corner with a pint he barely drank, staring into space, like a statue, she’d said. Motionless. Looking at everything and seeing nothing. 

“It scared me a bit,” she’d said. “I’ve never seen him look like that before.”

No, he’d wanted to tell her. No, he’s not.

The thing was, Aaron knew exactly how it felt to feel like a ghost, drowning in your own shame and self-hatred, because he’d done the same thing himself. Looking at Robert lately was like looking at himself in the mirror, ten years ago. Back during a time in his life when he felt so awful all the time that he’d thought about, and had actually tried, disappearing from the world forever.

But now he was glad. He was glad that Adam had pulled him from the fume-filled garage that day, because it had all led him to Robert and to their family and he could not be more grateful.

He just needed to remind Robert of that, too. He needed that same change of perspective and recognition. To show him that what they had was worth it - and that if he felt like that, like Aaron had, that he wasn’t alone.

So that night, before climbing into bed next to his husband, Aaron went to the cupboard where they kept the spare sheets and pulled down a thick, heavy bundle of fabric - his weighted blanket. The one he’d been recommended by his counsellor, to help with his anxiety and panic attacks and insomnia, the one he’d bought after Gordon and everything he went through with the trial and then his father’s death.

He hadn’t used it in months. The last time had been when Billy had showed up, right over Christmas, and the weight on his chest had made him feel like he was choking with the fear of seeing him everywhere he went. When he’d been too afraid to leave the house, it was the only thing that had brought him relief. Now, though, he and Billy were on a stalemate of sorts, almost like they’d called a truce, and he’d put it back in the top of the cupboard where it had always been.

He carried it wordlessly into their bedroom now, bare feet padding across the carpet, and placed it on the bed with a soft, “Here.”

At the sound of Aaron’s voice, Robert rolled over onto his back, the harsh light of the bedside lamp throwing into sharp relief just how haggard he really looked. Aaron’s chest gave an awful, painful squeeze as he looked at him. 

Almost immediately, Robert shook his head, his eyes falling to the blanket and staring there. “Aaron, I couldn’t.”

“You can, and I want you too,” Aaron replied. “Look at ya, Rob, you look like death warmed up. When was the last time you actually slept?

“Gee, thanks,” was the murmured response, Robert throwing an arm over his eyes and sighing deeply. “I feel really appreciated.”

“Robert,” Aaron pleaded, kneeling on the bed and crawling up next to him, gently pulling his arm away from his face and cupping his cheek softly. He felt rather than heard Robert’s infinitesimal gasp, biting his lip as he leaned in to Aaron’s warm palm without thinking, his eyelids drifting closed. They were purple under taught, fatigue-grey skin, the shadows under his eyes like bruises. Aaron gently traced his thumb there. “Robert, please, I’m - “ he swallowed hard, a sudden lump in his throat. His voice was hoarse and quiet as he continued. “I’m worried about ya. The way you’ve been actin’....the not sleepin’, not eatin’, hardly concentrating at work....you remind me of meself. The way I used to be.”

At that, Robert’s eyes snapped open, huge and blue-green in the dim light, and the fear there was enough to make Aaron’s blood run cold. Fear that he was right. Fear that he really was going under. Fear that he was falling with no way of being able to catch himself.

“You think I’m losing my mind?” Robert whispered, reaching for Aaron’s hand and wrapping his own fingers tight around it. “Be honest with me, Aaron.”

“I think you’re going to make yourself ill if you carry on like this,” Aaron said simply. “So does Liv, and me mum. They won’t say as much, but they’re all really worried that you-” he cut himself off, not able to even think the words. “Well. You know how things....ended with me.”

“I haven’t felt like myself since....before we found out about Vic,” Robert admitted. “I think the last time I felt like myself was when we were outside that club, and you were scoffing chips after having one too many and trying to flirt with me.”

“Er, what do you mean tryin’? I succeeded, thank you, if what happened after we got home is anythin’ to go by,” Aaron protested. 

“After that...” he carried on, “after that is sort of a blur, really. Like white noise, inside my head. I can’t think beyond knowing what Vic went through. It’s all that’s in my head, all the time. How scared she must have been, how that - that bastard hurt her so much that she stayed locked up in her own house for weeks without telling another soul what happened.”

“This is good, Robert,” Aaron soothed, squeezing his hand. “This is really good. You need to talk to me about it.”

But Robert shook his head again. “I can’t. I can’t, because it’s not about me, is it? I feel like there’s this constant fire inside my head where I’m angry and scared and then angry again, and I can’t show any of that to anyone because they’ll just say I’m selfish when what Vic is going through is so much worse.”

Aaron cupped his face, stroking this thumbs over his cheeks. He pressed his lips to Robert’s in a gentle but firm kiss, trying to convey everything he felt in that one action. Love. Understanding. Patience. Acceptance. He felt tears against his own cheeks and realized Robert was crying silently, tiny whimpers coming from his chest that he tried to swallow down as his hands came up to bracket the back of Aaron’s head, fingers tightening in his dark curls and holding on as if for life itself. 

Aaron scooted down the bed so that he was level with Robert, still kissing him, a hand coming up to still his trembling shoulders. He pulled away and buried his nose in the hollow of Robert’s throat, his cheek pressed to his collarbone. “It’s not selfish,” he said. “It’s never selfish. That’s what mental illness does to ya. It warps your mind, corrodes it. It’s never your fault. It wasn’t for me and it’s not for you.”

“But it’s not the same, is it?” Robert said. “You were genuinely ill. You had your reasons.”

Aaron looked up, his face so close to Robert’s he could see every shade of green and every shade of blue in his eyes, bright with tears. Their noses were almost touching, and he leaned forward slightly to brush them against one another. He pressed a soft kiss to his cheekbone, right under one tired, red-rimmed eye. “But so do you,” he said. “It all matters, Robert. There is no hard and fast rule. You’re my husband, and I love ya. I want to look after ya. And if you get sick, then I want to be there for ya, whether it’s the flu or something else that’s going on up here,” he gently tapped the tip of his finger to Robert’s temple, indicating his mind. “It’s because I know what it’s like that I want to make sure you’re okay. I’m speakin’ from experience, and because I love you so much that the thought of you being in that dark place is somethin’ I never want for ya.”

“What did I ever do to find someone as amazing as you?” Robert asked. 

