#granted 'fast' could mean anything and even when i try for 'short' i often miss but let's Believe in me ok

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

(guy who wants to write so bad but has been too busy to properly do anything for his longer/more-plot-heavy fics voice) anyone want to mess around and give me a mini fic prompt

[alluringjae]

until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

​ ⤑ ctto above!!

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

**

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

[wonderlandhatter]

Comfort in you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x femReader

Summary: You have a cuddly secret that is keeping you up at night, and your solution makes Spencer think you are falling out of love. (sorry that's not a great summary)

Word count:2580

Warnings: I don't think there's any, itsy tinny bit of angst if you squint but just a load of fluff

A/N: To be honest I don't know how I feel about this, I like it but idk. if I missed a warning feel free to tell me and if you have any feedback it is very welcome I am looking to improve my writing. Hope someone enjoys this :).

A/N2: My old account got deleted so I'm just reposting my fics I would appreciate if you could bust this so i could get back to where my account was thank you for your time.

Everyone has a source of comfort, something that makes everything bad disappear even for just a moment. For some it was a hobby and for others it was a person, either way everyone had one, yours just happened to be one most people have had but said people have also left it behind, along with wearing dippers and eating crayons.

You weren’t a child; you weren’t you just found comfort in it. So, what if you were in your twenties and still slept with a plushie who's business is it anyways. You can’t help it you just can’t sleep without it; you've had it since the moment you were born, plus your parents never made a move to take it away when you were younger. So here you are now.

It had never really been an issue, yes, your friends teased you but not in a hurtful way besides you had been friends since primary school, so they didn’t really care, as long as you were happy. Now boyfriends are a whole different story. You hadn't had many so it was never really an issue, you have had 3 in total if one of them even counted I mean it lasted until lunch time and you were 5 and  he wouldn’t  have minded since he also slept with a stuffed animal.

Your second boyfriend was in high school, you were sixteen, you hadn’t even thought about the fact he might find it strange so the first time he came over you didn’t try to hide it, it didn’t go well, he called you a baby and threw it around, and got annoyed at you when you asked him to stop because he was going to damage the plushie, the nerve of the guy. Well that did not last awfully long not just because of the plush but because he was a prick.

And now here you were 23 and dating the wonderful Dr Spencer Reid, you guys have been dating for nearly 8 months, and what amazing 8 months have they been. You owned quite a popular bookshop and that is how you met; he had come in a few times before he was able to muster up the courage to even say hello. He found everything about you wonderful, the way you handled books with such care and how you carried yourself with such grace, (the grace one wavers as in his second visit he witnessed you trip twice, but he just he found it endearing and wonderful). Honestly, he already had a bookshop he had frequented previously but this one had something no other shop could ever have. You, and so he kept coming, and you two kept talking, and talking in the shop lead to talking at the coffee shop, which lead to talking over dinner and then talking for 6 months which may have lead to some activities with some inappropriate talking, and now 8 months later and you have never been happier.

Honestly it’s a miracle you’ve made it 8 months without him finding out about your little secret, it helps that you guys hadn’t started having sex until 2 months ago, neither of you had been in a rush and so took your time, and the first time was wonderful, but that’s a story for another time. Another thing that helped was the fact that he was nearly always on a case, he made time for you, and you understood he had to be away and admired his career choice, it just meant that when you were together most of the time you chose to spend time together, saying that there have been times as soon as Hotch has dismissed him he has gone straight to your apartment and is picking you up and too your room, but what can he say, he is just but a man and you are just but a very hot woman. Thankfully that time he had been so preoccupied with getting his clothes off that you were able to put the plush under your bed without him noticing (you did feel bad about shoving  it under the bed but you had no time he was a man on a mission), you hadn’t been able to sleep that night or any night you had stayed with him, so you stopped staying over even if it was just to sleep..

Now the issue came when Spencer got a couple of weeks off from work around the holidays, so you were off too. And oh boy were you tired it wasn’t that you were doing it like bunnies but you did enjoy time together so you wanted to be together for as long as you could, and you were absolutely loving all the stolen kisses and the reading to each other and arguing who the best doctor is (the sex is very good too), the trouble only came at night when he said you should stay, he  hated you being out by yourself at night, too many cases involving creeps, so you would stay.

But after a few days without sleep you were so exhausted, you started making up excuse to not stay and to stop sex, it worked for a few days until it didn’t.

You had been watching some foreign film Spencer had seemed very excited for, you loved watching these with him, not because you understood what they were saying, it was complete gibberish to you, but you quite enjoying feeling his breath on your neck when he leaned down to whisper the translations for you, he knew there were subtitles and you knew there were subtitles but this turned you on and you both knew it. So, it confused Spencer when after the movie was over and after two hours of whispering and you subtly rubbing your thighs together you yawned and said you should get going.

He would never force you into anything, and would never expect sex from you, but he knew you were turned on and he knew you wanted it, he knew what you looked like when you wanted him, he had seen it enough times, and he loved the sight, but here you were clearly frustrated and about to just leave. Don’t misunderstand Spencer here it isn’t just the leaving clearly horny it’s the not having slept in the same bed for days, he knew you had some trouble sleeping any time you had slept over, he just assumed it was being out of your bed, but you almost always went out of your way to not sleep together in your bed. So, he chose to say something.

“Y/N can we talk”, “oh that seems serious” you replied humorously while tying your laces, until you looked  up and saw his face, “you look upset, did I do something”, you said clearly upset,“ No! no you didn’t do anything, well you did but um ahh, I don’t know how to word this”, this was a first, he always had the words to say, normally he couldn’t stop talking, but right know all he was thinking was how his girlfriend couldn’t stand to be on the same bed as him, and how she was doing what she could to avoid sex, he knew he wasn’t overly experienced but neither was she, but he always made sure she was getting some sort of pleasure, and made it his goal to get you to finish at least twice.

What if you had faked it, what if you were falling out of love, was it all the hours he had to work or was…his thoughts were cut short by you “ Spencer please talk to me, what did I do, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you”, he could see the worry in your face and without thinking he just blurted out “do you not like me anymore”, “ What!!!” you said almost immediately, he could see the confusion in your face but you spoke before he could, “Spencer I love you, why wouldn’t I like you anymore, do you not like me anymore”, he saw the hurt in your eyes as your mind wandered and he couldn’t speak fast enough to stop that train he needed to take that hurt away, “no, no god no I love you too, I love you much it’s just that lately you’ve um, you’re always coming up with reasons to not sleep with me, and I don’t mean sex I mean even just sleep, well you’re also avoiding sex but that’s not the point, I also know you never really sleep when you’re with me and I’m sorry if being that intimate with me makes you uncomfortable, because I can see you were turned on after the movie and you were just going to leave and I just need to know if I make you uncomfortable.”, Spencer spoke so fast you were left there stunned and a little embarrassed at him knowing he turned you on but also you were backed into a corner, you could see the pain in his eyes, he though he made you so uncomfortable you couldn’t sleep in the same bed as him, at the thought of how you hurt him your eyes began to water.

“Spencer I don’t know what”, “please don’t deny it Y/N its been over a week since we slept in the same place” Spencer interrupted before you could get your pathetic attempt of n excuse out, so you were going to come clean, he is going to break up with you was the only thing going through your head but you had to tell him, you hurt him and that was worse.

So you mustered up all the courage you had and looked down because you might cry if you looked at him in the eyes, oh well all your courage could only do so much, “you don’t make me uncomfortable Spencer. You’re wonderful that isn’t why”, spencer interrupted before you could continued, he just needed answers,  “then, why?”, “promise me you won’t laugh at me”, he looked confused how could you ever think he would take your feeling for granted and laugh at them, “of course I won’t” he simply said as he gently pulled your chin up with his hand, he could see your you were nervous and so gave you a kind smile, and did something you two do quite often, he offered up his pinkie, you giggled as you put your pinkies together to make a promise, after your pinkies were separated you looked slightly down again and quickly blurted out “Icantsleepwithoutmyplushieandididntwantyoutoseethatistillneededitandthatswhyicantsleepbesideyouandwhyicantsleepwheniamwithyuo” it was so quickly the flash couldn’t have understood, his confused face was honestly adorable but your adoration was cut off by his very confused “what?”, and so you took a deep breath looked at him, thought over your words for a second and finally said much slower, slightly hesitantly and embarrassed  “ I can’t sleep without a plushie,” you said shyly he smiled softly at this and you continued after a beat “that’ s why I can’t sleep when I’m with you, I didn’t want you to know, I mean I’m in my twenties and still sleep with a toy its pathetic, and after a few days of not sleeping I was exhausted and so I  thought I could just avoid having to sleep without it, I understand if you want to break up or if you want to make fun of me”, you stopped talking when Spencer pulled you in for a quick kiss, “sorry you were spiralling and that’s what you do when I’m spiralling”, he smiled while his face was still only a breath away, you simply nodded and made no move to move.

“So you’re not breaking up with me” you asked shyly, assuming since he had just kissed you, “why on earth would I be breaking up with you”, “because its childish and ridiculous that I can’t sleep without it”, he gently smiled and pulled your chin up to look at him with one hand and held your hand with the other. “it isn’t strange or childish, actually 44% of adults still own a childhood toy and 34% of adults sleep with a stuffed animal, its perfectly normal, and honestly really cute” the last bit made you blush but all together you felt better, “thanks bub”, “what for”, you shrugged an simply said for not making fun of you and with that he pulled you into a hug, and neither made an attempt to move.

And so here you were now in Spencer’s car on your way to your apartment, if you were being honest you were too tired to be as embarrassed as you would have normally been, but he wasn’t  shaming you and all you wanted was to sleep by his side. As you got to your apartment complex you walked hand in hand, made your way inside, and went to your room.

Spencer had been there multiple times before so he had some clothes he could sleep in already there (also you may have stolen a good amount so he could borrow those too), so he put some plaid pyjama bottoms on and a graphic tee and made his way to his side of the bed, you had gone to the bathroom to do your skin care routine and came out in some thin cotton pyjama shorts and one of your (his) old Cal tech sweatshirt, he can’t deny he absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes, to him it is possibly one of the most beautiful things he has and will ever see.

You made your way under the covers and cuddled him, you both shared some lazy kisses and light touches before you stopped so you could sleep, you made an attempt to try an sleep without it but Spencer nudged you and gave you a half amused smiled so you sighed dramatically and stretched over to your bedside table were your plushie was living, as you took it out and made your way back to Spencer’s side you held it close so he couldn’t really see it. He wasn’t really having that though.

What he’s curious he wanted to see it, so with a much more amused smile and looking down at his adorable girlfriends he asked “ can I see it”, “no” you answered almost immediately and in more of a grumble against his chest, “please, you look adorable and it looks really soft, can I please see it”, and so without looking up you not so gently pulled it out from nearly fully under you and pushed it to his chest, and hid your face deeper into him. He gently picked it up and inspected it, you didn’t hear him say anything so you looked up and saw him already looking at you with simply love in his eyes, “what?” you asked slightly confused, he simply kissed you and you understood, no words were needed to explain what he felt.

You picked up the toy and hugged it again and Spencer hugged you, you felt safe, you felt loved and overall, you were happy. Maybe Spencer could be your new comfort source, you would never get rid of your plushie but maybe it wouldn’t be a necessity maybe holding him would be enough. But being honest he already was he was enough; he was more than enough. And with that thought you both drifted off exchanging quiet I love yous.

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day nine

kageyama tobio - knees 

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list

NSFW warning featuring: oral sex (reader receiving), a bit of role reversal other tags: pro volleyball player kageyama, some angst, an argument leading to making up (with Sex), mentions of reader being uncomfortable, tobio getting Sassy fem reader

word count: 2140

-

“Tobio, we need to talk.” 

As things usually go with Tobio, he’d been gone for two weeks for work without a single call to you. He was in a different country for weeks, and even though his life as a volleyball player was busy, you knew he had time for at least one call.  But sometimes, it felt like when he was traveling, he stopped being your boyfriend until he got home. He didn’t care about you unless he wasn’t busy. 

And when he got home that night, as usual, all he wanted was one thing. 

“I don’t want to talk.” 

Of course, your feelings went over his head. 

“Tobio.” 

“Can’t it wait?” 

His lips were on your neck, his fingers were unbuttoning your pants; he missed you, obviously he missed you - right? 

He pulled you closer, kissing you the best way he knew how. There was only one thing on his mind. You didn’t know how to make him want anything else; years of knowing him did nothing to teach you how to pull Tobio away from the things he was focused on. 

Right now, he was focused on you. 

At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

His lips trailed down your neck; you watched as he palmed himself over his shorts, rather than attempting to rile you up. Usually, the view alone would do the trick. 

“I want you,” he said, and you felt him attempting to push you toward the floor. “I want your mouth - come on, get on your knees, babe.” 

You cringed, because, “I don’t want to do that.” And everything stopped. 

Right now, Tobio was focused on himself. 

“Oh.” 

He pulled back from you, he got a good look at your face. And it seemed to hit him, all at once, that things weren’t okay. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

The insecurity in his voice almost made you feel guilty. “I don’t know.” 

“Can you tell me why?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He scooted away from you to the other end of the couch. “I was gone for two weeks - didn’t you miss me?” 

“Obviously I missed you,” was your rebuttal. 

“Then why are you mad at me?” 

Discussing a disagreement with Tobio without hurting his feelings was nearly impossible, and you had always known that. And his first instinct was to defend himself, to accuse you of things as a way to have a trump card. It took patience to get through this, which you didn’t often have, so a discussion turns into an argument like burning wood turns to ash. 

“So because I don’t want to suck your dick, you think I’m mad at you?” 

“You said we needed to talk, and you’re always like this when I get back. You always need to talk about something.” 

“Because you leave for weeks without even texting me the entire time, and when you get back you only want one thing from me. Do you miss me, Tobio, or do you only miss my mouth?” 

“Both!” he said, but when he saw your face, “Okay, wait - that was the wrong answer,” and you were already storming to your room. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said through a groan, mainly to yourself because you didn’t realize he was following you. “You fly across the world without even calling to tell me when you land, but you think the moment you’re home I’ll just drop to my knees and serve you. It’s always about you - I’m done.” 

You had every intention of slamming the door in his face, but he was right behind you, in your bedroom before you could even turn around.  

“What do you mean? You don’t mean that.”

You hesitated to reply. 

Tobio didn’t move. 

“What if I do?” 

He didn’t even look up. But he said, “I know you’re right,” and you could hardly believe it. “It’s just hard.” 

Tobio wished he could be successful in his intentions. He felt like he had so much to say, but it felt stupid trying to put his thoughts together. He thought coming home and showing you how much he wanted you would show you how much he missed you - apparently, he was wrong. He assumed you would be too busy to answer any calls or texts from him while he’s away - that was wrong, too. 

But more than anything, he wanted to get it right. So he would explain himself, and get over feeling stupid for a minute, because keeping you was worth it. 

“I don’t like doing long distance - it just makes me sad to call you while I’m away. Makes me miss you more. I don’t know. I don’t want to waste your time with my stupid calls - I don’t know.” 

“They’re not stupid,” you argued. “They make me happy.” 

He jumped at this chance, “Then I’ll call you more,” but your mood didn’t change. “I will. Everyday. I’ll make time - before I go to bed, or… or after I wake up, or you could call me whenever you want. I want to make you happy.” 

He was telling you what you wanted to hear, and you could only hope he meant it. 

“It’s not that easy -” 

“At least let me try,” he said. “I’d rather do long distance than not have you at all. And if I fuck it up you can kick my ass, alright?” 

His seriousness made you break into laughter, but he didn’t budge. He meant it.

“Okay,” you replied. “We can try. I want to try. But don’t think this is going to make me get on my knees for you.” 

He shook his head as he pulled you into him, holding you close. He was happy you were letting him. 

“Shut up.” 