“Stole your car, didn’t I?” Aaron said, chuckling. “You were an arse, but you grew on me in the end, didn’t ya? Like a fungus or summat. Or an ingrown toenail.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Robert replied simply. “If I’m an ingrown toenail, I’m the luckiest ingrown toenail in the world.”

“Will ya let me get the blanket now?” Aaron asked. “If it makes you feel less self-conscious about it, we can both get under it, if ya want. I promise ya it’ll help.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “Yeah, okay. If I’m with you, I can do it.”

Aaron rolled away from Robert to drag the blanket over, draping the weight of it over both their bodies. He moved in closer, throwing one leg over Robert’s and tangling their legs together, keeping in a hiss as Robert’s cold toes made contact with his bare calf. He reached for his hand again, holding it tight against Robert’s chest, just over his heart, and adjusted the blanket so that they were both covered by it. The heavy weight of it molded immediately to the shape of their bodies, warm and secure, and he felt Robert’s shoulders relax down into the mattress with it. 

“How does that feel?” Aaron prompted. “Good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does,” Robert’s eyelids were already drifting closed again, his voice thick with sleep. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Robert opened his eyes. “Always staying with me.”

Aaron shook his head. “S’not an option not to. I love you. It won’t fix everything, but....it helps, it really does. And it’s a start.”

“I can handle that, I think,” Robert replied. “As long as you’re with me.”

Aaron let himself smile at that, just a little bit. Just enough. 

“Always.”

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Imperfect and Human Are We

Prompt: Whumptober Day 30, Recovery

Summary: MarkBop struggles with the temporary loss of his voice after the events of "Choke," and in a manner of speaking, so does Cameraman Jim after the events of "Silenced." Maybe Bop is just the person to help CJ start healing.

Warnings: Injury recovery, self-worth issues

Tagging: @peribloke @tired-eldritchhorror (ask to be tagged!)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

~

MarkBop hates this.

One week ago, Bing brought him into Dr. Iplier’s clinic after he’d been strangled by a mugger. Apparently there’s nothing surgically that Dr. Iplier can do, and Bop just has to wait for his throat to heal on its own.

And that means no talking.

Not that he can, anyway. He’d lost his voice moments after he woke up from nearly suffocating to death and hasn’t yet gotten it back. Even if it comes back tomorrow, Dr. Iplier won’t let him talk until his throat is good and healed again.

It’s not that Bop is so upset about not talking. He knows a little bit of sign language, and Oliver gave him a notepad he snagged from the control room so Bop can write out more complicated sentences. He can still communicate with Bing and Oliver, still let Dr. Iplier know how he’s feeling.

But he hates not being able to sing.

Singing is what he was made to do. He was created to be a singer, and so he is. He listens to music nearly every waking moment, devouring albums like they’re candy and then listening to them again, over and over, until he knows every note. He only ever pauses the endless music to hum to himself, to tap the counter he’s sitting at, to draw out the earworm in his head by singing it. He’ll stay up all night, singing and recording until his throat hurts, and in the early hours of the morning he’ll crawl into bed with Bing and whisper love songs to his sleeping form until he falls asleep himself. If he can’t sing, then what else is there?

What else is there?

“What if I forget?” Bop writes on his notepad for Bing one day, too anxious to think through signing it. “What if I spend so long not singing I just…forget how?”

“You won’t forget, babe,” Bing reassures him, kissing him gently, “There’s no way you could forget how to sing. When your voice comes back it’ll be just like it was before.”

Bop wants to believe him, he knows Bing is right. Dr. Iplier has explained as much to Bop a few times already, reminding him that he’s a figment, and he can heal from anything. Reminding him that he was made to sing, and he could never lose that about himself. But Bop is afraid that every day he goes without singing is a day he loses muscle memory, breath control, skill. He might still be able to sing, but he’ll be out of practice and worse for it, won’t he? He fears gearing up to sing for the first time when his throat heals only for his voice to screech, to wobble when he wills it to be steady, to crack on high notes or fail on low notes.

But, even with all that anxiety in his head…he knows it could be worse.

Lightning apparently strikes twice at Ego Inc. because just a few days ago, Cameraman Jim was brought into the clinic with bruises, a black eye, and a crushed hand. Bop wasn’t there when he was admitted, but to hear Bim tell it, it was horrific. Poor CJ endured surgery on his hand to set the bones and remove the fragments that were too small to realign. His hand is bandaged, casted, immobile, leaving him with only one hand to sign with. Bop’s seen him after his surgery a couple times now during his daily check-ins with Dr. Iplier. Both times, Reporter Jim was there too, sitting on CJ’s bed with him and pressing his forehead to CJ’s, not speaking, just staying close.

Bop knows CJ’s left the clinic by now, probably healing the same way Bop is: One day at a time, hoping, wondering, fearing.

It’s confirmed when RJ approaches him one day, out of the blue.

“Music Jim?” he asks, “Can I, um, ask you for something?”

“Sure,” Bop signs, “What’s wrong?” RJ seems nervous, uncertain, to the point where Bop could’ve mistaken him for CJ had he not, well, spoke. The twins are practically impossible to tell apart without their differing personalities.

“It’s about CJ,” RJ says, “I mean, I know he got hurt and he has to get better, but…” He sighs, fidgeting. “But what happened really messed him up. More than his hand and his eye. He just…he won’t communicate at all. Not with me or Bim Jim or Doctor Jim or any Jim!” He hugs himself. “He could still sign okay with only one hand, and he could shake his head or nod or point to things, and I’ve tried to make him feel safe enough to speak but just…nothing works. He won’t do anything. I know he’s upset but I don’t – well, I mean, I kinda do know why he’s so upset.”

“Why?” Bop asks. He’s sort of forgotten that RJ prefaced this by asking for Bop’s help. He’s worried now, and curious, because he didn’t hear much about what happened to CJ, but what he did hear wasn’t good.

“Because the guys who hurt him…they…” RJ’s voice gets quiet. “When I scared them off, one of them called CJ the r-word, and I think…I think they said a lot of bad stuff to him while they were beating him up.” RJ sniffles. “And I think that’s why they broke his hand, because he was probably signing to them, and they must not’ve…not’ve liked it.”

Bop doesn’t know enough sign to convey how horrified he is by that knowledge. It must show on his face, because RJ nods in acknowledgement.

“It’s not the first time people have been rude to him,” RJ continues, “But no one’s ever been so cruel, and it’s never…” He whimpers. “It’s never happened when I wasn’t there.”

Bop fumbles with his notepad to write It wasn’t your fault as fast as he can manage. RJ sighs when he reads it.

“I know that, I guess,” he mumbles. “Bim Jim keeps telling me that. And he’s right, and you’re right, I just…I’d feel better if I could get CJ to communicate with me.” He brightens a little as he looks at Bop. “That’s why I came to you.”

What can I do?? Bop writes, hoping his face conveys his confusion accurately. It must, because RJ actually smiles a little.

“Well, what happened to you was a little similar, right?” RJ asks. “I mean, it was some cruel human who hurt you, and you got hurt somewhere important to you. I was thinking you could relate to him, and maybe help him out of this.”

Bop considers. It stings a little to be reminded of the reason for the notepad he’s writing on, but he knows RJ doesn’t mean anything by it. And maybe RJ has a point. Maybe CJ feels like Bop does: Gutted, purposeless, drifting, begging for the future and fearing it in the same breath. From what apparently happened to him, it wouldn’t be surprising. And Bop likes the Jims; they’re weird and goofy but sweet, and they keep asking to report on Bop’s latest covers and song releases, even though Bop is far too nervous to go on camera. If he really can help CJ, he wants to at least try.

“Okay,” Bop signs, and RJ immediately lights up.

“Thank you, thank you, Music Jim!!” he exclaims. He hugs Bop, a gangly long-limbed hug that’s tighter than Bop would’ve expected, before jumping back to bounce with excitement. “CJ’s in Bim Jim’s greenhouse!”

Bop nods and can’t help giving RJ a pat on the head before he goes.

Bop’s been to the greenhouse himself a few times, and he’s not surprised that CJ’s there. It’s a beautiful space, full of green and growth and light shimmering in from…somewhere. The greenhouse isn’t on the roof or even the top floor, yet natural light streams in through the ceiling anyway. Bop always shrugs it off as one of Ego Inc.’s weird-yet-convenient magical quirks. When he steps inside, the place is as bright as ever, the plants are glittering with water drops. The room is misty and humid, but it doesn’t take long to find CJ. He’s looking at a huge bundle of violet chrysanthemums. His hair is damp, there’s a plastic bag beaded with water over the cast on his hand. He’s probably been in here for a while.

Bop approaches him, making like he’s looking at the chrysanthemums, too. CJ’s eyes flick to him, but he says nothing and continues to stare at the flowers. He doesn’t smile. There’s bags under his eyes. Bop’s heart aches to see how bad he looks. He takes a deep breath and turns to CJ, catching his attention.

“Hey, CJ,” he signs. “How are you doing?”

CJ looks at him but doesn’t respond. Not a nod, a head shake, a furtive glance, nothing. No wonder RJ was so upset, if this how CJ’s been acting. Bop takes out his notepad.

I’m guessing you’re not doing great, Bop writes, showing CJ the notepad after. CJ makes the slightest sound, a huff of breath out his nose, as if to say yeah, obviously. But it’s something, at least. Bop smiles, a little sheepish but happy for a response.

Yeah, I know, but I heard about what happened to you. Bop cringes as he writes, remembering what RJ told him, comparing it to the cast on CJ’s hand and the thin, yellowed ring still around his eye. I’m sorry. That sounds horrible.

CJ frowns, lips pursing like he’s holding back a reaction. He seems like he wants to look away but doesn’t want to be rude.

The moment stretches long and uncomfortable. But Bop keeps looking at CJ, and CJ keeps looking at Bop. Maybe CJ is tired of staying silent and closed-off, or maybe Bop came at the right time, or maybe Bop somehow said the right things. But CJ lifts his good hand, hesitant.

“You got hurt, too,” he signs, “How is it not being able to talk?”

Fortunately, Bop can read sign better than he can use it, and CJ’s questions rings loud and clear.

It really sucks, Bop admits. I’m still afraid I won’t be able to sing right when my voice comes back, even though everyone tells me not to be.

CJ nods, considering, before raising his hand again. He lowers it, biting his lip. He finally raises his hand and replies, still apprehensive, but once he starts he can’t seem to stop.

“Why can’t I just talk like normal people?” he asks, fingers shaking, “You can’t talk because you’re hurt. I don’t have any excuse. My voice box works but I can’t use it. RJ keeps telling me that those guys who hurt me were wrong, that I’m not stupid or weird because I can’t talk. And I know if I asked him why I can’t be normal he’d say I’m fine how I am or that I’m normal for me or something, but I just…” His hand pauses in the air for a moment. What Bop thought were misty droplets on his cheeks might actually be tears. “I don’t want to hear that. I just hate that I’m not normal. I hate that I need my hands to talk and one of them is broken. I hate how I feel broken.”

Bop feels his eyes tear up. He stares at his notepad, unsure of how to respond for a long moment.

I feel pretty broken right now, too, Bop finally begins, Being silent sucks. It feels so hard to get a word in sometimes, it makes me feel like I’m disconnected from people. This house is so loud, everyone’s so loud, and I love it, but I love it less when I can’t be loud, too. It’s like it swallows me up.

CJ’s eyes are wide and glittering as he reads, like Bop is speaking to his deepest thoughts. Maybe he is, for all Bop knows. Bop smiles gently as he continues writing.

But it’s not all bad, he continues, I feel like I’m better at listening lately. Not that I was bad before, but it comes easier now. It’s easier to focus because I’m not talking or singing to myself all the time. And I know, really know, who my friends are. The ones who look to me in the conversation and give me a chance to communicate. It’s hard to talk with people, but not with Bing and Oliver. They don’t talk over me or through me, they still keep me in the rhythm. I think there’s a lot of good in being quiet, as long as you have people you can still make yourself heard around.

CJ whimpers, wipes his eyes with his good hand before replying.

“I wish I could talk. All the time.”

Maybe you will one day, Bop writes, You’re still young compared to most of us. Maybe you’ll get enough confidence to talk all the time. But even if you don’t, you’ll still have all your other ways of talking and interacting with the world that people like me don’t, that we don’t even know about. I’m gonna go back to talking all the time and be a worse listener and bad at focusing again, but not you. He grins. You’ll still have all this cool stuff going on. It’s hard not being normal, but it’s fun, too. Plus, being normal is hard sometimes, too. Being a person can be hard. We’re all just people. We’re all weird here, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

CJ nods. He still looks sad, but he seems to be gathering himself.