He wanted to kiss you, but wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to. He wanted to show you that he missed you, because telling you never worked how he wanted it to. 

He took a chance and gave you a kiss, one so short and awkward that it made him cringe, but he was happy when you pulled him down for more. And he kissed you like he meant it, the way he always wants to after he gets home and gets to take a break from being on a professional volleyball team. It was deep and messy and hot; it was the definition of his desperation for you. 

When he pulled his lips away, he pulled your body closer to his, and he let his next words slip without even thinking, “I’m the one who should be on my knees for you.” 

“Get on your knees, then,” was your mumbled response. As if on command, Tobio pushed you to the bed, watched you lie down, and then dropped to the ground. 

His eyes were locked on yours as he pulled off your pants, and he was putting on a stern face. Like he was proud to be there, on his knees for you. And while his movements were desperate, they were still delicate. 

He only took his eyes off of yours so he could take a look at your body, and he couldn’t stop looking at it. “I should have done this half an hour ago,” he said honestly. 

Tobio was kicking himself for putting his own pleasure before yours. He always knew he should focus on you more, but this new position only made that fact even more obvious to him. 

But none of that mattered, he was going to make sure of it; now, he was there for you, on his knees and ready to serve only you. His own pleasure didn’t matter - only yours did. 

He tugged you down to the edge of the bed, he threw your legs onto his shoulders, he made himself comfortable between your thighs as he proved to you how determined he was to focus on you alone. 

You sighed his name as his tongue teased your clit, and it made Tobio grin. He knew that he was good at this, and he knew that you were right where you wanted to be. 

He wouldn’t tease you or deprive you of anything you needed; he would let himself do what he knows best, what he knows works, what he knows you love. He pushed your legs open with his hands flat on the inside of your thighs, and as he examined your glistening heat, a once forgotten ache in his pants returned. 

He loved it; he loved you. He didn’t know how someone could be so pretty - he didn’t know he would want someone so much. If he didn’t love the taste of you so much he would have spent the rest of the night looking at you, teasing you, testing you - but that isn’t what either of you needed. 

Tobio would bury himself in you if he could - it felt like that’s what he was trying to do as he dove in, lapping you up. And you felt him everywhere, in the deepest parts of you, places he’d never touched before - it was raw and overwhelming and more than you could take. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was him. And you had missed his touch more than you ever realized - you didn’t need perfection, you only needed him. 

When you started calling his name, his eyes lit up - you looked down and saw striking blue admiration staring back at you, and that was it. You felt him grab your hand and squeeze it, like it was his way asking you to let go for him. 

You held onto his hand and let go of everything else - an orgasm washed over you like ice cold water that left your thighs shaking and your entire body weak. 

Tobio had never felt so proud of himself; finally, he was making you feel good - finally, he was doing something right. 

He didn’t take his mouth off of you until your whines perked his ears, and it was enough to show him that you’d had too much. 

“God, I’ve missed you - I love you,” he admitted as he let his lips trail up to your hips. 

You were too breathless to reply, but you pulled him up so he was off of his knees and hovering over you. 

You had soaked his mouth but you kissed him anyway, hungry and deep. It lit Tobio up inside, a fire was burning in his core - but he ignored it. 

“Stop,” he said when your hand traveled toward the bulge in his pants. “Don’t. I don’t need that.” 

“Don’t you want me to get you off?” 

“No,” he replied. “I want to focus on you. I’ve been selfish for too long, so just let me work for you tonight, alright?” 

You couldn’t argue, not when he was so determined, so you didn't. 

And all night Tobio spent hours spoiling you, never once letting his mind drift to what he wanted - and you couldn’t complain, because you had been needing it for awhile. 

You didn’t take that time for granted. 

In just another week, he’d be in a different country again. 

Like always, your limited time with him went by too fast. And like always, dread pooled in your stomach the moment he was gone, because you were sure you wouldn’t hear from him until he returned. 

You didn’t let your hopes get too high, because you had been let down too many times. 

The first morning waking up without him in your bed was always the hardest. You hadn’t gotten used to waking up in a cold bed yet - missing him hadn’t quite mellowed out. Usually, those mornings are when you want to hear from him the most; usually, you’re disappointed to find he hadn’t reached out. 

That morning, you had one voicemail. 

“Hey,” is how it started, and you smiled as soon as you heard Tobio’s tired voice. “I - uh… I called at a bad time, it’s the middle of the night there… but it’s morning here, so… Yeah. God, this is weird, um… I… I hope this is okay, you know. Good enough. Maybe you can call back in the morning when you get this, if you want… I’m sorry if I don’t answer, I’ll probably be asleep, you know… but leave a message. It’ll be nice to hear your voice, even though it’ll make me miss you more… I already miss you. Uh - anyway - this is awkward, so I’ll go. I just wanted to check in, like I should. I hope it makes you happy or makes you smile, at least. I love you. Good morning, by the way. Okay. I’ll call tomorrow, I will. I love you.” 

You didn’t hesitate to call him back and leave a message for him. 

He was trying. It wasn’t perfect, not yet, but it was him, and it was all you needed.

- 

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 10: promise 

[bokutosworld]

tender love | sugawara k.

pairing: sugawara koushi x gn!reader  word count, genre: 1463 words, fluff, domestic things with sugawara. i may or may have not fallen in love with him while writing this omg.  summary: ever since sugawara met you, he’d discovered a new meaning to home. it wasn’t a place anymore, but a person. home was you.  

“Don’t move for a bit.” Snuggling his face on the juncture between your neck and shoulders, you shuddered at the warm sensation. “I really missed you,” he mumbled. “Right after the conference, I went here as fast as I could just to see you.” 

“I’m home!” 

The smell of cooking instantly greets you the moment you step foot inside your house. You could hear some chatters coming all the way from the kitchen and you wonder who your mom was talking to. From what you remember, you weren’t expecting any visitors today but a glance at the shoe racks by the side of the door lets you in that someone else was here. 

You briefly go to the living room to drop off your bag and hang your coat on the rack. A pile of folders and a familiar beige coat catches your eye, but you don’t pay it that much attention, thinking that it’s your mind playing tricks on you. 

Besides, he couldn’t be here right now. Sugawara should be halfway across the country, attending some important conference on behalf of their school. 

Or at least that’s what you thought. 

“You’re back!” He beams at you, leaving his task of cutting onions to welcome you in his arms. He presses a chaste kiss on your lips, “Welcome home! Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Your mom and I are making your favorite food.” He grins and ruffles your hair before quickly going back to your mom’s side, assisting her in preparing the dish. 

Dumbfounded you stood in the middle of the room. Perplexed you felt as you watched Sugawara deftly move around the place as if he’s memorized every nook and cranny of your family kitchen, a gentle smile on his face as he’s now placing the ingredients on the pot and stirring them carefully as they begin to boil. 

Your mom’s gleefully talking his ear off, making some remarks about how you’ve been busy the past few days. And your boyfriend nods, pouting when he glances at you and mentions how he’s also been worried about you, especially since he was away for the past week. So occupied in watching Sugawara and entertaining the questions that were running in your mind, you failed to hear what he had just said. 

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” 

“I’m sorry.” You quickly moved to stand behind him, meekly wrapping your arms around him. A rare occurrence for you to be the first one to initiate some sort of intimacy, especially under your parents’ roof. But you missed him, so tonight, you didn’t really mind. “Did you need anything?” 

Sugawara caught on your actions, putting his hand atop yours. “I was just asking if you wanted some chili in this stew or not.” 

“Oh, I’d love some.” 

“I got you.” He turned back to adjusting the flavor of the dish, making sure it was to your liking. “Oh, can you also help set up the table?”  

Humming in response, you slowly detach yourself from him and join in dinner preparation, taking mental note to whisk him away for some privacy later.   

---

“Oh, Koushi! You are such a good cook!” Your mom praised as she took her first bites of your boyfriend’s cooking. “This is delicious. You’re like a natural.” 

Flustered at her comments, he waves a hand. “Please, I only did as you instructed. The directions were easy to follow and I’m glad it turned out great.” All the while, Sugawara has been scooping more soup and putting all your favorite toppings and vegetables on your bowl.  

Your mom smiled at the gesture, noting how he liked to dote on you. The conversation on the table then shifted to his conference, how his travel was, how the event went, and what was discussed. One of the many things that you liked about Sugawara was how passionate he was when approaching things. You remember how he was like back in high school. 

A vice-captain for the school volleyball team. His members often commented about how gentle, caring, and selfless he was. They saw him as the superglue that kept the whole team together, and his words never failed to inspire and uplift when spirits were down. Everyone looked up to him, including you.

And that same passion was still burning within him even today as he’s now teaching kids. You see it every time when he videocalls you after a long day’s work, you hear his excitement and his fondness for the young ones through stories that he shares. 

“Long story short, this school year is going to be filled with lots of activities for the kids. It was a consensus from the faculty staff that we should let them try new things so they can find their passion as young as they are now,” he excitedly shares.  

“Well, that sounds great. I just hope you won’t overwork yourself,” your mother turns to glare at you. “And I sure hope they’re taking good care of you.” 

“Mom!” You protest, ready to defend yourself but Sugawara takes hold of your hand and speaks up. 

“Don’t worry, they’re the best partner I could ever ask for,” he says as he turns to look straight in your eyes. His gaze full of love and affection and you feel your breath being knocked out of your lungs. “They make me the happiest that I’ve ever been, and I feel like I could anything with their support.” His declaration of love only intensifies the beating of your heart and you could feel the blood rushing to your face. 

As he coos over you and teasing you for being shy, your mom only chuckles, her own heart warming at the sight of true, pure love blossoming in front of her. 

---

Right after dinner, you pushed your mom to retire to the living room and watch her shows, leaving you and Sugawara to take care of the dishes. The two of you worked in perfect sync as you washed the dirty plates and utensils. Nothing but silence and his occasional humming filled the room as you busied yourself with the task at hand. 

When the last plate has been washed and Sugawara has dried and put it in the cupboards, you went ahead to wipe the counters and clean it of any residue. You jumped when a pair of arms sneakily snaked around your waist and felt something heavy rested on your shoulders.  

“Don’t move for a bit.” Snuggling his face on the juncture between your neck and shoulders, you shuddered at the warm sensation. “I really missed you,” he mumbled. “Right after the conference, I went here as fast as I could just to see you.” 

A light smile donned your face, though he couldn’t see it. You put down the towel and dried your hands, tangling your fingers on his soft hair. “I missed you too.” 

The two of stayed like that for a while, enjoying solitude in the middle of the empty kitchen with only the sounds of the television coming from the living room. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” Granted, it wasn’t that late in the evening yet. A glance on the digital clock states that it was only 8:43 PM, but he was gone for two weeks and right now, you wanted nothing more than to be in the presence of your lover. 

“Your mom might get mad at me.” You can hear amusement in his voice, and the telltale signs of teasing as soon as he replied. He pulled away from you and turning you around so you can see the smirk on his face. “I can’t believe you would suggest something like that. Sleeping in together when we’re not even married yet.” 

Scoffing, you hit his chest rather strongly and glared at him. “Stop, that’s not what I mean.” The two of you exchanged knowing looks before bursting out in loud laughter. Because surely, you’re past that stage in your relationship, already knowing each other personally and intimately. 

Sugawara tugs you close to him, once again embracing you and relishing in your warmth. His chin on the top of your head, he sighs contentedly, “This is nice.” Then after a minute, “Have I told you I love you lately?” 

You tighten your hold on him, “You could always tell me again.”  

In this moment, Sugawara thinks that this is something that he could get used to – working in the morning and coming home to a house with you in it. It is a future that he has been hoping for and he wishes that you yearn for the same thing because he honestly couldn’t wait for the right time when he would get down on one knee and pop that question.

And as you’re both lost in your own world, tucked in each other’s arms, you miss the way the television turns off. You miss the presence of your mom lingering by the door, smiling as she deduces just how perfect you were for each other. 

[headcanonsandmore]

Hermione and Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Weasley

Summary:  A Romione WLW AU, with Hermione and her best friend Veronica 'Ronnie' Weasley, the sweet redheaded girl who... well, who Hermione finds herself very confused about.

This fic was inspired by a similar AU scenario fic by @hillnerd. As with everything Hilly does, her fic is amazing, but hopefully my fic doesn’t look too bad by comparison. 

                  Read on FFN.                                      Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~

Hermione Granger had a problem.

Well, not so much a problem. More of a…. confusion. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

And it had to do with her best friend. Veronica “Ronnie” Weasley.

Ronnie was funny, sweet, kind, and athletic. Over six foot tall, with a mane of long red hair and a mass of freckles, she immediately caught the eye. The boys couldn’t help but notice her, and many of the girls either admired her or felt jealousy towards her. Hermione had lost count of the time she’d seen Dean and Seamus staring at Ronnie from across the common room. On a few occasions, she’d even seen Neville blush after Ronnie had smiled at him.

Not that Ronnie noticed any of this. The redhead had always felt lacking, either to her older brothers or to her younger sister Ginny. Ronnie was, like all her siblings, good at schoolwork, but she had never felt like she could stand out. She had confided to Hermione that, even if she had done well, no-one would ever think much of it, since her brothers had all done it before.

And then there was Ginny. Ronnie’s little sister was about almost a foot shorter, and with more of a nervous energy than that of her older siblings. Hermione had often wondered whether the Weasleys all had a set amount of passion, and that those of a shorter persuasion tended to be more on-edge than their lankier siblings. Granted, this theory didn’t necessarily explain why the short Charlie was so relaxed, while the taller Percy was the exact opposite. Maybe the Weasleys all just reacted differently to their circumstances.

Ronnie was not an intense person. In fact, Hermione found her almost supernaturally relaxed and affable. More prone to telling a chuckle-inducing joke as opposed to an over-the-top prank that was the preferred tactic of Fred and George.

Hermione preferred Ronnie’s way of doing things. Hermione liked a lot about Ronnie. Even if Ronnie personally thought her own matey-ness with people made her unattractive, Hermione couldn’t imagine why such friendliness and kindness could be considered unappealing.

To boys, of course. Yes, just to the boys.

Hermione had the distinct impression that Ronnie felt lacking compared to her little sister. Maybe it was Ronnie’s lack of interest in “girly” things, or her seeming-inability to act with “decorum” (as Hermione’s parents would have put it). It was common for Ronnie to wear a pair of hand-me-down school trousers instead of skirts because, as she herself put it, she hated having to worry about whether people could see up her legs.

Hermione always found herself flustered whenever Ronnie joked about this. Ronnie did have very long legs after all.

She had been friends with Ronnie for years, ever since the Halloween of first year. They hadn’t exactly gotten along before then but, since the incident with the troll, they had become firm friends. It was nice being friends with someone else in the girls dormitory; Lavender and Parvati had never really clicked with Hermione. Ronnie was the first female friend Hermione had ever had.

And then third year had happened.

The two of them had fallen out over their pets. Crookshanks and Scabbers had never gotten along and, at one point, it had looked like Crookshanks had eaten Ronnie’s rat. It had been really lonely not speaking to Ronnie for all that time.

But they had become friends again, and things had settled back to how they had been before.

Well, not exactly.

Ronnie had always been a good friend, but Hermione hadn’t understood why she had missed Ronnie so much when they weren’t speaking. She certainly hadn’t missed Harry in the same way, which was even weirder considering that Harry was a boy.

Hermione had missed Ronnie’s smile, her laugh, her beautiful red hair, the way she would throw an arm around Hermione’s shoulders as they walked to class, the way she would bound up to her and hug Hermione tightly, and the way she would stretch out in the common room so that Hermione couldn’t help but notice her-

Yes, she had certainly missed her friend Ronnie. The same friend who made butterflies appear in Hermione’s stomach whenever Ronnie smiled at her. The same friend who began to inhabit Hermione’s dreams in ways she was becoming very confused about.

Hermione had hoped that… whatever this was would disappear over the summer holidays, and she could just enjoy her friendship with Ronnie with no extra complications.

No such luck. Fourth year had just made everything even more confusing. Harry and Ronnie hadn’t spoken for a while after Harry’s name had appeared in the goblet of fire. Hermione had desperately tried to patch things up between them but, in the end, they had worked it out themselves after the first task.

It was good for them to be a trio again. Although Hermione, Ronnie and Harry had always been a bit unusual. Parvati and Lavender had always been giggling over it, asking both Hermione and Ronnie about which of them Harry was dating. Hermione had always rolled her eyes at this. To her, Harry had always been like a younger brother. Like all younger brothers, he was always getting into mischief and being annoying, but he was her brother nonetheless.

Ronnie had always laughed her head off whenever this question was proposed by Lavender and Parvati. Harry was “her best mate”. End of. Nothing more to say.

But… well, as the Yule Ball approached, suddenly Ronnie stopped laughed and started blushing, avoiding Hermione’s eyes.

‘It’s none of your business,’ she had mumbled, her ears flashing their tell-tale pink.

Hermione had felt her heart slowly sink, although she tried to avoid thinking about why.

Sure enough, the day before the Yule Ball, Hermione had asked Harry about who he was taking, and the boy who lived had blushed scarlet.

‘Er… I asked Ronnie.’

Hermione dropped the book she was holding. The two of them were in the library.

‘What? You mean… you…’

‘I-I don’t know, okay!’ Harry stammered. ‘It’s just… I needed a date for the Ball and Ronnie’s my best mate, so it made sense.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah.’

At that moment, someone tapped Hermione on the shoulder. It was Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion.

‘Excuse me, may I have a vord?’

Harry looked at the Bulgarian suspiciously.

‘Yes, it’s fine,’ Hermione said, leading Krum away into the next aisle of bookshelves. ‘Which section are you looking for?’

‘No… I… er…’

 *

 ‘Krum?!’

Ronnie’s face looked horrified. It was several hours later, in their dormitory.

‘Well, it wasn’t as if I was going with anyone, so why not?’

‘He’s eighteen, Hermione!’ Ronnie said, urgently. ‘He’s way too old for you!’

‘He’s not dating me, Ronnie,’ Hermione replied. ‘He’ll be more like a chaperone than anything else. Besides, it’s just one ball. It’s not like he’s asking to marry me.’

‘I should think not!’ Ronnie’s face was strangely angry. ‘You’re too good for him.’

Hermione felt her cheeks blush.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Er, congratulations about you and Harry, by the way.’

‘You… you know about that?’ Ronnie asked.

Hermione nodded, wondering why the mood suddenly felt so tense.

‘Yes, he told me earlier. It was nice of you to go with him.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yes. I think you’ll have a great time.’

Hermione hoped that her voice didn’t sound as falsely-cheery as she suspected.

 *

 The Yule Ball was something of an event. It was interesting hearing from Viktor Krum about what Bulgaria was like, but she found herself distracted. Possibly due to the fact that Ronnie and Harry were sat only a few chairs down the table, and kept giggling over stuff. Ronnie was wearing a very lacy dress that Mrs Weasley had only managed to get third-hand; since Ronnie was so tall compared to most girls, her clothes had always been a bit… well, difficult to acquire on a budget. The dress was a few inches shorter than her normal summer shorts were, and Hermione had got the distinct impression that Harry was trying not to stare too much when they had walked through the crowd with the other champions and their partners.

Hermione probably would have enjoyed the dancing too, except that she kept looking round to see what Ronnie and Harry were up to. Ronnie’s hair was long and had a sweet flowery scent that seemed to follow it around the room. Her smile was wide as she danced with Harry, and the way she kept laughing made it difficult for Hermione to concentrate on her own dancing. Why was she so distracted?

‘Vould you like a drink?’ Viktor Krum asked, after a very fast song had finished.

Hermione nodded, and he left for the buffet table.

At that moment, Hermione noticed that Harry and Ronnie were walking towards the balcony area.

Deciding to catch up with them, Hermione darted between several other couple, and poked her head out through the curtains.

Her stomach turned to lead.

Harry was kissing Ronnie on the mouth, and Ronnie was kissing him back.

Stumbling backwards through the curtain, Hermione pushed through the crowd and began to make for the exit. However, she bumped into Ginny and Neville.

‘I’m… feeling a bit unwell,’ she mumbled. ‘Could you tell Viktor Krum that I’ve had to leave?’

Ginny and Neville nodded, but looked concerned and a little confused.

Hermione didn’t stop hurrying until she had arrived back in her dormitory. She washed her make-up off, changed into her pyjamas, and climbed into her four-poster bed.

She had started crying before her head even hit the pillow.

 *

 ‘So… yeah.’

‘Bit weird, but… well, that’s it.’

It was the next day. Harry and Ronnie were talking to Ginny about what had happened. Hermione was eating her breakfast without looking at any of them.

‘So… are you two dating?’ Ginny asked.

Ronnie laughed nervously.

‘No; but… well, we’re gonna see how things change. If it’s not our cup of tea, we can stay friends instead.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, cheerfully. ‘Take a bit more than kissing for us to stop being best mates.’

‘Yeah, but…’ Ginny said, her eyes darting to Hermione and then back to Ronnie. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Er, yeah,’ Ronnie said. ‘H-Hermione, what do you think?’

Hermione blinked hurriedly.

‘Oh, I’m sure you two will be very happy,’ she said, a little too cheerfully. ‘I hope you don’t me being a third wheel, then. Anyway, we need to get to first period now.’

Harry nodded, and stood up.

Ronnie remained sitting, looking at Hermione with a slightly confused expression on her freckled face.

Ginny gave a sigh, and went back to her breakfast.

 *

 The next few weeks were not fun for Hermione. Ronnie and Harry had always been a duo and, now that they were sort-of together, Hermione had never felt more like a third wheel. Even though both of them were clearly trying their best not to exclude her, she couldn’t help but feel miserable.

And that wasn’t even getting into the way her heart would thump painfully whenever she caught Ronnie looking at Harry.

It was ridiculous. Hermione couldn’t be jealous! What was there to be jealous of? Harry was like a brother to her, so it clearly wasn’t that.

No, it was something else.

It was Ronnie.

Hermione was in love with Ronnie.

She tried to not think about this. Which normally would have been difficult. But luckily, they were both helping Harry about the second task, which took up a lot of time and mental headspace. And their coursework was so time-consuming that Hermione barely had time to think about her feelings for Ronnie.

Could girls even fall for each other? Hermione had read about that sort of thing happening, but she never would have imagined that it would happen to her.

The day before the second task, she (along with Ronnie) were helping Harry with his preparations for the second Triwizard task, when the Weasley twins arrived.

‘Ronnie, you and Hermione have got a message from Professor McGonagall.’

‘What?’ Hermione asked, confused. ‘She can’t seriously ban us from helping Harry, can she?’

‘No, she just wants you and Ronnie to go to Dumbledore’s office.’

Hermione exchanged confused glances with Ronnie.

When they arrived at Dumbledore’s office, they were not the only confused people there. Cho Chang was also there, plus a young girl speaking in fluent French who was presumably Fleur Delacour’s little sister.

Dumbledore explained about what the second Triwizard task was, and how it would include all of them. Each of the champions would have a hostage, who would be in an enchanted sleep at the bottom of the great lake. The hostages would be perfectly safe underwater, and would return to normal once they were brought back to the surface of the lake.

‘Professor,’ Hermione asked, raising her hand. ‘I don’t understand; why has Harry got both me and Ronnie as his hostages? And where is the hostage for Viktor Krum?’

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

‘Miss Granger, you are Mister Krum’s hostage, not Mr Potter’s.’

Hermione’s eyes widened in confusion. Viktor Krum? She was his “the person he would miss most”? Why? She’d been to the ball with him, but that was it. She hadn’t really spoken to him much since, aside from apologising for leaving the Yule Ball early. Why was she his hostage? Surely, he had friends from Durmstrang that would be a better pick?

Hang, on. Ronnie was Harry’s hostage. The person Harry would miss most.

So, that meant Ronnie was…

Hermione felt her heart sink. She couldn’t even look Ronnie in the eye, but she felt the redhead tense next to her.

Maybe Harry and Ronnie will become a full couple after he rescues her in the task, Hermione thought, miserably, as she slipped into unconsciousness from the sleeping spell Dumbledore had casted, I guess there never was any hope for me…

The next thing Hermione knew, she was treading water in the middle of the great lake. Viktor Krum was pulling her towards the shoreline. Her uniform felt heavy and sodden.

‘Where’s… where’s Harry and Ronnie?’ she asked, as Madam Pomfrey bustled them over to a tent nearby. ‘Haven’t… haven’t they come back yet?’

Madam Pomfrey patted her hand in sympathy, and tutted under her breath, as if she’d quite like a word with the person who came up with the idea for the second task.

A portion of pepper-up potion later, plus some warming spells, and Hermione was stood on the shoreline with Cho Chang and a very worried-looking Fleur Delacour. The French girl’s hostage was still down in the lake. Cho had put an arm around her.

‘They’ll be fine,’ the Ravenclaw was saying. ‘The judges won’t let any harm come to- oh, hello, Hermione.’

‘Hello. Have… have Harry and Ronnie got back yet?’

Cho shook her head.

There was a shout from the crowd, and Hermione looked round. Three people had just surfaced in the middle of the lake. Hermione could see a mane of very familiar red hair. Dashing past Viktor Krum (who seemed intent on chatting to her about something), Hermione wade into the shallows of the water. Fleur Delacour and Percy Weasley joined her.

‘I’m fine, Harry,’ Ronnie was saying, as Harry helped her towards the shore. The two of them were stood awkwardly in the shallows. Percy had stopped fussing over Ronnie, and had gone to find them some warm blankets, followed by the Delacour sisters.

Harry leaned forward and kissed Ronnie on the lips.

Hermione felt her heart sink and, turning away, she walked out of the lake, ignoring Viktor Krum’s renewed attempts at conversation, and left for the castle. People looked at her in confusion as she pushed past. She was glad that she had been given the pepper-up potion, as the February wind whipped through her.

Before she knew it, she was lying in her four-poster bed, crying her eyes out. She had somehow managed to close the curtains around her before she broke down completely. When was she ever going to get over this? She had no “claim” on Ronnie; after all, Ronnie liked boys, Ronnie liked Harry. And, next to Harry, why would Ronnie possibly look at Hermione? A bookworm. A girl. Just the best friend.

‘H-Hermione?’

Ronnie. Oh, god, Hermione thought, she can’t see me like this…

‘G-go away, Ronnie.’

‘What, and leave you miserable? Not on your life.’

‘I’m-I’m fine, Ronnie. J-just a bit exhausted from the task.’

‘Did… did Krum do something to you?’

‘No!’ Hermione exclaimed, pulling back the curtains of her four-poster. ‘Of course not! He’s barely even held my hand! What… how could you…’

‘W-well,’ Ronnie said, her ears turning pink. ‘You were “the person he would miss the most”, after all.’

Hermione stared at her for a second.

‘I don’t see Viktor Krum like that,’ she said, earnestly. ‘He’s… well… like a chaperone.’

‘He fancies you.’

‘You mean like Harry fancies you?’

Ronnie looked as if Hermione had slapped her.

‘You… you saw him kissing me, then?’

Hermione nodded.

‘Is that why you’re crying?’

Hermione mentally cursed. Her cheeks were still wet with tears.

‘I’m… I’m very happy for you both.’

‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Hermione,’ Ronnie said, hotly. ‘You’re clearly upset about it. What, you fancy Harry or something?’

‘What? No!’ Hermione said. ‘Harry’s like a brother to me! Why would you-’

‘Well, what’s your problem, then?!’ Ronnie exclaimed, coming to stand barely a few inches away from her.

‘Don’t be… it’s… well…I-’

‘Hermione, what is it?’

‘It’s not Harry that I fancy, Ronnie; it’s you!’

There was a deafening silence.

‘I… I shouldn’t have said that,’ Hermione mumbled. ‘Sorry, forget I-’

‘No, what do you mean?’ Ronnie asked. ‘Do… do you mean that?’

‘Y-yes,’ Hermione whispered. ‘I’m sorry. I know you don’t see me like that. I’ve ruined our friendship-’

Hermione stopped talking. Because Ronnie had suddenly leaned forward and was kissing her on the mouth. Hermione’s brain seemed to disengage. Ronnie’s lips were soft and delicate as they pressed against Hermione’s. The redhead’s body heat felt like a warm fire against her, despite how little they were touching.

A few seconds later, although it could have lasted for hours for all that Hermione knew, Ronnie pulled away slightly.

‘Do… do you really mean that?’ Ronnie whispered, her hands tender as they interlaced with Hermione’s. ‘You… you really fancy me?’

Hermione nodded, feeling very confused.

‘Yes. Ever since… actually, I don’t know when. But… why…’

‘I… I fancy you, Hermione,’ Ronnie said, softly. ‘I… I thought you didn’t feel the same way.’

‘You fancy me?’

‘Er, did I not just kiss you? Would have thought it’d be a giveaway…’

Hermione giggled.

‘Okay, I believe you. But how-’

The door opened. Harry poked his head through.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Ronnie said, cheerfully as she held Hermione’s hand. ‘She’s okay. And so am I.’

‘Cool. And… did you both…’

Ronnie nodded.

‘Fantastic!’ Harry said, grinning. ‘I’m so happy for you two!’

‘W-wait, what?’ Hermione exclaimed, utterly at sea. ‘Harry, did… did you know?’

‘I guessed. Besides, me and Ronnie work better as friends anyway.’

‘You… you two aren’t a couple?’ Hermione gasped, looking between them both. ‘I thought… after you kissed at the lake-’

‘You are one daft maid,’ Ronnie chuckled, pecking her on the cheek. ‘But that makes two of us, eh?’

Hermione smiled, as she held Ronnie’s hand. Maybe, on occasion, the best friend did get the girl. Even if they were also a girl, too.

 ~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed it!

[aquariuscurly94]

Term: Jealously

Summary: Jealously: A word that generally refers to the thoughts or feelings of insecurity, fear, and concern over a relative lack of possessions or safety. 

 It is a term that Raven had often felt among other people but never on herself. She had felt anger, fear, worry and other emotions within herself, but never the emotion of jealously.  

She had always thought she would never feel the need to be jealous of anyone or anything. She had always found it useless whenever she had felt a wash of jealously that would come from other people. She had never understood why people would feel that way towards another human being.  However, her thoughts on the term had changed recently.  

Very recently.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the DC universe!!! I just own the plot!

AN: I cannot believe that DamiRae week 2021 is about to be over!! I have seen many great works of art and fics and I truly hope that you guys had fun this week! And I truly hope that you guys will like this little beauty because it is Pre- DamiRae lol

Jealously: A word that generally refers to the thoughts or feelings of insecurity, fear, and concern over a relative lack of possessions or safety.

 It is a term that Raven had often felt among other people but never on herself. She had felt anger, fear, worry and other emotions within herself, but never the emotion of jealously.

 She had always thought she would never feel the need to be jealous of anyone or anything. She had always found it useless whenever she had felt a wash of jealously that would come from other people. She had never understood why people would feel that way towards another human being.

 However, her thoughts on the term had changed recently.

 Very recently.

 She tried to tear her lavender gaze away from a couple that was dancing in the middle of the ballroom that was filled with other rich and famous citizens of Gotham City. The woman had long auburn hair that was swaying back and forth gently against her dark blue off the shoulder dress that she was wearing. Her partner that she was dancing with had short dark hair, forest green eyes and olive skin, wearing a fancy black and white suit paired with a short green bow tie.