“Maybe part of it is that I can’t film right now,” he admits, fingers slow. “With my hand like this, I can’t even hold a camera. I already tried shooting one-handed with my smaller cameras but I just can’t do it. I wouldn’t feel so bad if I could just…just…”

Do what you were made to do? Bop writes. He shows it to CJ, sees him duck his head with the slightest embarrassed smile, before he continues. I get that. It’s really hard. But I’m sure Doc’s told you that your hand will heal completely and eventually it’ll be like it never happened. That’s what he told me about my throat. He sighs. It’s hard to believe, but we have to trust him. He knows what he’s talking about. We just have to get through this. I think it’d be easier for you to get through this if you actually tried to communicate with people a little. He lightly, playfully shoulder-checks CJ, who’s come to stand beside him to read what he’s writing. CJ smiles again, a little bit broader.

“Yeah,” CJ signs. He looks away from Bop, back to the chrysanthemums. “I’m not really used to not being able to share an experience with RJ. He doesn’t know how I feel right now, he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, when he usually…just does. It sounds weird in words, but I like not having to worry about that. I like that he knows me so well. But he doesn’t know what I’m going through now, he wasn’t there when I got hurt, and he can’t…figure out all this stuff.”

So tell him!! Bop writes, animated, and CJ actually giggles when he reads it. He’s your brother, he loves you, he just wants to help you be okay. He’s the reason I came to talk to you in the first place. Bop grins. Maybe he knows what you’re feeling right now better than you think.

CJ nods. He smiles at Bop, a full, sunny smile, and his eyes sparkle. He hugs Bop, not as tight as RJ did but just as haphazard. This time, Bop has enough time to hug back. For a long moment, all is quiet, quiet without the internal noise of communication, only the dripping of water throughout the greenhouse and the hum of the fans. The sun somehow shines through the ceiling onto the pair, dappling the floor around them, and the flowers are as bright as ever, those purple chrysanthemums standing proud.

“Thanks,” whispers CJ, so quiet that Bop almost doesn’t hear it.

Bop’s jaw drops and his heart swells. CJ’s never spoken to him before. Excitement courses through him but he’s determined not to ruin the moment. He only hugs CJ tighter in response. When they finally pull away, they smile at each other, each elated but a little awkward. They don’t sign or write anything more, and nothing more is needed. CJ only waves goodbye, still smiling, before practically bouncing out of the greenhouse, no doubt to find RJ. Bop waves after him and sighs to himself, happier than he’s been since he got hurt in the first place.

He lingers in the greenhouse for a while in front of those purple chrysanthemums, just enjoying the moment.

[lxveille]

let’s make a deal

j-us x reader

word count: ~ 1430 warnings: none (excluding me still being new to writing onf) a/n: coworkers!AU; anon requested 7 or 14 from the 100 ways and i kinda did both bc what are decisions ??? requests for onf are still open

Seungjun woke up early for you, so a little bit of nonsense is just the price you have to pay.

Normally at this hour, you could only be grateful for a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the brew at this corner cafe is too bitter to gulp down as you normally would. It leaves you sitting with your elbows propped up on the table, watching the steam rise and curl in the air. You should’ve ordered something else. Then again, even just the thought of anything sugary makes your stomach tense up a bit more. Nerves truly are the worst. 

On the bus you’d made a promise to yourself not to think about work at least until Seungjun got here. The anxiety creeping through your muscles says you’ve failed at that. With a sigh, you lean down and zip open your bag. There’s no need to rummage; the bundle of index cards you’d finalized last night were right on top of all your other supplies. Bound together with a red rubber band you’d done and undone six times checking that you hadn’t left one of the cards out of place.

When you place the cards on the table, it’s with a heavy enough hand that it wobbles, and coffee threatens to slosh over the brim of the mug. It doesn’t have to happen for you to already feel a touch of panic over hypothetically soiling your presentation notes. Your finger digs in to one flat edge of your stack of cards. You remind yourself to breathe and focus your gaze on a patch of ceiling just left of one of the overhead lights. 

This is a good opportunity. You’ve prepared. You shouldn’t be so nervous. Though if you mess it up, who knows when you’ll get another chance.

“Hey. Sorry I kept you waiting!” The voice and the body slipping into the chair across from you pulls you out of your worried thoughts. 

You straighten your spine and summon a small smile for Seungjun. He looks nearly ready for work. He’s yet to finish off his outfit with one of the usual ties and his hair still looks a small touch damp.  There’s more than enough time left before the office opens for the latter issue to fix itself. And unless Seungjun had been particularly rushed getting here, you imagine there must be a tie stuffed somewhere into the backpack he’s dropping onto the floor. 

“No, don’t worry,” you tell him, “Thanks for meeting me.”  The second half of your words comes out with less vigor. Not for a lack of appreciation, but from the part of you that very much wishes you could back out of giving a presentation at work altogether.

Seungjun’s eyes catch yours. There’s a distinct something in his gaze that says he can already see that hesitancy in you. He smiles like he doesn’t. “I’m sure everything you prepared is fine. But I don’t mind being the test run.” 

You snap the rubber band against the first card in the pile nervously. “I don’t even know why I’m doing a project proposal.” 

“Hopefully because you have an idea worth proposing.” His good-natured grin falters when you sink down in your seat. He rushes to amend it, “We both know it’s a good idea. You just have to present it confidently. So, come on. Let’s do a runthrough.” 

The first time you go through your plans of what to say, Seungjun is nothing but encouraging. Despite the early hour, he summons smiles and nods and agreements that soothe some of your worries. Once you’ve bent a corner on the last index card of your stack, he begins with reassurances that it’s a presentation worth giving. That it’s not going to be a mistake. And that he has a few ideas on how you can smooth everything out in what you’re going to say. 

He wouldn’t have been the one you called if you hadn’t wanted advice. Sticking to positivity first was his way of easing into the criticism he did have. You trust his judgement, though, and decide he wouldn’t nitpick if he thought the proposal would simply flop either way. 

You lean forward in your chair, angling your arms so you can show him your notes as you start from the top again. He stops you here and there, with clarifying questions or suggestions on stronger wording.

By the time you’re done, there’s whole cards that have been put aside in favor of a more concise presentation. And Seungjun’s hair has finished drying in the cool air of the cafe. 

“What do you think?” he asks as you eye over the altered notes, “Feeling ready?” 

“I guess so.” It may not be as definitive as either of you would wish, but it’s better than where you’d started this morning. Carefully, you tap the cards together on the tabletop to even out the edges before wrapping the rubber band back around the reduced pile. “Thanks again.” 