 “They would make such a lovely couple don’t you think?” Raven hears an elderly woman ask her in a hush whisper, leaning in close as if not to disturb the pair that was circling back and forth in a waltz even though the tune of a classic Beethoven was playing around them loudly. “I can see the headlines now: Damian Wayne and Bethany Rosewater Officially Together Finally,” the older woman giggled at the made-up title that she had thought of. “Ah, young love. Do you have a boyfriend miss?”

 Raven managed to look away to look down at the short heavy-set woman that was standing next to her. She gave her a tight smile. “I… don’t unfortunately,” she answered the woman, trying to swallow down a sudden tightness that she was feeling in her chest.

 The kind gray haired woman eyed Raven up and down, taking in her black dress that she was wearing, frowning slightly at the sight of her plum long hair that had fallen over her pale shoulder. “Hmmm,” she said, and Raven wanted so badly to roll her eyes but held herself back. “You are…interesting looking. I am sure that you will find someone soon dear.”

 Raven sighed heavily at the woman before turning her attention back towards the pair that was still dancing gracefully on the dance floor. She studied Bethany’s face as Damian swung her around, smiling ear to ear as she spun around in a small circle before she had collided gently against his chest. Raven’s eyes widen slightly when she could’ve sworn that she had saw Damian’s upper lip twitch upwards which made her breathing hitched slightly and her chest tighten once more.

 Her whole body froze when she had felt a prick from her finger on the wine glass that she was holding and looked down at the cracked surface and realized if she had squeezed it any further it would’ve shattered under her hold.

 “Excuse me,” Raven said to the woman, walking backwards so she could get away from the crowd around her. She tried to calm her sudden wave of emotions as she tries to find somewhere to clear her mind. She tipped her head slightly when she spotted an open balcony and quickly made her way over to it. “Air. That’s what I need.”

 She leaned over the railing of the balcony, wondering why she had decided to go to this stupid gala event in the first place. She rolled her eyes when she remembered that it was his idea to invite her to represent the rest of the Titans because they had helped stopped several crimes in the city of Gotham when the Dark Knight had asked for assistance to stop a villain from terrorizing citizens of Gotham.

 Raven was confused when Damian had asked her to represent the Titans and not someone like Kori who is one of the leaders of the team. Dick Grayson was no go because he has to show up to the gala to show face for the Wayne Enterprises along with Damian who was the son of Bruce Wayne.

 She had only spoken to the younger Robin once when Bruce Wayne and Dick came over to speak to her briefly before going their separate ways to mingle with the guests. Damian was preoccupied speaking with board members and her.

 Bethany Rosewater.

 Raven had seen the auburn-haired woman before on some model magazine that Garfield Logan had shoved into her face one day. Apparently, she’s the daughter of some board member of the company and her father is close friends with Bruce hence why Damian had danced with her. She had seen other pictures of her in the magazine as well as several photos on her Instagram account and some of them were with Damian which had thousands of likes on it.

 She didn’t mean to scroll through the page. In all honesty at the time, she didn’t know that she was doing it until she had spent all night going through each picture that Bethany had posted. Raven could remember some of the comments that were written underneath pictures of Bethany and Damian and it had made Raven frown at each one.

 “They would make such a cute couple!”

 “Ugh, she’s so lucky! I mean, just look at him!”

 “Maybe they are already dating but is keeping it under wraps?”

 Raven had almost broken her phone from reading all the comments before she had managed to shut off her phone and put aside her.

 She doesn’t understand why she was feeling this way towards a woman that she barely knows. She doesn’t understand why she should care at all really. Granted, Bethany is beautiful and Damian is… she even couldn’t think of a word to describe the the green eyed Robin but knew that he was more than decent looking in that department and that was why the entire Gotham City wants the model and the heir of Wayne Enterprises to be together and the more she thinks about the possibility of them becoming an IT couple, the more her chest would burn at the thought.

 Raven’s amethyst eyes widen in surprise when she realizes as to why her chest was burning and why she had stormed out of the ballroom when she had grown tired of watching them dancing. She placed her hand over her chest in hopes to calm down her beating heart that was pumping fast.

 Raven was jealous.

 Jealous.

 The daughter of Trigon was jealous, and it was an emotion that she had felt on others and never on herself. Raven had no reason to ever feel jealous on anyone! She had always thought it was a useless emotion wasted for ridiculous reasons that had caused war and chaos throughout time and here she was… feeling jealous of a woman.

 The real question that Raven must ask herself was why: why was she jealous of that woman that was dancing with Damian?

 Was it because of the way that she had looked tonight at the gala? Raven shook her head no at the question. Was it because of that elderly rich woman that had mentioned that they would make a great couple? Again, Raven had shook her head no at the question. Then what was it that made Raven jealous?

 “She… she made him smile,” she whispered to herself, balling a fist that was on the railing of the balcony when she had finally answered her own questions. “It was because of the smile.”

 There are only a few people that can manage to bring out a smile from the former assassin. And when he does smile, it would bring warmth throughout her body when she feels a calm emotion that would come from him whenever he does twitch his upper lip ever so slightly. She shouldn’t feel jealous over the fact that someone other than her or the other members of the Titans made him smile.

 No. It was something else. Something deeper than that and Raven needs to figure out what it is and resolve it.

 “The party is inside Raven. What are you doing out here?”

 Raven turned around to find Damian leaning against the entryway of the building with his arms crossed and his brow lifted as he studied her. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I needed a minute,” she told him truthfully, knowing that it wasn’t a lie. “What are you doing out here? Won’t Bethany Rosewater miss you?”

 Damian snorted as he leaned off the entryway to walk over to stand next to Raven on the balcony. He leaned his back against the railing to stare at the guests inside the Wayne Manor. “She’s preoccupied at the moment,” he answered her when he had spotted the auburn-haired woman mentioned talking to someone. “There’s something bothering you,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone after a lull of silence.

 Raven shook her head at him. “I just needed a minute. That doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong,” she explained to him with a small sigh.

 “Raven…” Damian said sternly, lifting his forest eyes to stare into her indigo ones and Raven knew that he could tell that she was lying to him and backed away when he leaned in closer to her. “Tell me what is bothering you.”

 Even though she was in heels, Damian was still towering over her with his height as he walked closer to her when she tried to back away from him. “Damian…” she warned him, placing a hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer towards her. “Back off.”

 “Not until you tell me what’s bothering you. I would also suggest that you don’t lie to me as well.”

 “Why does it matter what I feel?” she asked him with a scoff, crossing her arms across her chest.

 Damian paused his steps and cocked his head to the side and rolled his eyes at her as if she had just asked a ridiculous question and in his opinion she did. “It matters to me Raven. Tell me.”

 She thought about telling him. Even if she doesn’t truly know exactly what she wanted to tell him because it is all confusing to her to experience an emotion that is foreign to her and doesn’t exactly know how he would react to it. All she could do was shake her head and turned away from him to start walking back inside. “I’m going back inside. You should also before Bethany starts to look for you.”

 Raven’s breath got caught in her throat when Damian grabbed her wrist to make her stop walking inside. She tried to concentrate on the guests that were inside the manor chatting with one another when she couldn’t ignore a wave of irritation that was coming from him. “Not until you tell me what is wrong.”

 Raven knew at this point the former assassin won’t give up on his quest to find out what is bothering her and sighed when she broke free of his hold that he had on her wrist. “Are you…together with her?” she whispered, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she would feel about his answer.

 Damian knitted his brows at her question, wondering why it concerns her when it shouldn’t. Why would the most powerful empath concern herself something ridiculous? “Everyone wants us to be. Father, her father,” he finally told her when silence fell over them and he walked back over to the railing of the balcony to lean against it. “Told us that it would be good for the company and for our families if we’re together…” he stopped talking when Raven’s face became unreadable. “However, do not concern yourself in this ridiculous matter because I have no interest in her.”

 Raven felt her beat of her heart slow down at his answer and nodded at him. She gave him a small smile. “I see. Thank you for telling me, Damian. I should go back inside now.” She started making her way back to the gala that was inside the manor but paused when Damian spoke again.

 “I am interested in someone else, Raven.”

 Raven turn her head slightly to look at him. She watched him leaned causally against the railing of the balcony with a balled fist at his side. His emerald eyes wasn’t looking at her when he had told this. Instead, his eyes were focused on the ground in front of him. “Oh?” she said, lifting her brow with interest. “Is it someone that I know?”

 Damian didn’t answer her as he leaned off the railing. His face was blank as he walked closer to her and Raven held her breath when he leaned in close to her and could feel his warm breath against her ear as he spoke into it lowly. “One day you will find out Raven.”

 Raven released her breath that she was holding when Damian disappeared inside the manor, leaving her to her thoughts as she processed the whole conversation. She was relieved to hear that he didn’t have a crush on Bethany Rosewater, and she knew that one day he will tell her who he was interested in.

 For some odd reason——she had a tiny suspicion of who it could be even though he technically didn’t reveal of who it was, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of it as she walked back inside with a smile on her face.

[thosewickedlovelies]

Into the Woods: chapter 2  |  Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

Summary: Instagram stalking ensues. Will you run into Frankie again?

Tags: no warnings AGAIN this is weird for me too but as mentioned I do have some smut planned for these two if anyone needs more incentive to read lmfao

Word Count: 2,783

A/N: As always, endless love to @yoditorian for this idea and her supervision of my writing about a social media platform I do not use 💗💚💗

Backstory / chap 1 /

---

Later that night, Frankie sits at his desk, poring over maps both digital and physical. Where could you live to have traveled to the same point in the forest as him within a day? He’s hiked along the edge of his side of the woods, and knows that unless he’s missed some major construction, you can’t be there. So now he studies the other side of the treeline, looking at the closeness of the towns, any tiny side roads that could lead to individual houses like his own. But his frustration is growing.

There aren’t any. Not any within feasible walking distance, at least. And you hadn’t been grubby enough to have been camping. Frankie frowns, tracing the small highway which cuts through the forest. There, not far from the turnoff to his home, was a parking lot at the start of a web of trails through the woodland. If you started there and completely ignored the predetermined paths, heading a course straight for the pond...

“Huh,” Frankie murmurs. It wasn’t much further of a hike than his own. So that means you don’t live within walking distance- he shakes off an odd twinge of disappointment at that- but he does have an idea of your hiking range, if he felt like trying to seek you out.

He shakes his head. Don’t be weird. That was something Santiago might do- deliberately roam where he knew you regularly went in order to find you again. Frankie isn’t nearly so forward. His style is slower, less aggressive. What he’s already planning is his next cooking trip to the pond. Plants need water, and you forage for plants- he figures it’s a likely spot to run into you a second time.

Frankie hadn’t spoken to you again after you’d parted today. Only caught glimpses of you through the trees, from where he had dutifully remained by his fire. But at some point between the twisting of the campfire smoke from one way to another you had vanished, and not long after, Oso had returned to him, flopping down on her side with a satisfied huff.

He snorted. “Well, I’m glad you got to make a new friend.” Frankie rubbed her belly with only a little jealousy.

Now, feeling restless, he decides to upload the pictures he took today. He’s almost immediately distracted, however, by a string of likes from a new follower- concluding with a familiar photo of Oso and Gloriana. A prickle of excitement runs through him at a reference to foraging in the username. No way.

Frankie leans forward in his seat, straining for a closer look at the profile picture. A grin spreads across his face when the page finally loads.

It’s you. You, mid-laugh, perched comfortably up on a sturdy tree branch. He quickly scrolls down to confirm; but this is definitely you. Lots of photos of plants, and woodland that looks remarkably familiar. Your bare feet in a stream. A busy street at afarmer’s market, you smiling with a stall owner.

Frankie laughs out loud at the sheer absurdity of it. Here he was, worried about coming off as a mega-creep, and you’ve already shamelessly checked him out on instagram. He’s never hit ‘Follow Back’ so fast in his life.

--

You try to quash the squirmy anticipation in your belly as you pull on your pack, organizing yourself for the walk ahead. There’s no reason to get excited, you scold yourself. Even if you do see Frankie again, you still don’t really know anything about him.

You’d tried to stalk him online, but there wasn’t much information to go off of from his instagram photos. The pictures themselves spoke volumes, though. You’d always thought you could tell a little something of people’s personalities from what they posted, especially from pictures with their friends. Frankie’s main group of friends had a certain look about them- military maybe, a sort of cocky surety in their posturing. Despite this, they’re often grinning in candid moments, a relaxed, unself-conscious affection between the men which endeared them to you. Them, and Frankie. It’s a shame he doesn’t post more photos of himself. You recall again the sight of him in the woods, shafts of sunlight striking his expressive features, illuminating his kind smile and earthen eyes.

Then you shake your head. Too much time alone with your ever-churning thoughts have you romanticizing your meeting, when in reality you have no reason to expect to run into him again. He’d said he was out there all the time, but you’d never spotted evidence of any fires, or of a giant dog gallivanting around the place. Maybe he didn’t mean the pond specifically, but the forest in general.

“Argh!” Looking around, you stomp your foot in frustration. In your distraction, your walking pace had slowed, and you weren’t as far along in your hike as you should have been. Resolving to focus on your surroundings (because you won’t see Frankie again if you don’t get to the pond in good time), you splash some water on your face to refresh yourself and stride onward.

As you get closer to your pond, you slow down again, this time deliberately. All your senses strain for any sign of Frankie, but you don’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary. Then you smell it.

Smoke.

For a moment you panic. Is it wildfire season? Can you run away from a forest fire? Who do you call for this??

Then you smell something else- something familiar and edible- and you nearly pop yourself in the forehead. Of course you smell smoke, you idiot. What did Frankie say he did out here?? Cooked. You were literally just thinking about his instagram.

What is that smell? You have got to see this.

You step carefully to avoid making too much noise in the brush. Now that you’re looking for it, the gray haze of campfire smoke is obvious as it drifts through the trees. You give its source a wide berth, hoping for a chance to observe Frankie without him knowing.

Your wish is granted. You’ve come at him from the side, and now have an excellent view of his profile, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he stirs something in the heavy-looking pan in front of him. After a minute he looks satisfied, and retrieves the pan’s lid from behind him, arcing his arm carefully over the flames as he places it. Frankie sits back, a gusty sigh blowing from his lips.  As you watch, he tosses his cap to the side, running his hands through loose curls and scratching his fingers across his scalp. You bite your lip in a smile at the sight of his moment of self-indulgence.

You scan Frankie’s setup and the area around him, searching for-

“Ruff!” The dog you were looking for crashes through the bushes beside you, and you yelp in surprise, automatically stooping to soothe her.

Dammit, how does such a large animal keep sneaking up on you?

“Oso?” Frankie calls. He’s standing now, still hatless, a few steps closer to you than where he’d been sitting. He glances uncertainly between the fire and your approximate location. You hear him try your name next.

You swear quietly. “No, not you,” you add to Oso.

“It’s me,” you reply, straightening. “Sorry, Oso got me again.”

The pleased, upward tilt of his lips reverses as he shakes a stern finger at his dog, whose ears perk happily at all the attention. “What did I tell you? No more accosting strangers!” he scolds, though he doesn’t sound the least bit upset.

With a expectant glance at you, Oso trots back over to him. Frankie ruffles her ears, definitively undermining any negative impact his words might have had. You regard each other tentatively.

“Hi,” you say lamely.

His face crinkles back up into a smile. “Hi,” he returns. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Every possible conversation you’d mentally practiced since your first meeting flew right out of your head. “Well, you know.” You shrug lightly. “A person’s gotta eat.” Inwardly you cringe.

But Frankie is unphased. “I’d be really interested to hear about the kinds of stuff you find out here. This is almost ready, if you don’t feel like foraging for your lunch today.” He gestures behind him to the pan on the fire.

You hesitate, and Frankie seems to sense your uncertainty. “Only if you want.” He holds his hands up in a universal ‘no pressure’ sign, even going so far as to take a step back in emphasis.

You tell yourself to stop being so paranoid. This is what you wanted, after all. All your curiosity comes surging back as the wind shifts and the smell of his cooking sets your stomach growling. “Okay,” you agree. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Great!” Frankie beams. He turns- and promptly trips over Oso, still sitting beside him.

“Fuck!” He curses, hands hitting the ground on the other side of his dog.

You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter. Is he always this prone to falling over? “Are you okay?” You make your way over to them.

“Yeah.” Now upright, Frankie seems flustered to find you so much nearer than before, his gaze flitting over you before he remembers himself. He turns to crouch by the fire again, snatching up his hat and re-securing it on his head.

You seat yourself a short distance away and observe. Oso has reclined on her belly on Frankie’s other side, her eager gaze fixed on the pan as he prods the food. Apparently deeming it finished, he retrieves three paper bowls from his bag and fills one each for you, himself, and Oso. With a small flourish and a nervous smile, he presents yours to you.

“Thank you.” You feel like maybe you should say something else, but he’s already moved to face Oso, murmuring something to her while he gives her her bowl. You decide to let the food do the talking.

And are glad you did when fresh, vibrant flavors flood your tongue. Your eyes flutter wide with surprise. “Wow, this is...incredible. How did you..?” You look between the steaming pan and his rucksack, unable to reconcile the feast of flavors in your bowl with how much you’d have to carry out here to achieve it.

The man blushes at your praise, gaze lowering briefly to hide his pleasure, but he looks back up at your question. “Trade secrets,” Frankie says solemnly. Then he drops the expression with a little laugh, his confidence clearly bolstered by your amazement.

“Just kidding, I’ll tell you. If-” he points his plastic spoon at you “-you tell me how we haven’t crossed paths before.”

That’s a fair deal, especially if it means you get to learn more about him. “I’ll do my best,” you promise. In between bites, you outline your gradual exploration of your surroundings upon moving into a nearby village a little over two years ago. This year, you decided to strike out into new territory- this forest.

“I found this pond pretty quickly and saw the blackberry bushes right at the end of the season last year. I’ve been coming here ever since, keeping an eye on it I guess. But this whole wood is really a gold mine.”

Frankie looks fascinated. “I had no idea. I know some plants, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what all is out here.” His mouth opens to ask more questions, but it’s your turn now.

“What about you?” you quiz. “How have I not seen you before if you’re out here ‘all the time’?”

“Well, I’ve been working my way over from the other side of the hill.” Frankie explains, gesturing to the gentle ascending slope behind him. “I only found this place earlier this year. Didn’t know it was someone else’s territory.” He offers an apologetic grin, and you duck your head, feeling a silly, pleased warmth in your cheeks.

“Anyway, I moved into my place over there about five years ago? But I had a lot to do at first. I made a ton of improvements to the house, I was starting a garden. The hiking was kind of a refuge from that at first, a way to quiet my thoughts when I was stressing myself out.” He admits this last part without looking at you, as if his stress is somehow something to be ashamed of.

“But then I realized that I actually enjoyed it, and it made me feel safer to know the woods in so much detail. So I made it a hobby. Started taking longer walks, mapping where I’d been. Brought whole meals instead of little snacks,” he adds wryly.

You laugh as his humor registers, completely engrossed in Frankie’s tale. He seems to notice this suddenly, and shuffles a little under your attention. “So that’s me,” he concludes, clearing his throat self-consciously.

Any foraging you intended to do today has long been forgotten. You’ve been sitting with your backpack on long enough that your shoulders have begun to ache, and you sling it off impatiently. Frankie seems to further relax himself at the sight of you settling in, leaning back on his hands, his empty bowl given to Oso to lick clean.

There’s one question that hasn’t been answered. “...so how did you end up on instagram?” you probe.

He laughs outright. “I wondered how long it would take you to ask,” Frankie teases. His lopsided grin suggests he knows the impression he gives off. His mirth is infectious, and you find yourself grinning back at him, although you refuse to be embarrassed. He was the one who had thrown his phone at you, after all. And he had stalked your profile right back.

“Well, I’m no photographer,” he begins. “But I like the act of taking pictures. Really stopping and looking at what’s around you, what captures your attention. I was in the army before this, and it was just in-and-out of so many places, not actually experiencing anywhere for real…” Frankie watches you from the corner of his eye, speaking slowly, as if reluctant to say something which might change your opinion of him.

“My friend’s wife- the one whose kid I’m godfather to- suggested I use instagram as a way to organize my photos, but also ‘so they know I’m still alive out here.’” He chuckles. “I kinda like it now- it’s like a public diary. Mostly it was a relief to find that I’m not the only weirdo out there who likes cooking in the woods.”

You breathe a laugh reflexively, but your mind is turning over his words. I keep an instagram, he’d said before. Like a diary. Well, that’s...really cute, actually.

“Well, that makes me feel really shallow,” you joke, unable to think of any deeper response to his unexpectedly meaningful answer.

“Nah.” Frankie dismisses your quip with an easy smile. He asks you about yourself, then. How you got into foraging, other questions inspired by the pictures he’d seen on your page.

For awhile you converse with the uncomplicated lightness of two strangers who know absolutely nothing about each other, but want to. As a dessert offering, you take out the tub of blackberries you’d gathered earlier. Frankie’s eyes widen at their size, fatter than any berry he’d see in the supermarkets.

His freely shared emotions- fascination, curiosity, delight- continue to confirm your impression of him. Safe. His mouth works as he savors the sweet fruit, lips puckering, head nodding in close-eyed approval.

You will yourself not to stare. Looking elsewhere, you glance up at the sky- and the angle of the sun sends you leaping to your feet. “Shit-”

Frankie startles. “What’s wrong?” He tenses, but remains seated. Oso jerks to wakefulness where she’d been dozing by his side.

“I’ve got to start back if I don’t want to be out here at night.” Hurriedly you check your phone to be sure of the time, your heart rate slowing upon seeing it’s not as late as you thought.

Frankie stands now to hand you back your container, still mostly full of berries. You pause. “Keep it,” you tell him. “Make yourself a campfire dessert.”

His lips part in surprise, but you step back before he can protest. “Or at least take them as a thank you. For the food...and the company.”

He purses his lips. “All right. I’ll save making dessert for next time, though.” He subtly searches for your reaction to his implied invitation.

Anticipation lightens your limbs, but you keep your feet firmly planted on the earth. “Next time.” You’re not sure you manage to smother the excitement in your smile.

---

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb, @computeringturtle, @tobealostwanderer

[honeylikewords]

jack daniels ship questions!

(Remember that ship questions prompt list I posted a while back? Here are all of those prompts, filled out for Jack and his wife! Hope you guys enjoy! Content Warnings: Not much to speak of, but some mentions of conceptual peril, Jack’s latent PSTD-linked behaviors, pregnancy. Word count is 6.8k. )

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

There are plenty of good options for this, but I prefer to imagine that Jack and his future wife met at work; the New York Statesman office is a functioning business, after all, and would therefore hold many people in its employ. Though Jack may be deployed to the field every now and then, he’s actually used surprisingly sparingly, and spends a great deal of his time actually working at the New York headquarters at a very real job as a chairman of the board for the company. His future wife worked on the same floor of the building in marketing, and the two of them crossed paths often, both in corporate meetings and just out and about in the halls of the building. 

What was their first impression of each other?

Jack immediately was drawn to her after hearing her speak up during a meeting; she’d been sent in as one of the marketing presenters and had a wonderful breadth of ideas for the company, and he was charmed by her warm presence, intelligent voice, and sweet manner. His first impression was deeply positive, and he spent the rest of the meeting eyeing her curiously, his tanned cheeks flushed with pleasure at being able to watch her shift her files around and toy with her hair as she listened to other speakers and nodded along: she was very, very pretty in exactly his kind of way, and he liked that very, very much.

Her first impression of him was, contrastingly, rather fearful; she knew him only as “Mister Daniels”, and had only heard of him through memos and word of mouth around the office. When she was called in to speak to some of the board members, she was petrified with anxiety at the idea of slipping up in front of such important people and, in fact, barely noticed Jack the first time they shared a boardroom: she was so nervous about getting everything right and speaking clearly and conveying the correct information that he sort of blurred with all the other execs and suits. That said, she did notice him watching her throughout the meeting, and any time their eyes met (and he often smiled at her when they did), she became acutely aware of just how handsome he was; his features striking, his mannerisms coolly lackadaisical, his posture wide and relaxed, his deep brown eyes smoldering under a firm brow as he flashed her a sharp smile. No wonder his name flew around the office so much.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Nobody really knew, frankly: Jack has no family to speak of, and not that many friends, either. For someone so charming and socially adept, Jack is surprisingly something of a loner, and tells very few people anything about himself, much less about his feelings or attachments. Literally nobody knew that he was developing feelings for her, much less was intent on pursuing those feelings and manifesting them into a relationship, and he liked the privacy of that.

Likewise, she didn’t mention her growing infatuation with him to anyone, particularly because it would be so embarrassing: if word got out around the office that she was making eyes at a higher-up, it’d seem deeply unprofessional. Besides, she wasn’t really close friends with anyone at the office and they didn’t need to know, especially when she believed that her feelings couldn’t possibly be returned. 

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Jack. He may not seem like the type, but when he falls in love, it hits him like a train: hard, fast, and unforgiving. It knocked him off his feet and flat onto his ass, and he didn’t mind a bit. The only hard part was keeping it a secret from her for so long!

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Big time. Jack felt it would be inappropriate to make a pass at her at all-- his gentlemanly nature insisted he was only to subtly imply his feelings for her, but otherwise treat her with ladylike gentleness and cordiality-- especially when he did hold some sway in the office, and that could be misinterpreted as, well, something unsavory. He tried hard to push the feelings down, to make them quieter and less intrusive, but he couldn’t help growing more and more attached to her, particularly when they ended up spending more and more time together as coworkers. Every new side of her that he saw made him fall more hopelessly off the steep cliff’s edge of adoration, and he barely had the willpower to hold on to propriety. Still, he did his damnedest! 

Similarly, she resisted a great deal; how embarrassing would it be for her to try and flirt with a man so far out of her league, and so far up the ladder from her rung? It’d kill her, socially and in terms of her career, to make a faux pas like that, so she kept the feelings bottled up deep, deep inside herself. Still, whenever he smiled at her or went out of his way to be so intoxicatingly gentlemanly towards her, she found herself swooning; sure, maybe he treats all the girls like this. Maybe he’s just a well-raised man. But she still couldn’t resist the inkling that, maybe, just maybe, he was particularly fond of her; even if it was just a girlish fantasy, it made her heart race to imagine him harboring some secret affection for her, and, as she would later find out, that fantasy ended up being more than a little factual.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Jack is a sucker for the idea of soulmates. He fully believes in commitments of the heart, body and soul, and would be utterly unsurprised to know that the woman he’d given his heart to so wholly was his soulmate. He may talk a lot of big game and posture all the live-long day about pleasing women and seeing “the whole doughnut”, but that’s just pretense: Jack’s a one-woman man, and he’s happy to pledge himself as her soulmate. More than happy.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Jack, presumably, would have continued his work without ever knowing there was something missing, but would be distinctly less engaged in the office, sharply unhappy, and would have been more inclined towards keeping himself busy with field work. He would have closed off even further from attachments and affection and continued in his hollowed state, scraped clean of any remnants of the possibility for love, and would have, likely, kept running missions until his luck ran out. A dark ending to a cold story.

Her life would be entirely up to her, ready for any path she might be inclined to follow, though she would never know the joy of being treated with such respect and love as Jack treats her with, and she would never meet a man so gentlemanly, so adoring, nor so intensely loyal. Perhaps she would meet someone else she could love just as much as she would have loved Jack, but her life would be a painting lacking  the warm hues of Jack’s mirth, love, and tenderness.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

I have a whole fic about that! But, in short, Jack did! I like to think of Jack waiting for ages and ages to find the “right” moment to tell her he had feelings for her and ask her out, and though he was petrified of making a mistake and losing her forever (and coming off like a creep), he managed to show her the sincerity of his attachment, and be granted the greatest gift of all: returned affections. She wanted to go out with him as much as he wanted to go out with her, and, from there, they melded together and the relationship progressed!

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

In that aforementioned fic, I suggest that their first date was sitting together on a long flight and watching movies together during a corporate excursion, and I like to stand by that! But if you mean first “date where they went somewhere”, after that flight, the two of them rented a car at the airport, went for breakfast at a local diner, and then took in the sights of the town before capping off the night with dinner and a movie. They ended up spending the whole day together, talking about everything and nothing, shy but ecstatic to be finally able to be open with their attraction to the other, and adored every moment of the date. It was a little awkward, at first, but they quickly matched one another’s patterns, especially towards the end of the night, cuddled up together at the theatre, resting their heads on each other and holding hands, exchanging little kisses on the hand back and forth.

It was like magic.

What was their first kiss like?

Nervous! Jack, normally so confident and slick, found himself trembling as he leaned in closer to her, hovering his lips over hers and feeling the quakes and tremors careening through every muscle of his body: all he wanted was to grab her by the face and kiss her as hard as he could and never let go, but he knew that would hardly be appropriate, so he just inched in, millimeter by millimeter, until she pressed up and closed the gap herself, sending him spiralling with fireworks behind his eyes and pure jolts of adrenaline coursing through his heart. 

He ended up accidentally deepening the kiss by leaning in and groaning through his nose-- he’d held back for so long that his body wanted to take everything it could get before it lost its chance-- and felt her hands rise to cup the back of his head, locking him into her, which made his legs turn into jelly and his eyes roll back in their sockets in delight.

Suffice to say, they were out of breath when they parted, and not just from holding their breaths during the kiss.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Well, she wasn’t Jack’s first kiss, nor his first girlfriend, but she is definitely Jack’s first and only love of his life. And his first and only wife! As for the other way ‘round, Jack is his wife’s first long-term boyfriend, then her first and only husband, and, of course, the one and only (and thus first) true love. Ain’t that sweet?

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Jack comes in at 5’11’’, 6’1’’ in certain sets of cowboy boots, and often likes that his wife is just short enough for him to comfortably rest his chin on top of her head during hugs. As for their age difference, Jack wouldn’t be at ease with anything more than a ten year age gap, and even that’s pushing it, so his wife is somewhere in that range. While age may be “just a number” to some, development isn’t, so he isn’t looking for a woman who isn’t at the same point in life he is. He wants to always be in sync with his missus, so being close in age and close in life plans is important to him.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Jack has no real family; his parents both passed on a while back and he was an only child. He’s charming and affable with his wife’s family, but gets surprisingly nervous at family events and prefers to keep to himself: frankly, he’d rather spend all their holidays alone at home with the missus than be around her parents or siblings. 

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Jack. His savoir-faire attitude, pleasing manners and general suave presence makes him a natural fit for taking the lead in just about every situation, but especially when out and about; his wife leans more on the quiet side, and he’s fine doing the talking towards others for the both of them. He’s fine ordering for her at restaurants, fine handling chit chat with drivers or dinner guests, fine charming businessmen or clients. He’s happy to be her voice when she doesn’t feel like talking, and happy to be the conversational springboard for her when she wants to make a foray into it. 

Who gets jealous easier?

Jack has a shockingly vicious mean streak in him, and he can border on being possessive, at times. Sometimes it’s sweet how much he cares and how protective he is over her, but jealousy is a wholly different beast; when Jack feels like someone is flirting with his wife or has caught her eye, something hardhearted and controlling in him claws its way to the surface in him, and he looks at the object of her imagined affections with nothing but pure, boiling hatred. 

For example, he can get more than a little insecure if he thinks she’s staring too closely at a particularly attractive actor during a movie-- does she think that man has a better body than him? Does she like that man because he’s younger? Prettier? Has a smaller nose and brighter eyes? Fewer wrinkles?-- and ends up hating the actor in every subsequent movie, even going so far as to refuse to watch films with that person in them. 