He shrugs and gives a wave of a hand. As if he hadn’t gotten up far earlier than usual just for you. You bend to put the notes back in your bag, and find yourself pausing just as you set them atop your wallet and notebook. You probably should have asked for his advice earlier. That way you’d have more time to practice with the changes made. It feels like such an obvious misstep now that it’s occurred to you. You straighten back into your chair and check the time. There’s no getting around the fact that you’ll have to head out to the office soon. 

“Did I tell you?” Seungjun cuts into your spiraling thoughts for the second time this morning. You blink your focus onto him and let out a puzzled ‘huh?’ 

“I just remembered, I dreamt about you last night,” he tells you. It only adds to the confusion on your face. “Yeah,” he insists before you could get out any kind of doubt. “It was at, like, this fancy ball kind of thing. Fancy clothes and strings playing and all. And I think I must have been a prince or something, because you looked just shocked when I came up and asked ‘can I have this dance?’” As he quotes his dream-self, he changes his tone and holds out one hand to you over the table; palm up in some kind of reenactment. 

A feeling that you try to keep locked away wriggles its way out of its cocoon. You do your best to withhold a smile as you say, “You’re so lame.”

Seungjun’s barking laugh might as well be an admission of as much. Still, he insists, “am not,” through his amusement. “I thought it was a good dream!” 

“Because you were royalty?” You refuse to let yourself ask about it being because you were in it. That’s the last thing you need to start thinking about before giving a project proposal. 

“Well, there is that.” He grins, and the thought of standing in front of your bosses in boardroom escapes you almost entirely. “But I mean I think it was a good omen kinda thing. For you. Like we’re gonna have a reason to celebrate some time soon.”   

You are not entirely convinced that’s how anyone would read that dream. Or even if that’s how he thought of it before this moment. All you muster in reply is a simple, “Maybe.” 

“What do you say -- if they take up your project, you and I go out dancing?” 

This time you’re the one guffawing. Your laughter might be from your most insecure parts, unable to picture your proposal going half as well as that. Or else from a whole other set of doubts at the thought Seungjun may have just asked you out. Albeit on conditions you find unlikely to come true.

“Why would we do that?” You try not to think about whether or not it’d be date if it did happen. And pray that your face hasn’t betrayed you by flushing at the notion.

“Because of the dream!” Seungjun declares, as if it were only natural. “And so you know I really think your presentation will go well.” Before you can try to unravel what implications might be behind that, he’s holding his out to you once again and asking for a decision. “Deal?” 

You eye him over once and let out a small sigh as you place your elbow on the edge of the table. Your pinky locks with his as you answer, “Deal.” 

Maybe thinking of his smile during your meeting will help relieve your nerves. Or at least give you something other than your proposal to be nervous about. 

[calliecat93]

Top 5 Things That I Disliked ABout RvB: Singularity

(Top 5 Likes Post Link)

Well, it’s been about four months since RvB17 concluded. The shortest season in the series thus far, RvB17 has had overall very positive reception with good humor, compelling drama, and nice character development. I enjoyed it… but I would be lying if I said I loved it unconditionally. And I’d be lying even more if I said that it was better than the sadly often derided S16. The season has its pros and it has its cons, as every season of the show does. The cons this time probably annoy me more than some due to what I like and dislike, so that’s important to know before going further into this post.

So, it’s time for another Top 5 Likes/Dislikes about the recent RvB season! Now normally I do this shortly before the upcoming season, so why am I doing this now and not when RvB18 starts? Well, I’ve had a lot of these on my mind for a while, and after completing a recent rewatch, I want to go ahead and get it all out. To compensate, when RvB18 does roll around I’ll likely do a post about the past three seasons, and maybe some other stuff like what I’d like to see. And of course, as always, this is just my opinion and I will be as fair as possible, so take everything that I say with a grain of salt.

Anyways, let's get the part that I always hate doing done first: the Top 5 Dislikes.

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I hate being negative. I really, really do. Overall, S17 was a very enjoyable season and I liked it in spite of its flaws, as I do with most media that I get into. But I do have issues, more so than I did 15 and 16, and I do want to talk about them. Most of you who’s followed my blog probably already know them, but I’m gonna try to be more detailed about why I disliked it. So we’ll start with something nit-picky, and work our way up. So let's get started with...

#5. Execution of the time travel/The Everwhen

This one is probably the most minor, but the whole thing just… confuses me. So for those unaware, the Everwhen is essentially a giant time portal that allows you to possess your past self at any point in time. This is… not a bad concept at all. It’s a really cool one and they use it to great effect by going to various points in the show’s history. Then using the past variations of Halo also makes us more invested since we recognize those periods. And while I wish we got to see more moments in those periods that we didn’t see, the few that we got in Episode 5 with Wash and Carolina was very well done. I only have two real issues with the Everwhen. First being an excuse for the mass amount of nostalgia banking, but at least it served a purpose… well, the Freelancers did. The Mercs were totally unnecessary. But that can easily just be a me thing and I get that it made a lot of fans happy, so I won’t harp on it. The other reason though is the reason why it made this list.

The execution is confusing as Hell when you really think about it.

First, how does this exist? I guess we’re supposed to believe that Chrovos made it, which I guess that I can buy. But aside from a line in Episode 1 about how the Reds and Blues time period was the backswing that caused the paradox, there isn’t really anything about how this gateway suddenly exists. Which presents another problem, the Reds and Blues inside it. Okay, so the paradox happened and it messed their memories up. That I understand… but why are they having deja vu in the past?! Shouldn’t they have been like Wash was? In some period where they did and didn’t break time? I get that they were in the middle of the paradox while Wash had been in the present, but in that case, how did they get knocked back to the past? At first, I assumed that Chrovos put them there, which would have made sense in order to keep them out of the way. But that’s never said. The implication is that they just got put there randomly, but because of Wash’s state, it really doesn't make any sense for them to be there.

But I think I get why it was like this. On The SHizno Podcast, Jason explained how the original pitch was that the Reds and Blues were going to be in a simulation of Blood Gulch that Chrovos put them in. Think S9 when Epsilon was in the Memory Unit… which it being too similar is one of the reasons why that plan got rejected. It probably explains why they used Halo 2 Anniversary in the S16 finale if the simulation plan was still in effect when Joe wrote it. But that would explain why they were in the past and having memory issues while Wash wasn’t. And it being a simulation is what I thought it was... until Huggins was able to move through it without going through the portal, which made everything even more confusing. As much as I get being too similar to S9, I can’t but feel that it would have been the better move and not given me a headache over how this stupid Everwhen worked. Because it being a simulation and not the actual timeline made a heck of a lot more sense.

Ultimately, this is Number 5 because as I said, it’s nitpicky. Time travel is a mess no matter how it’s utilized, so I’m pretty lenient on it because thinking about it too hard is painful and not worth it. Plus it may just be my own stupidity confusing me. Still, it DID bother me and it made Episodes 7 and 8 especially a pain in the ass to watch through. But since again it’s overall more nitpicky, I’ll leave it at Number 5.

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#4: The Simmons Labyrinth

Yeah, we all knew that this was going to be on here.  What’s left to be said that I haven’t talked about already? I think we all know why this was hated. First, it isn’t funny. I mean don’t get me wrong, the delivery of the joke was fine, but the joke itself sucked and made no sense for Simmons’ character. Say what you want about Grif’s Labyrinth, whether you saw it as good or terrible, but at least it made sense for his character. Simmons… is afraid of aliens cutting off his private parts. I’m…. fairly sure that RvB has done a joke like that before, and it was likely better there. Plus it didn't fit the tone. All the Labyrinths, even Grif’s, were portrayed as either serious or at least uncomfortable for the victim. I guess they wanted something to lighten the mood, but… it failed. Badly. It just took me out of it until we got back to Carolina’s. Even knowing Jason’s original plan of the alien being Simmons dad, while that would have been more impactful, still would have been treated as the final cut was and still would have taken me out of it.

What could have been done instead? IDK. Could have had Simmons relive one of his many embarrassments in high school. Could have been focused on the test anxiety that made him fail and get shipped off to Red Boot Camp. It could have been one of the many traumas that his dad inflicted on him, like being forced on the women’s volleyball team or something. All of those are still lighter than some of the other Labyrinths and could have had a comedic edge, but it still tells us something about Simmons and would make sense for him. I… am still trying to figure out how what we got fits Simmons at all or tells us anything about him. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know. 

The reason that this is Number 4 is because the scene was ultimately brief and Simmons didn’t exactly have a major role up to that point. It was incredibly stupid and not funny, but IDT it ruined his character or anything. Plus at this point, I and many others have gone on about it and there is really nothing left to say until we see what happens in the future. Jason seems to be aware of the critiques, and I imagine that others behind the show would also be aware by now. Maybe it'll be taken into account in future seasons and they’ll finally give Simmons the attention that he deserves.

                           _______________________________

#3. Huggins

Ho boy, I’ve been waiting to let this out since the season ended. So for those who were reading my blog when S16 was airing, you know that Huggins was one of my favorite parts of said season. She was likable and fun, her friendship with Grif was adorable and helped his character massively, and she was just a bundle of joy who made me smile every time that we saw her. Her death, while I knew even then it was likely a fakeout, was a huge shock and had me praying that it being a fakeout was correct. Which it was! I was so happy… until we saw how she was actually handled this season.

Personality-wise, Huggins was fine. Her being able to go through time made sense and was even referenced in S16. But… well, she’s used to discovering that Black Holes lead to the beginning of time, goes through time to find the paradoxes that Genkins made, and… that’s it. In other words, Huggins was nothing but a damn plot device. I have a problem with character shafting, but this one was just unfair. Maybe Jason couldn’t think of anything else to do with her? Maybe her VA wasn't available for much? Maybe they didn’t have the budget to animate since Miles did say that they had a slightly smaller budget at RTX? IDK. There’s any number of reasons why, but it was annoying nevertheless. I mean Huggins only appeared in THREE EPISODES, and the first was only at the very end. After Episode 8, she just… disappeared.

There’s a lot of reasons why I hated this. First, just dropping a character like that despite her clearly being important and prominent is an insult to the character. I have issues with how the Reds and Blues were shafted aside from Donut, Wash, and Carolina, but at least they were still around. Huggins leaves to go find paradoxes in Episode 8 and then is gone. Last we hear of her is in the finale from Donut. But the bigger issue is that, if you remember, she was understandably angry at Grif for deciding to go with the plan to save Wash, even though he knew what would happen. It happened and… there’s zero reconciliation. None. Yes, Grif was happy to see her. Yes, he clearly felt remorseful. Yes, he did apologize. But Huggins never really forgave him, saying that she can't be mad at him at the moment because of the larger picture. But it was pretty clear that, while not enraged, she was still unhappy with him… and they don’t allow the two to talk? At all?! After everything in S16, we couldn’t get closure on that?! Really?!

That was what pissed me off. It pissed me off for Grif’s character, but trust me I’ll be going more into that shortly. But for Huggins, it pretty much just says ‘yeah, we are only bringing this character back for exposition and nothing more’. I know many hated S16, but Huggins was easily one of the factors that people enjoyed. I enjoyed it. As I said, her and Grif’s relationship was easily my favorite part of it and I still enjoy rewatching all of their interactions. IDK if she’ll be back in later seasons. I really hope so because, at the very least, she and Grif should reconcile. But even so, she deserved better than what she got. She was a good character, and she deserved better than what she got. I shouldn't be wondering if her remaining dead would have been a better alternative afterwards. I really shouldn’t. So… hopefully future seasons can maybe fix things, but for now, this remains a major problem for me.

                             _______________________________

#2. Grif Character Shafting

In general, Season 17 had a BAD case of character shafting. Now it’s a huge ensemble cast, so not everyone is going to be able to get attention. I wasn’t that upset that characters like Sarge, Caboose, and Simmons (even if that doesn’t excuse his Labyrinth) not getting much attention because they had already been more lowkey in this story arc. I didn’t mind it with Tucker wither since he got PLENTY of attention with Chorus. Hell, I honestly wish that they kept Wash and Carolina more lowkey because they ALWAYS get the majority of the focus, but for S17’s story it’s understandable why they would so I can forgive it. But you should probably NOT shaft a character who has been one of the central focuses in an ongoing story arc and still had a ton of character development that had to be wrapped up.

You know… like Grif.