He also can be more than a little rude to other men in public, but in a backhanded, “disguised” way, his cruelties and biting remarks hidden under a balmy layer of “Southern kindness”. Once, at a coffee shop, a barista gave his wife an extra baked good for being “the cutest customer he’d seen all day”, and Jack grabbed the pastry, smiled toothily at the man, and remarked that the barista had “good taste, though you wouldn’t guess it”, pointedly looked the man up and down as if judging his apparel, then took his wife’s hand and left the shop in a cloud of bitterness.

She’d really let Jack have it after that one.

Inversely, Jack’s wife can be more than a little guilty of jealousy, herself; after all, she knows her husband is a very, very attractive man, and that more than a few women find him alluring-- she’s heard how other women talk about him at the office-- and upon finding out that some of his field work can involve seducing women for information, she was in a near-constant jealousy tizzy for weeks. He’d had to promise her that he wouldn’t ever allow the seduction to be more than flirting, and even sworn to her that he would turn down operations where such a means of extraction was baked into the plan, but the feeling lingers, burning sour in her stomach whenever she knows he’s deployed. Is he out there, somewhere, flirting with some floozy, whispering things in that woman’s ear that he once whispered in hers?

It takes Jack eons to assure her that all his affection for her is earnest and passionate and that he never once used “the moves” on her that he might use for a mission, but every now and then, she still gets frustrated at the idea of him being coy with other women and he’ll have to take her aside and show her just how special their love is to him.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Mister Daniels. What he whispers is a secret between himself and the missus, but rest assured knowing that he likes to spare her no detail when elaborating on what exactly it is he’s thinking about when it comes to her.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

Jack wanted to say it first so, so bad: he had a whole moment planned out, where they’d be on a night drive, parked in his truck, watching the stars, and he’d have beautiful music in the background as they lay in the flatbed, and he’d turn to her and say those three words, sweeping her off her feet, but… she beat him to it.

She’d come down with a horrible cold, one that left her practically bedridden, and he’d come over in a panic, carrying bags of medicine and ointments and cool patches and Gatorades and soup from the best deli in town, and he’d spent the entire rest of the evening taking care of her. After propping her up on her pillows, putting on a calming movie, throwing out all her used tissues, getting her changed into clean, comfy pajamas, and feeding her warm soup and cool drinks, she was drifting off to sleep. Jack was getting ready to spend the night sleeping on the couch, and just before he left, she tugged him by the hand, looking up at him with cold medicine-calmed eyes. Dreamily, she stroked his cheek and hummed a soft “thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her knuckles. “Get some sleep, alright, Princess?”

“Mmm,” she cooed. “Goodnight, bunnykins. I love you.”

And with that, her medicine kicked in, and she dozed off, leaving Jack floating on air, hovering by her bed, staring with utter adoration at this sleeping angel who… loved him. 

Loved him.

He barely slept that night, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to fight off the silly, creeping smiles of a boy in love.

What are their primary love languages?

For Jack, he feels the most loved when he receives physical affection and is able to spend quality time with his wife. He has a deep attachment to her and feels that it’s best expressed when they’re able to touch each other; he adores being hugged by her, feeling her kiss his whole face, the way her hands playfully squeeze his butt when he wears those jeans she loves, the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tracing down his jawline and throat. Any time she’s touching him, he feels his life is complete and full, and when they’re apart, he feels fuzzy around the edges, as if only she can bring the whole picture into focus for him.

Add to that the enjoyment of quality time: Jack loves being able to spend days on end in only her company, doing anything she wants, talking back and forth and just absorbing the pleasure of being in her presence. He especially enjoys working on something together, like learning to dance together or building something (he, somehow, fell even more in love with her as they built a bookshelf together for their new, shared apartment), and, of course, traveling with her for trips and vacations. Once, they were snowed in together during a stay in Oregon, and he spent the whole three days of the snow-in just following her around the cabin like a lovesick puppy. They ended up sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, her perched on his lap, he with his arms fettered around her tummy, watching YouTube videos on resin pouring for, like, ten hours. He loved it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

“Well, excuse me, miss, but there seems to be something wrong with my phone--”

“Jack, no, don’t--”

“Because I seem not to have your number in it!”

“Oh my god.”

“Did I wander on in to the Louvre? Because my, oh my, I am staring at a true work of art, little lady.”

“Jack, please--”

“Lemme go get my glasses on, beautiful; you’re too fine for me to see without ‘em.”

“I’m going to lock you out of the bedroom if you keep this up--”

“Now, sugar, come on, can you blame me? I’m in such terrible pain!”

“Mhm.”

“Because it sure hurt when I fell for you!”

“OH MY GOD.”

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Every single day that Jack’s home, they’re cuddling in bed at the end of the day. He can’t sleep unless he’s got her in his arms, and he just can’t help but be a little handsy; he’s a lover of touch, after all! As for PDA, Jack tries to keep public affection “tasteful”, but also lets a little of his possessive nature pull through, at times: he likes to “mark” what’s his, and she’s his, all the way, so he likes to walk with his hand on the small of her back, sometimes cheekily stuck in the back pocket of her pants to get a feel of the nice curves back there, or periodically lean down to kiss her cheek and see if she’s interested in a more full-on kiss. At the office, they keep it limited to the occasional kiss on the cheek when there’s fewer people around, though that’s not to say Jack hasn’t teased the idea of going for something more intimate at work, before.

Who initiates kisses?

Both of them! They’re a very affectionate couple, but out of the two of them, Jack can be the most forward when it comes to making his intent to be kissed known. He has no shame about taking her chin in his hand and leaning in for a nice, deep kiss, or in pulling her by the waist away from whatever she was working, planting a wet one on her. Jack loves to feel her smile against his lips, and he’ll take just about any opportunity he can to snag a kiss from her. On her end, she loves to walk past him and press little kisses on his temples, cheeks, or the top of his head (provided he’s sitting down!), and will often try to walk off and continue what she was doing, only for Jack to grab her by the hips and tug her back for an even bigger kiss. He claims she “tempted him” into doing it; after all, a little kiss like that is more of an appetizer for the greater meal, is it not?

Who’s the big and little spoon?

They sometimes alternate, but more often than not like to go back to their favorite position, with Jack (and all his long limbs) as the big spoon, curled around his wife, resting his chin on his plumpness, pressed up against her. That said, he also adores feeling her softness surround him as she holds him from behind, all warm and cuddly. It makes him feel loved and cared for, and he melts for it.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Both of them enjoy exploring the town together: walking around the city, trying new restaurants, strolling in the park, window shopping, going to museums, anything! They like to walk and talk, discuss what they’re seeing, things going on in their lives, or what they’re hoping to do, next. They love trying new foods together, especially when it’s something unusual to them or something they’ve never heard of before. They also love to go to the movies together, and take great pleasure in reviewing films together or just canoodling in the theatre seats. Hell, sometimes Jack doesn’t even watch the movie: he spends all 90-some minutes with his face pressed into her neck, giving her hickies and letting his hands wander.

They also like to snuggle up at home and watch television, with Jack’s indulgences being cooking competition shows and dancing shows. He also has a secret indulgence: RuPaul’s Drag Race. He knows it’s trashy, he knows it’s staged, and he knows it can be, well, problematic at times, but damn, if he doesn’t get a kick out of how some of those queens fight! His wife will watch with him, even if it’s not her style, just because it’s cute to watch him gasp when one queen throws a drink at another or hear him complain that a queen is underdressed for the challenge. Watching Jack is ten times better than any entertainment the show itself could provide her!

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Both of them are actually pretty emotionally intuitive people, and Jack is deeply sentimental and emotionally intelligent, so it naturally follows that he can comfort her and show her all the examples of his love and protection when she feels low and fragile. Inversely, his wife knows him, and all his broken pieces, and is able to wrap her arms around him and tell him just what he needs to hear: the truth. That she loves him, that she’ll never give up on him, that she’s always by his side, and that they’ll weather any storm together. That he isn’t irreparable, unlovable, alone.

They both take great comfort in one another, and many couples envy their emotional honesty and how much they genuinely do care for and protect each other.

Who’s more protective?

Jack; he’s constantly anxious that something horrible is going to happen to his wife. He’s seen some pretty grisly business in his line of work, and participated in more than his fair share of that kind of business, and the ghosts of those deeds float around in his head and haunt his visions, making him fearful that something dreadful will befall her, as he’s seen befall so many others before her. He gets antsy and tends to hover around her, though he pretends he doesn’t. He also feels an obligation to protect her, as the “man of the house” and her husband; he’s old-fashioned and believes it’s his job to provide for and defend her, and while the sentiment is sweet, he can be a little overbearing at times, trying to coax her into letting him handle everything for her sometimes teetering on the edge of condescension. 

She knows he’s only trying to be her gentleman, her knight in shining armor, her cowboy, but she has to assert that she’s a fully capable adult woman to him every now and then and show him that while she loves and appreciates his dedication to her safety, she’s going to be just fine, and they can work together on things, not leaving it all up to him to take care of. He’s still learning, and he can sometimes regress into old habits, but he’s made wonderful progress!

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

It’s an interesting mix of both! Jack loves to dole out praises and pet names and playful little flirts with his wife, but he’s also not afraid to get handsy with her to express his affection for her. He prefers to use both at the same time; holding her hips in his hands, swaying from side to side, murmuring teasing tones and warm whispers to her about how beautiful she is, how sweet and kind and lovely, and how she’s all his. And for as physical a man as he is, Jack feels truly loved when his wife tells him honest and earnest things she loves about him, or when she tells him he did a good job at something, and he can tell she’s sincere. It reminds him that he’s not just a body for her to love, but a soul, a person that she admires and takes comfort in. And that’s the most loving thing of all!

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

They both really love Dolly Parton, so “Islands In The Stream” comes on fairly often as one of their “dance around the living room and sing to each other” songs, as does “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That” by Dolly! He also loves Johnny Cash, so “I’ll Remember You” is one of their favorites. Elvis’s “Love Me Tender” is one saved for special, quiet moments; it was played at their wedding, and holds a special spot in their hearts as a song to hold each other to, or murmur the lyrics to one another to show them how much they are adored. 

Similarly, they also have “When I Fall In Love” by Nat King Cole as one of their special songs: after all, they had both promised that “When I give my heart it will be completely, or I'll never give my heart,” in their own ways, so dedicated to true and loyal love, and then they found one another, and their hearts were given in totality.

There are more, but these are just a few (particularly romantic) ones!

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Jack calls his wife “Darlin’,” obviously, but also loves to use terms like “Honeycomb,” “Miss,” “Sugar,” “Little Lady,” “Babydoll,” “Princess”: heck, what doesn’t he call her? He loves using pet names for her!

She calls him “Mister Daniels,” “Cowboy,” “Baby,” and “My Big Man”, among other things.

Who remembers the little things?

Both of them! Each of them loves to keep track of special, unique things about their partner; she remembers that Jack hates acrid coffee and likes his with two sugars and two creams, or that he always puts his socks on left to right, or that he won’t leave the house until his tie is the perfect length, or that he always checks his mustache in every reflective surface he passes. He remembers that she brushes her teeth anytime she eats something that leaves the “fuzzy sweater feeling” and that she loves when he gently fingers combs her hair so much that her eyes close and she makes the same little pleased hum every time or that she only can sleep if there’s at least some cool air so she can bundle up and get snuggly.

The little things are what let you know you’re in love, you know?

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Jack, ever the picture of the classic gentleman, absolutely takes the initiative on proposing. He makes a whole big-to do about it, planning everything down to the exact detail and sparing no expense in trying to procure the perfect moment for him to pop that perpetual question. He actually quite enjoys the planning and that enjoyment does carry over to when they’re planning the wedding itself! 

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding itself, despite Jack’s indulgences, was actually rather small: Jack doesn’t have that many people in his life he’d want to invite, so his side of the affair was rather empty, and so, in keeping, his wife decided to limit the event to just very close friends and immediate family. Both were very happy about that, being rather private people, and enjoyed being able to have an intimate wedding with a greater attention to atmosphere and personal touches than would be afforded for a much bigger wedding.

Jack had a few firm policies about the “tone” of the affair: he didn’t want a bunch of loud music, he didn’t want people getting drunk, and he wanted it to be fun but not “trashy”, a loose term he threw around at anything he didn’t really like or considered “gauche” when shopping around for wedding ideas. He also wanted to have at least part of the event take place outdoors, so the wedding ceremony was held indoors while the reception was outside, under the stars on an autumn night. 

He hired a full, live band to play the affair, and had a fair amount of fun dancing with his wife all through the night, from the traditional slow dance to up-tempo square dancing to just uncoordinated wiggling as they laughed their way into their brand-new marriage. Jack loves to dance, and having her in his arms, swaying to whatever beat life threw at them, made his heart soar.

I could go into more detail about themes and color palettes and the ceremony itself, but that’s for another day!

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Jack wants tons of kids. He wants as many kids as nature sees fit to give them, and has absolutely no shame in expressing that desire to his wife. Thankfully, she’s on the same page: while she may not want to be pregnant every bout of nine months or so, she also wants kids and is happy to raise as many as come along over the course of her and Jack’s lifetimes; a big family does not daunt either of them. As such, their marriage became a very fruitful one as time went on, and they soon welcomed their first child, a baby girl.

Jack was absolutely, unbelievably smitten with the little creature the moment he found out his wife was pregnant, and became even more resolutely devoted to her when she was placed, wriggling and crying and all red and small, in his arms, mere moments after her birth. He’d stared at her, half-sobbing, half-laughing, as his wife gripped his hand, and both of them fell utterly, hopelessly in love with that tiny little girl as she took her first breaths.

The little family only continued to grow after that; a few years later, when their little lady had grown into a chubby, grinning toddler, she met her baby brother, a squirmy bundle of miniature limbs and his Daddy’s dark curls, who Jack swore was born knowing how to smile, giggling as soon as he felt his Daddy take him into a hug. Three years after that, another tiny Daniels came into the world, a bright-eyed and curious baby boy who seemed to only snuffle, not cry, when he was placed in his Mama’s arms that very first day, peering around with a wondering gaze that made Jack’s heart break with utmost adoration.

(There may definitely come more little babies, but I think three is a good number to start with describing!)

They’re each amazingly different, and Jack loves them all as unique souls: his daughter, Lucinda (shortened to Lucy), is playful like her father, and loves to follow him around the house and ask him what he’s up to, sometimes running off with his hat just to win his attention away from desk work or some other ‘unimportant’ task. She adores her Mama, and hangs off her mother’s every word, copying her mannerisms and asks near-constantly to help with cooking or with playing with her brothers, who she loves to play “pranks” on (translation: she raspberries their tummies, then shoots off to another room, laughing hysterically).

Their first son, Joseph, is a rowdy little whirlwind, and learned to walk quickly just to keep up with his older sister, giving chase wherever she went. He loves to toddle around the house, squeaking and cheeping, showing his Mama and Daddy what he’s doing (often putting something in his mouth that he absolutely should not be putting in there). He loves being carried by Daddy and will crawl into Jack’s lap on the couch, sitting on his knees and making faces until Daddy laughs. He absolutely loves to make people laugh, and will play games like peek-a-boo for hours, gleefully shrieking and adoring when he hears his parents laugh at his silly noises.

The littlest one, Johnnie, is the quietest of the children, and enjoys cuddling up to his Mama and Daddy and taking naps on their chest. When not sleeping, he likes to sit and watch what others are doing, and seems the happiest when resting in his carrier on the table, watching his Mama hard at work on a project, and especially enjoys watching her partake in crafts like knitting, sewing, or cooking. Johnnie also enjoys watching animal programs on TV: he cries if they play anything loud and bright for him, and calms immediately when Animal Planet or National Geographic is on. He’s barely old enough to hold his head up, but will stretch in his bassinet to see his favorite animal, horses, on TV, or if Daddy is reading a book and doing horsie noises. He loves to wiggle his miniature arms around in circles, delighted by the pony sounds, and Jack can’t help but grin at how adorable his little man is.