Yeah, I won’t lie. While I thought that Grif acted IC and everything… they really dropped the ball with him. I wouldn’t mind that much had S15 and 16 not happened. Those are two seasons that gave Grif a ton of character development. He was essentially the main protagonist in S16, the one most involved in the plot despite how much he tried not to, and began resolving his issues. He went from doing everything in his power to avoid the plot, to openly confronting it and even rejecting the pizza that he had wanted so bad. He was the only one who knew what was about to happen after openly being mocked by Genkins, and despite his best efforts, he failed to stop it…

...and this got aBSOLUTELY NO FOLLOW UP? WHAT THE HELL?! THat’s like if, after Season 11, Tucker acted like none of the events during S11 affected him and didn’t grow as a leader and a soldier. It would come off as super weird since 12 followed the aftermath of S11 and would have been a huge disservice to the character and his development. That’s how it felt here with Grif. At first, it looked like they may show stuff since Grif DID believe Donut at first. But he had to ignore it since Donut isn’t allowed to be listened to. When he got his memory back, everything should have been hitting him then and there. There should have been more anger and probably some guilt about how even when he tried, he still failed and now they have even more bullshit to deal with. But they just… bizarrely ignore it.

I wouldn’t say that Grif regressed, but the fact that there is NO follow-up to his development in a storyline that allowed said development to begin with is a disservice. I get it, they only had 12 episodes and Donut and Wash were the more important. I understand that. And hey, S18 could follow up on it. But there still should have been something. Maybe the reveal about him lying about the enlistment was supposed to be that. Which I did like that… but that was not enough imo. He didn’t reconcile with Huggins. There’s no follow-up about how he failed to stop the paradox. Even for someone as lazy as Grif, we should still be seeing some emotions there. His Labyrinth, while I ultimately don’t hate it and I do see how it can apply to his character, probably should have been something stronger like being stuck back on Iris with the volleyballs mocking him or something.

Character shafting does have to happen in an ensemble cast. But Grif should NOT have been one of them. IDK how they could have incorporated him better while still keeping everything intact, but it’s still frustrating. Again, maybe S18 can provide something. I hope that at least Grif is allowed to reconcile with Huggins and realize that he should actually talk about his issues because I do think that his scene with Kai was an important moment for him. Whether you like to hate the retcon, it makes sense for his character to run away and he’s actually offering to talk about it. Okay, it’s more for Kai’s sake than his own, but he’s still willing to talk about his feelings, which is not something that I could have seen him done without his S15 and 16 development. Hence why I think that is S18 has him be more willing to talk to say Kai or Simmons and about how much S15 and 16 really did affect him instead of trying to brush it aside by calling himself hateglue, he can have a complete character arc. But as far as S17 goes, there’s no excuse for it and was a big problem for me.

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Honorable Mentions

 Aka, the things that annoyed me, but not by much or I didn’t feel were bad enough to add onto the list.

Tucker not taking responsibility/talking to Wash: It was his idea to go and save Wash despite knowing the consequences, so he’s as guilty as Carolina imo. There should have been more focus on that, and about him reconciling with Wash and accepting what had to happen. The fact that they had zero interaction was bizarre tbh. But it isn’t as big of a deal as other things, so I kept it off. Consider this Number 6.

Character shafting: I hated it, and everyone outside Donut, Wash, and Carolina felt wasted. But it’s already a huge cast, so it was bound to happen and Grif’s was the one that manly pissed me off. So I spared it.

Nostalgia banking: That’s a me thing, so I didn’t feel it was fair to add it, especially since it overall did serve a purpose.

Carolina guilt trips need to die: I forgive it here because it worked for the story and was well executed. But... writers, you’ve done Carolina guilt trips since at least S10. It’s lazy and boring now. Come up with something new for her. Let it die.

Donut being ignored: Mainly, I think they played it up too much. DOnut displayed no noteworthy flaws in this season, and pretty much everything revolved around him. On rewatch, this was annoying and made him seem better and more important than everyone else. That’s unfair. But after all the years where he got shit treatment, he earned it honestly, so I forgave it.

And that’s it! So onto Number One!

                          _______________________________

I thought long and hard about what Number One could be. Grif Shafting almost made it, but again the finale scene did actually make me happy. As such, I had only one real option left…

#1. The 12 Episode Count

Imo, this is I think the cause of many of the problems with S17 that I have. This should not have been a 12 episode season. 15 maybe, like last time. But not 12. Now there’s any number of reasons that they decided to go with that. Miles did say at RTX that they had a slightly smaller budget, so maybe they just simply couldn’t afford to do more than what they were able to do. Maybe they just thought that 12 episodes wrapped up the story and that there was no need to exceed that number or try to avoid stressing themselves and others out more. Production is hard and not cheap and you’re not going to be able to do everything that you want or even need to be able to do. As such, I’m not angry at them for deciding this since most likely, they had to work with what they had available.

That being said, it is still a problem. A 12 episode season has both its pros and its cons. With the pros, they were able to keep an overall steady pace and focus on what needed to be focused on without having to extend it or cram in filler. But the cons are you have to cram in as much as possible with limited time and put aside the things that aren’t as important. Grif wasn't as important as the other things. Huggins wasn't as important as the other things. They didn’t have time to elaborate on all the time travel, so they did as much as they could and then focus on the story. And Simmons Labyrinth was just a bad idea and would have still sucked even with a longer episode total, so nothing to say there.

My point is, while I do think that 12 episode seasons could work for RvB, they probably shouldn't have done it in the middle of a story arc. Again, they might not have had a choice, but it’s still an annoyance. The first half was fine and the best of the season. But the second half felt much more rushed and overstuffed. Episodes 7 and 8 shoved in exposition and it came across as more confusing than informing. Donut forgave everyone FAR too easily and it didn’t feel like they genuinely felt sorry after being called out. Which made the moment where he did call them out feel slightly less impactful. Only slightly, Then we rush through fixing the paradoxes and The Labyrinth within like four episodes, which when watching all the episodes together really makes it and the ending feel really anti-climactic. It’s like they shoved a ton of character stuff within like ten minutes, but we don’t get to explore it naturally. A problem that I think 15 episodes would have helped solve, but 12… it just… was not enough.

If they do go with 12 episodes again, I think it’ll work better since they’ll have a new story arc that they cal plan properly for. They didn’t have that luxury here. That, on top of Joe having to leave and Jason having to take over writing duties. Which is another annoyance. IDK the circumstances obviously and not to diminish Jason, but Joe should have been allowed to finish his own damn story, the fans' opinion on if he was good or not be damned. But again for all I know he chose to walk out, so I’m not going to go any further than that. Considering what they did have, the fact that they did make a good product is to be admired. But there’s still a lot of problems imo. Ones that I think that the episode count ultimately caused most of. As such, it is the thing that I dislike about RvB17 the most.

                            ______________________________

Again, this is only my opinion. There was a lot that I did like about RvB17, and when I write the Likes post I’ll gladly talk about them. That being said, I do think that this wasn't as good as 16 and IDC how many people think I’m insane for saying that. It had story issues, character issues, and the second half was ultimately just a mess. A fun mess, but still a mess. No, IDK how any of these could have been done better and IDT it’s so bad that it can’t be amended in later seasons. But overall, these issues did damper my enjoyment and things that I hope to see improved in the future.

Okay! Dislikes are done! Thank God! Now I can do the happy stuff! Hopefully, the Likes post will be ready in a few days. But thank you all for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed~

[iiimber]

Can you do a nsfw of all might and his new wed bride and they go on their honeymoon and she’s a virgin bride but she wants to try everything with him

this is WHIP late and sadly couldn’t fit everything in but i think it’s saucy enough ;>

NSFW BELOW (18 ONLY)

The sounds of crashing waves against rocks filled the room, partnered by heavy breathes and deep groans. The fresh ocean breeze did little to cool your flushed skin, and the man above you offered little help either.

You’re shaking, hands trembling against his broad shoulders; the diamond on your finger twinkles in the moonlight, so you look from his passionate gaze to the beautiful ring. It helps ground you a bit, staring at the symbol of the bond between you and the man you love— he loves you too, he won’t hurt you.

Toshinori sighs through his nose, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours and press a kiss to the side of your mouth. He gently rolls off of you, pulling you into his chest and reaching up to stroke your hair.

The comforting gesture makes you sigh contently, snuggling up into his warmth. His muscled body makes you feel safe and protected, yet it still doesn’t do much to put the nerves from earlier to rest.

“We can continue whenever you’re more ready.” He speaks softly to you, a gentleness only he could have. Toshinori has always been nothing but sweet, and even after your years together and after marrying him, he’s still his same, sweet self.

You nuzzle against his chest, before gently pushing against it until he’s lying on his back. He watches you with wide, interested eyes. The trembling is back, but you’re determined to not let your anxiety get to you this time. The wetness and pulsing between your legs furthers that goal.

Toshinori’s large hands grip your waist when you settle on top of him; grinding down against his hardened length and gritting his teeth. His jaw clenches, grip tightening when a sweet whimper falls from your lips. You’re bare above him, flushed and eyes full of lust; it’s quite literally the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s big, big enough to intimidate you and make this situation all the more frightening. You wanted this though, needed it. There was no way you were going to stop, so you begin to lift your hips in preparation to slide him in…

“Love...wait.” His hands stop you, holding you from sitting on his cock. You look up to his gaze, confusion and embarrassment on your face while you search his for an answer. Does he not want this anymore? Did he change his mind? Was your inexperience a turn-off for him?

A hand slips from your waist to your slick entrance. “It’ll hurt...if you try now.”

Oh.

Toshinori’s thumb gently grazes against the hood of your clit, sending a small jolt of pleasure through your body. He continues, watching you closely as he presses against the bundle of nerves a little harder; breathe hitching when you roll down against him. He rubs in quick circles, little sparks of electricity shooting up and down your legs as with each rotation he presses harder. It feels so good— so different from when you had touched yourself. His fingers are bigger and calloused; a surprisingly pleasurable mix.

You cry out when he circles your clit a little too harshly, and about buckled down against him as a pointer finger slowly slid into your slick heat. The invasion feels odd, his finger as big as two of yours, but the feeling quickly turns back into ecstasy as he curls up against your wall.

He flicks inside of you, a come-hither motion in search of the soft spot inside of you while his thumb never ceases it’s movements against your pearl. He sighs below you as you clench, head thrown back as the pressure begins to build up in your core.

Toshinori swirls his large finger in tandem with his thumb, your hips rocking along with the motion as best as you can— crying out as he adds his middle and stretches. He spreads your walls apart and thrusts, gentle enough to not hurt but hard enough to make your thighs tremble and toes curl. It’s not much longer after he added his second finger until you come, wall pulsing around his digits and covering them with your juices. You twitch a bit, slumping down against him as you recover from your high.

He chuckles, deep and husky against your ear as he rolls you onto your back— spreading yourself out for him. Your body is covered with a thin layer of sweat; (h/c) hair wild against the pillow and strands stuck to your forehead. Your pussy is glistening, all for him and only him. A sharp jolt of arousal shoots through him, a little painful to the point he cringes.

With a sigh, Toshinori settles between your legs, gripping your thighs gently and pulling your core against his. He leans up, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as he lines his cock up to your entrance. “Are you okay, my love?” He doesn’t move, frozen still as he awaits for your approval.

You nod, a tired smile on your lips as you reach up to comb through his hair. He grins, leaning his head into the crook of your neck as he begins to push in.

It hurts, a bit— his girth stretching you open like never before. The slick from your orgasm makes it easier, but the pressure is uncomfortable enough to the point where you’re squeezing his shoulders. You can tell it’s hard not to move quicker, with how much your husband is trembling, but he continues to stay true and move into you slowly.

Toshinori sighs when he bottoms out, fitted inside your tight heat so snuggly he feels like he could pass out. You’re warm and squeezing around him— making it almost unbearable to stay still, until you pat his shoulder and mutter an ‘ok’.

He rolls against you, letting out a loud and deep groan at the friction— it’s so good, moving inside of your clenched walls while your hold onto him for dear life. Your gentle moans are breathy and sweet, pushing him to thrust deep inside of you until you gasp— over and over again as your bodies move together in a lovely, dirty dance.

You’re still sensitive from your orgasm, not lasting much longer with his cock inside of you; with a soft cry you come once more, head lolled back and arms tight around his shoulders. Toshinori groans, gruttual and almost animalistic as your walls clench around him and milk him for all he’s worth. He finishes soon after, a rush of heat inside your walls as he releases with a sigh.

Toshinori is still, resting inside of you for a bit longer until he pulls out. Your husband settles down beside you and pulls you back into his embrace, peppering soft kisses against your face and shoulders while you giggle tiredly. You’re a bit sore and exhausted, but the heat between your legs and the warmth blossoming in your chest keeps you from falling asleep in his arms.

Sitting up and swinging a leg over to straddle him once more, tired blue eyes watch with interest while you grin, running a finger down his chest.

“It’s still pretty early, ‘Toshi...I’m sure we can fit quite a few more things in before the sun rises.”