Do they have any pets?

Yep! Though they save getting pets until the kids are older, the family gets a pair of dogs, both adoptees from a local shelter. The bigger dog is a mutt between a lab and German Shepherd named “Messy” by Lucy, and the smaller dog is a beagle-mix named “Buster”. They’re both deeply well-loved dogs, and though Jack may have pretended to not want dogs, he dotes on the two of them relentlessly.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Jack can be paranoid, at times, about anything bad befalling his kids, and he while he tends to be relaxed and fairly easy-going with the children, he can sometimes have bouts of militaristic tenseness and scold them for going somewhere without telling him, playing in the street, talking to strangers, et cetera. He gets so nervous that sometimes it bubbles up in controlling mannerisms, trying to keep his children as safe as possible, but going about it the wrong way. That said, he is a loving father, willing to apologize if he steps out of line, and he never yells at his children.

Who worries the most?

As mentioned before, Jack can teeter into paranoia that something will hurt his babies, but his wife gives him a run for his money, at times, especially because it can be harder for mothers to be separated from their little ones at first. The truth is, all loving parents worry about their kids, and always will, and both Jack and the Missus worry about their wee ones out in the big world.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Joseph keeps trying to eat them! But it’s usually Jack, if only by default as the taller partner with the long, willowy limbs that can actually reach the corner of the wall where the damn spider is hiding.

How do they celebrate holidays?

As best they can! Mostly, they like to keep it to just the family, and don’t do any huge parties, unless it’s a birthday, especially for one of the kids: Jack tends to indulge the kids, particularly on their birthdays, so while the parties aren’t massive, they often have lots of kids and their parents come over for a big playdate and run around the house, lots of cake and balloons and party hats and presents wrapped in puppydog paper. 

As for holidays like Christmas, Hanukkah, et cetera, they like to stay home and do all the decorating themselves, and often involve the kids in the decorating process. A cozy, safe at home feeling fills all their hearts and Jack loves seeing his family all gathered together, making little ornaments or snacks together, cuddled up watching movies or playing with toys, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Ol’ Missus Daniels has the greatest track record in the world of being able to coax her early morning-riser husband back into bed, back into her arms, and back to sleep. He can’t resist her sleepy eyes and beckoning smile, the way she opens her arms and pouts at him, the rusty creak of her tired little voice cooing “c’mere, you big lug, they can wait”. He has yet to convince himself to leave her side after a ploy like that.

Who’s the better cook?

Jack is flat out terrible. He’s great at a lot of things, but cooking is not one of them. He really is doing his best to improve his cooking, but he gets frustrated with how long it takes to make a good meal; he was so used to getting exactly what he wanted at fine dining restaurants and having things delivered to his apartment as a bachelor that he barely touched any of the dishes in his kitchen, and kept his fridge almost bare. Now that he’s a family man, he really does try-- he practices alongside his wife, watches the Food Network, stuff like that-- but he ends up burning things and getting pouty, and his wife will have to take over and show him how it’s done, which he appreciates. She was always the better cook out of the two of them, anyway.

Who likes to dance?

Very often, Jack’ll click on the radio and take his wife’s waist in his hands, giving it a loving squeeze as he twirls her around the kitchen, out through the living room, sometimes at the foot of their bed, his cheek pressed to hers, grinning from ear to ear. Sometimes, the babies will want to join in; Lucy will stand on her Daddy’s feet and hold his hands, swaying all around and screaming with delight, or Johnnie will be held to Mama’s chest and bop around with her to the tune of one of his favorite songs. Joseph, much like his father, likes to boogie on down and shimmy his diapered tush around, giggling as his Daddy applauds him. They all love to dance together!

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send in any requests for similar questions!

[babycracker]

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 6

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~2.7k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent a/n: as you can see, pairings have changed and i've added some warnings for the future bc this entire story has taken an unexpected turn and it's going to be much bigger than manner now. please don't hesitate to let me know if you wanna be taken off of the tags!

read it on ao3 here

--

Sadie was sure that she'd have more time than this. Six months isn't long, after all. Well, technically four months. She's been basically on the run for the last two.

She'd had four months to enjoy being twenty-one before the Agency had contacted her about signing the treaty, and for the two months since not so politely telling them to shove it she'd been dodging the bounty hunter that she'd evidently been assigned to.

He was an idiot. A troll, she was sure of it. Big and imposing and clumsy and menacing… but stupid. She hasn't seen him in a few weeks though, and she's starting to relax, fairly sure that she's lost him.

So, for the first time in the week and a half that she's been in this city she's daring to leave her room at the hostel and check out some of what could well be her new home. She pulls her hoodie on, reluctantly pulling the hood over her head and eyeing the bland grey of the fabric with disdain for a moment. Dreadfully boring, and dreadfully cliché - a banshee roaming around donning a grey hood - but she still needs to keep a low profile. Just for a little bit longer.

Everyone's heard about the supernatural bar in the city, such things are not exactly common, though no one seems to know where it is. It would seem the only way to find out is by word of mouth, and unfortunately she doesn't know anyone here, and she can't exactly go up to random people and ask them where the local supernaturals hang.

It would really be preferable; at just over 4'3 she doesn't exactly fit in with humans, but she supposes she'll just have to make do as she heads down the street. She sticks cautiously close to the buildings, avoiding the laughing groups of people and curiously looking around at the bright and colourful nightlife.

She could get used to this.

But for now, she resigns herself to something less flashy, a not quite as cheerful and slightly shabby bar with a bright green neon sign shining from its façade reading Shakers.

Looks good enough for now, so she steps inside, a grin spreading across her face as she takes in the atmosphere. God she's missed being around humans, and this place is packed with some of the rowdiest ones she's ever seen. Her favourite kind.

There's no dancing space as far as she can see (disappointing) but the bar is huge and there are booths lining every wall, the space in the middle filled with several pool tables.

She weaves her way through the crowd, thankfully remaining largely unnoticed, and slips up onto a stool at the bar, breathing out a sigh of relief now that her height is less obvious. She spins around on her seat, leaning one elbow on the bar and watching a group of guys at the closest pool table, trying (unsuccessfully) to gather some kind of hint at how to play the game, when a voice from behind distracts her.

"What are you drinking, pretty?"

She turns, expecting to find a bartender but instead there's a man on her side of the bar and uncomfortably close, a charming and yet slightly unsettling smile on his face. She forces one to her own to keep her frown away, the eerie sense of this guy being bad news creeping through her mind and making her thoughts slightly foggy.

“I’m really not much of a drinker, thanks anyway.”

He’s good looking enough, blonde hair, bright blue eyes and dimples in both cheeks on proud display as he grins at her. But her advanced senses are ringing every bell inside of her, warning her not to trust him.

“C’mon darl, no one comes to a bar unless they want a drink,” he presses, reaching out and letting his fingertips brush against the sliver of bare wrist peeking out from the sleeve of her hoodie.

She gasps and recoils too fast to be able to reign it in, her face twisting into a frown as she pulls her sleeves down and clutches them in her fists to cover her hands entirely. She really should've worn her gloves.

Demon.

He lifts both hands in front of him, a kind of peace offering, and takes a slight step back. “Woah, take it easy. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“It’s fine,” she clears her throat, hoping it’ll take the obvious rasp out of her voice as she struggles to get any words out at all. He grins and slides onto the stool next to her.

“If I promise not to touch you again, will you come and join us?”

She eyes him carefully for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and giving a small nod. He seems nice enough, respectful enough. And she’s never been given any kind of guarantee that her perception is always one hundred percent accurate. Maybe she gets it wrong sometimes. Maybe she’s been disregarding people her entire life based on what she sees of them on the inside, and some of them didn’t deserve disregarding.

She’s been on her own since she ran away from home after her parents’ relentless persistence that she signed the Agency’s treaty became too much, she could do with some friends. Maybe now she can’t afford to turn down every single person that gives her a slight dishonest vibe. Who is completely honest these days anyway?

He grins again and gets to his feet, nodding towards one of the pool tables as a gesture for her to follow him. “I’m Axle.”

“Sadie,” she replies, reluctantly slipping off her seat and noticing the way he immediately arches an eyebrow at her height. He’s a demon, a supernatural, he’s probably already worked out that she’s not human and she just about winces as she waits for the inevitable questions.

They don’t come, however. He’s either much more polite than she’d expected, naïve and just thinks that she’s short, or he’s already worked out what she is and is choosing to stay quiet about it in this public space.

She follows him over to the pool table where a group of five other men are standing around playing a game, and a brief wave of panic surges through her when she realises that they’re probably all demons. They usually hang out with their own kind, and it would mean that she’s heavily outnumbered by a group of supernaturals far more dangerous and powerful than she is.

They barely spare her a glance though as she comes to stand at Axle’s side, and he barely offers an introduction in turn, instead waving his arm around the group and simply referring to them as “the guys”.

It’s probably for the best. She can handle one demon, should the need arise, she can slink away from him unnoticed, but once she has the attention of an entire group of them she’s not exactly sure how she’d get away if she needed to.

--

For someone that doesn’t talk a whole lot, Morgan sure spends a lot of time on the phone. Tanner hadn’t expected her to be so… clingy. She seems to really miss the rest of Unit Bravo now that she’s stuck away from them, which seems strange to him given that he’d assumed she wasn’t so different from him and would enjoy the break and getting to do her own thing (apart from having to work with him, of course) for a while.

But she’s on the phone again. Granted, she’s talking to Adam about their mission, but still. The number of questions she’d had about what they were supposed to do had been alarming to Tanner until he’d realised that she was most likely just coming up with the need for so much clarification as an excuse to speak to someone from her team.

Whatever her reasons though, he’s bored. He gets bored quite often with her, he realises, and he finds himself watching her on the other side of the room from where he’s kicked back on the couch, obviously and shamelessly checking her out as she paces and speaks in a hushed voice into the phone. Maybe it’d be different if he worked with her a little more; in regard to both her flirtation and their current job. At first, it’d been fun to irk her and get on her nerves but it’s already starting to get old - even for him - and he decides that maybe he should make more of an effort to be agreeable if they’re going to be stuck together for now. Or he could at least sleep with her. That might relieve some of her tension and get her to stop being such a hardass, at least.

She runs a hand through her hair and turns to face him, scowling when she notices his attention and lifting her middle finger at him before turning away.

He grins and sits up straight when she finally ends the call and turns to face him again.

“They want us to go to that bar tonight,” she tells him before he has a chance to say anything, and he groans dramatically and slides down to a slouching position, throwing his head back against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

“It’s all work with you,” he complains, opening his eyes again when he hears her moving and watching her cross the room and start to pull her jacket on.

“We are on a job at the moment, so yeah, it’s all work.”

“You know this place isn’t gonna be like Mickey’s, right?”

She pulls a face, only small and only for the briefest second but he catches it anyway and for the first time sees how uncertain she is about having to be in that kind of environment.

“You gonna be good?” he adds, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic.

It actually surprises him how much he cares about how much this is going to affect her, and not just for the job. It’s going to be a pain in the ass, definitely. Having to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not overwhelmed while trying to do his job at the same time, but more than that, whenever he thinks about how painful this is going to be for Morgan his stomach twists slightly, churning uncomfortably and making him feel… he doesn’t even know. Worried? Is this what worry for somebody else is?

Probably not. He’s probably just dreading having to babysit her.

--

He can already practically hear her teeth grinding by the time they get to the door of Shakers, let alone inside. They can hear (to be fair, godawful) rock music as well as the noise of what sounds like a pretty big crowd through the door, and he casts a glance in her direction. Her jaw’s clenched, brow furrowed, and eyes narrowed as she stares at the door before turning to the side and meeting his gaze.

“What? We going in or not?” she snaps, and he shrugs and waves a hand at her, gesturing to her general demeanour.

“I dunno, are we?”

She rolls her eyes and steps away from him, but he sees her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

It’s loud. Really loud. Not too bright at least, but even he immediately catches the faint scent of alcohol, cigarettes and weed in the air. He can only imagine how strong it is to her.

His concerns for her are quickly overshadowed though when it takes less than a minute for his eyes to land on a group of men playing pool near the back of the room. He recognises them straight away, which means that they’re going to recognise him straight away and they’ll be gone before he and Morgan have gotten anywhere near them.

“Shit,” he mutters, ducking his head and turning to face Morgan more so as to turn himself away from them.

“What?” she snaps, glaring at him and not seeming to realise that something’s gone wrong, too caught up in trying to distract herself from the sensations bombarding her.

“I know them,” he answers distractedly, looking her up and down for a moment before casting a quick glance around the room in search of somewhere quieter. Something that doesn’t seem to exist in this bar.

He grabs her hand and pulls her over to the bar, nudging her to sit up on one of the stools and standing beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders and leaning in close to her. The close contact seemed to work the previous day when she was starting to become overwhelmed on the street outside, there’s no reason to think that it won’t work again in here.

“What do you mean you know them?” she asks, her voice a little less impatient as she leans back against him slightly, and he doesn’t miss the soft sigh of relief she lets out as he feels her body start to relax a little.

He doesn’t know why physical contact with him, of all people, seems to help her out but he’s going to count it as a bonus when it means that he’s able to set her at ease enough for her to function in these situations.

He glances back towards the pool table, but looks away again just as quickly, leaning down closer to Morgan to hide his face when he sees that the group are starting towards the door.

“They know you?” Morgan finally seems to click on, looking quickly towards the group and then back at him, and he only just realises how close he’s gotten to her when her nose just about brushes against his when she does it.

“Mhm,” he distractedly hums in reply, and she studies him for a moment before a small smirk crosses her face.

“I’ve been trying to get this close to you since we met, and now you’re telling me all it would’ve taken was a few demons to scare you?”

This bitch. He frowns at her, his arm dropping away from her shoulders as he straightens up again and moves away from her, temporarily forgetting that he’s trying to hide himself.

“I am not scared.” He spits indignantly.

Of all the things for her to say. Scared.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

Condescension drips from every word and his frown deepens into a glare. “Fuck you.”

“They’re going to see you,” she ignores his insult and nods behind him, and his eyes dart towards the group that have thankfully already moved past him when he remembers that whatever she thinks about him, them seeing him would be a disaster and if they knew that he was after them they’d be looking for them for weeks.

He subtly watches them go, waiting until the last two people are through the door, a blonde guy and a freakishly short girl, and then grabs Morgan’s hand and pulls her off of the stool. “Come on.”

He practically drags her out onto the street, making sure to keep a fair distance away from the group without losing sight of them through the crowd until he realises where they’re going.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Morgan mutters from beside him, obviously realising the same thing at the same time, and he stops and watches them step through the doors of the same motel that they’re staying in.

He grins and looks over at her, letting go of her hand. “Our job just got a whole lot easier.”

“You think?”

He doesn’t bother answering, just heads towards the motel once he’s sure that they’ve had a chance to get to their room and he’s not about to run into them in the lobby.

He’s stayed here countless times, he knows pretty much the entire reception staff, it shouldn’t be too hard for him to find out what room they’re staying in and pay them a visit when they’re not expecting it. Then all he needs to do is convince Morgan that he doesn’t need her help with his next job, they can go their separate ways, and everyone will be happy.

--

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @homeformyheart @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @fhauvilles @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @agentnolastname @utterlyinevitable @masonscig

[blissfulsun]

hey!!! your writing is soo amazing💞💞 could you please do #14 and #11 with Jeff🥺🥰

hello lovely!! thank u that acc means the world to me😩❣️ sorry this took a lil longer than I thought it would but I hope you like this one😚

word count: 1,462

Miscommunications // Jeff Wittek

There was something about LA when the sun had just come up, the city of angles usually a far fetched name in reality.

Although, if you asked Jeff, he'd let it slip he knows one personally.

That's how he saw you, an angel who could do no wrong in his eyes.

His moods never affected negatively in your calming presence, short temper manageable with you around.

The others thought you were magic at first, or at least, really good in bed before they found out what the two of you had was only friendship.

Granted, if Jeff had it his way you would've progressed past that stage by now also.

If you were the angel between the pair of you, he must be the devil.

He really wished he had a pitchfork handy right about now, watching you smile and nod in conversation with someone other than himself.

Hikes were your guys thing, sure, Todd tagged along sometimes if he wasn't too hungover to function.

But ultimately it was y/n & Jeff, most of the city still asleep giving him time to start his day right, with you by his side.

This guy didn't seem to get the memo, picking up friendly conversation when you tried to take a picture of a fidgeting Nerf at the top of the hill.

Anyway, Jeff thinks his name was Lake or something? And he was really good at making you laugh apparently, as the two of you walked slightly ahead on your way down.

'Green is not your colour bro' Todd teases, interested to see his best friend appear so threatened by a stranger half a head shorter.

Jeff only mutters in reply but Todd catches the '...need to find a new hiking trail' in his rushed rambling.

They continue the rest of the way in silence, your laughter and Nerf's heavy breathing in his ear the only sounds.

'Great!! I'll text you about it...' Jeff feels his mood dampen further with your declaration.

You're waving your new friend off, cause that's all he is in truth, and then you're sat in the passenger seat of your crush's car again.

The car ride feels weirdly tense, silence taking over your usual routine of playful bickering and singing off key to each other.

You try and not over think it, though it's often your favourite past time.

Not in this friendship with Jeff though, you both stressed how important trust and communication is early on in your budding relationship.

Granted, he was hoping that conversation to form a kind of foundation for something else, but at this point he has settled for at least having you in his life, just the thought of a you shaped absence leaving him cold.

You snap out of thought when Jeff takes a left instead of a right, confusion evident in your question 'You missed a turn bub, I thought we were going to your apartment?’

His hands tighten their grasp around the wheel momentarily. 'I have a couple of errands today, just gonna drop you off home.' His decision causes both of your hearts to sink.

Jeff knows he's being short with you, the reaction driven by red hot jealousy mostly beyond his control. 'I could go with you?' his clenched jaw unwinds slightly at the tender tone you take on.

Your mind is spinning, the two of you were pratically attached at the hip, always getting chores and jobs alike done with your partner in crime. 

Jeff sighs, the frustration evident in his tense shoulders. 'Not today y/n/n' He feels even worse when he catches a glimpse at your crest fallen expression in the rearview mirror.

Neither of you speaks for the rest of the short ride. On a normal day, you'd be dreading the sight of your home nearing, the incoming goodbyes with Jeff (though short lived) always heavy on your heart, but for once it provides unexpected relief.

You can't get out of the car fast enough, hands shakily gripping to remove the seat belt before Jeff has even properly parked.

'Woah woah, angel why are you in such a rush?' He's trying to lighten the mood, wanting to keep you within the close proximity for a little longer despite his own contradicting plans. 

The bitterness with which you deliver your response feels foreign, 'I don't know, wouldn't want to keep you from your errands.' You regret it in an instant, especially when you register Jeff's lost expression upon first glance.

And then it changes, his brow furrows & there's a determined glint in his eyes as he turns off the engine and locks all the doors, effectively trapping you inside.

‘Are you going to start seeing that guy?' straight to the point, he's fed up of dancing around these feelings.

Hell, if he's going to lose you it might as well be because to unreciprocated feelings instead of the annoyingly friendly hiker. 

'What??-' You're stumped. He's left you speechles plenty before, though in far different scenarios. 'You mean Luke?' Jeff's eyes roll involuntarily, 'I mean, we chatted about maybe grabbing lunch sometime. But it wasn't anythi-'

‘-you seemed to like him. Reckon you'll be a cute couple. You want to put our hikes on pause? Let you get to know-' the pair of you continue to interrupt each other.

‘I...how could you ask me that? What are you even saying?' You're not sure what to feel, anger, hurt and confusion all mixing a dangerous cocktail in your gut. 

It hits you suddenly, a crashing wave of realisation. You stumble between thoughts, mind incapable of wrapping around the fact Jeff, is jealous.

The next couple of minutes feel cruicial as you wonder: how long? is he just being protective? holy shit I'm in love with you please feel the same way.

You clear your throat before speaking. 'I'm not intrested in Luke. Not in going on hikes with him or even really grabbing that coffee, I would rather do those things with you.'

Jeff's heart is losing some of it's extra weight as you continue. 'wanna run stupid errands and walk Nerf with you..or really anything else you might want t-'

'-go out with me.' It feels amazing to say, the feeling only growing as he reaches for your smaller hand.

You squeeze once, staring at the soft smile reflected in his eyes, a short breath leaves you before you're eagerly nodding.

‘Yeah? ...forget about coffee doll, I'll take you to dinner instead.' And then he's coming closer. You're not sure what to focus on, the warmth of his skin on your hand or the still decreasing space between your faces.

Jeff leans across your frame...and opens the passanger door. 'I'll pick you up at 8?' He's not really asking, smug in the realisation of his effect on you.

Your cheeks redden and you scramble to get out the car. 'What am I meant to wear?' -'Whatever you want doll, you look perfect in everything' It feels good to finally let his thoughts and words roam free, no filter enforced.

You watch him reverse and drive off, baffled by how quickly he regained control of the situation despite your initial advantage, though you can't say you're mad. Legs buckling as you rush to get inside and prepared despite the early hour of the day.

Meanwhile, Jeff calls in for back up, all of your available friends helping him plan the perfect date to wow his future girl with.

He's half aware that though the effort will be appreciated, you would be just as happy taking a simple drive or grabbing some take out and spending the rest of the night on his sofa. 

There will be plenty of that still, he thinks, allowing his mind to wander to thoughts of holding you in his arms and kissing you whenever he likes for the first time in a long while.

It's suddenly a possibility again, that particular reminder stays with him as he cleans up and shows up at your door.

He's perfectly on time, having sat in his car in your driveway for a good couple of minutes to calm his erratic heart. All nerves disappear when the door opens and you're illuminated by the colourful dawn behind him.

Jeff has always thought you're an angel, this, only serves as confirmation to his beliefs as you stand before him. 'You look amazing tonight...' the compliment is delivered while breathless, much like how he's left you feeling at first glance.

‘Thank you' you beam at him and he takes the leap to grab your hand.

There's no clumsy firsts, you fall into each other as if it's habit, the rest of the night the beginning of it all, exactly what Jeff, and secretly yourself, have been waiting on for far too long.

[letsperaltiago]

i love you and i like you

Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post: 

“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her

Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."

Read on ao3

Every like and reblog is appreciated <3

Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.

Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.

Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:

“They just grow up so fast.”

Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.

This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.

With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.

All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.

It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.

One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.

“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“

“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”

“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.

“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.

“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.

“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.

“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.  

“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”

Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.

“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.

“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”

He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.

“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.

“I wuv you.”

She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.

“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.

“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”

A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.

From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.

One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.

“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.

It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.

“I need pee.”

“Oh.”

This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.

“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”

And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.

With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.

“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.

They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.

“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.

Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.

“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”

It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.

Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.

Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.

Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game…  But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.

“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips  as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.

“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”

Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.

They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.

“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.

“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”

God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.

“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.

“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”

And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.

Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.

“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.

That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.

A sigh leaves her body.

“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.

“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.

“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”

There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.

“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”

“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”

Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.

“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”

He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.

“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”

“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.

A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.

“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.

“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.

“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”

“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”

Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it

“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.

The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.

“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.

First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.

“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.

As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.

“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”

“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”

Of course.

Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.

“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.

Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.

“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”

And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.

That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”

So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.

Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.

“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.

She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.

“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.

“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.

“You sure?” she tries again.

He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.

And they’re right.

“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”

Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.

“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”

“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.

Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.

So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.  

[kimnjss]

groupielove!hoseok | a-z

⤑  series: groupie love

⤑ genre: smut, rapper!hoseok x youtuber!reader, idol au

⤑ rating: explicit. // nd unedited.

⤑ warnings: smut talk... (mentions of) oral sex (f/m. receiving), penetrative sex, blowjobs, phone sex, public sex...

⤑ A/N: oomg :( thiss ended sooo quick , nd i miss them already!? buut , groupie love hoseok is a sweetheart and lowkey i want one .

A = Aftercare (what's he like after sex):

Hoseok was very good at keeping your interest in mind, even if it wasn't in a sexual setting. Because of this, he was always making sure to check in on you after a round. He knows how much you like to be cuddled, so that would be his go to if you weren't feeling like getting up to shower.

B = Body Part (his favorite body part of his and also yours):

Your lips. From the pretty way that you smile, to the way they wrap around his cock. Hoseok loves your mouth and could spend hours kissing you, with no sight of escalating. There was just something about them that he couldn't resist.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically...):

Hoseok wasn't really into cum play... at least not as much as you were. You had surprised him when you were asking him to finish on your face while you blew him. Of course, he didn't hesitate; carried out your request and couldn't deny you looked sexy with your cheeks sticky with his arousal.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his):

Since you were demonstrating your moans in the studio, he hasn't stopped thinking about fucking you on recording. Secretly implementing the sounds into a track, no doubt it would be reaching number one.

E = Experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?):

Hoseok is way more experienced than you, in bed only. The both of you are brand new when it came to relationships, which made it easier to learn things together... sex in a relationship was different from hooking up – so he was learning new things there too.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying...):

You didn't do it often, so Hoseok was savoring the times where you'd actually get on top and ride him. It was a huge turn on for him to watch you let go and enjoy yourself, getting yourself off with his cock. He was always surprised with how into it you got once you stopped worrying about it.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc.):

Hoseok is definitely more serious in the moment. Because you don't have that much experience, he doesn't want to make you feel any type of way. He does, though, have you laughing – naturally. Things aren't tense between the two of you, just more comfortable and cautious.

H = Hair (how well-groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes? how does he like you?):

His unofficial stage uniform is ripped jeans – sans shirt. It was a great habit of his to lower the waistband of his shorts just a bit (for the fans, you know)? Because of this, he made sure to keep his public hair at a minimum. As for you, he didn't care either way as long as he was able to see what he was doing down there.

I = Intimacy (how is he in the moment, romantic aspect...):

Hoseok is not as romantic with you, more so cheesy. Relationships are new to him, so he's pretty much going on his feelings at the moment. He has a lot of feelings for you and they tend to come out in the mushiest way whenever the two of you were together.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

It use to be something that he was doing often, especially while he was on tour and there was no good pussy available. But ever since the two of you started dating and FaceTime sex has become a thing, he began to correlate it with the feeling of missing you he got each time you two were hanging up a FT call.

K = Kink (one ore more of his kinks):

Hand holding. Could it even be considered a kink? Hoseok always found himself reaching for your hand just moments before he was about to cum, lacing your fingers together and holding on tight. The innocent skinship had him reacting in ways that were less than innocent.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Studio. His place. Practice Room. Backstage. These wouldn't be considered his favorite places, just the places were you two fucked most often. Hoseok liked it most when you two were able to relax and be together without any type of time pressure, that was only happening if he was spending the night at your house.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going):

Seeing you in short skirts. He had to admit, the style that you presented to him when you were first meeting was very attractive. It was his type. Now, he did like you... for you and loved how you had your own type of style – but !! whenever you were pulling out a tight little skirt, he found himself touchier than normal.

N = NO (something he wouldn't do, turn offs):

Pain. A slap on the ass here and there, or maybe some biting – but anything after that Hoseok was not into any pain. He didn't think hurting you should be something he should get off on and he didn't want to be hurt either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Receiving. After a long night on stage, or in the studio or practicing... Hoseok really liked to relax with you on your knees for him. He was never asking for it, it was something that you kind of knew?? would cheer him up. That didn't mean, though, he wasn't putting it work between your legs when it came down to it. He'd never miss a chance to make you feel good... in any way, shape or form.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.):

Slow and sensual, definitely. If he's real riled up, he might start out fast – trying to feel as much of you as he can at once, but as time passed he'd start to get more into it and his thrusts would start to slow down. This is where he's reaching for your hand and looking you in the eyes as he finishes.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often... etc.):

It wasn't like he liked a quickie, it was more so a need in your relationship. With his hectic schedule and the limited time that you two are granted to even see each other... a quickie here and there is needed to keep him sane. No doubt, though, he prefers to have proper sex and will definitely be craving it if you had a quickie that day.

R = Risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks):

Hoseok will experiment, but nothing risky. The farthest he'll go is maybe trying out a new position, fucking in a different location. But things that were crazy or could even be dangerous were a big no for him. S = Stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last...):

He could last for a very long time... but only once. It was a coin toss, really. If you wanted many rounds, then you should expect many short rounds... if not than you'd be getting one long round. Either way, he was making sure that you were cumming each time. T = Toy (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?):

After he had left for tour and FaceTime sex became the norm for the both of you, Hoseok was surprising you with a vibrator for you to use when he called you. Hesitant at first, but eventually agreeing Hoseok loved to watch the way you got yourself off with it. How your body would react when it was hitting deep inside you. Now that he was home, though, the toy has been banished to the drawer and won't make an appearance until he has to leave again.

U = Unfair (how much does he like to tease?):

Hoseok likes it a lot when you tease. It has a lot to do with the fact that you're not doing it unless you're feeling really comfortable. You being relaxed enough to start teasing him always had him feeling good. He would try to tease you at times, but the sound of you begging had him weak and he wasn't able to hold back for long. V = Volume (how loud is he, what sounds does he make?):

Loud and whiny. Especially if he's cum already that night. Hoseok is one to vocalize all the things that he likes that you're doing... whether he's doing it with verbal praise or whiny moans falling from his lips. It had surprised you that he sounded like that, but you liked the pout on his lips as he squirmed. Usually when you were sucking him off. W = Wild Card

When you're finally agreeing to go with him on tour, Hoseok plans to fuck you in every last city you visit.

X = X-Ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, pictures or words):

He's about average length, on the thicker side. Hoseok's cock is very veiny, stands up straight when he's hard. The tip a dark tint of pink, precum often dribbling down the sides when he was real turned on.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?):

His sex drive is more schedule based than anything. Wanted you before a show, after a long day... you were like a distresser for him and he was quickly becoming the same for you. At night too, when you were slipping into one of his shirts and sliding into bed smelling like him – he wanted you the most then.

Z = Zzz... (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?):

Hoseok was hardly ever falling asleep after you had just fucked. Unless it was late night and time for bed, he was usually up and ready to go about his day after getting off. When the two of you were able to relax, though, he'd take to cuddling – but time would be passed watching TV or just talking, not sleeping.

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[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

i live for your ot4 + 1 stories omg... Could I have like,a super fluffy one?With lots and lots of smooches and cuddles?Thanks xx

Thank you Darling! I adore the OT4+1! I do hope that you love this one too!

~

It had been a month! One entire month since you had all gotten together and actually be together like you were intended. Your relationship was something that you took great pride in and while you didn’t mind one on one time with one of your boyfriends or even if only some of you got together, there was always that missing feeling, that missing piece of being able to have all five of you together as was your normal.

So this morning when you had woken up with only a stuffed Chocobo in bed you had to admit you were getting a little lonely! When you’re used to sleeping with four other people sharing the Behemoth King sized bed, it got really lonely really fast to wake up as the only person in the bed.

Whoever the jerk that coined the phrase: ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’, never went a month without a proper dose of affection!

This month was a busy one for the Royals, it was meeting upon meeting, traveling, and balls. Strengthening allies and forging bonds! It was a tradition as old as the beautiful city you called home. 

You knew that falling in love with these men meant falling in love with a job that would take them away from you. You yourself could only attend so much of their lives, the more glitz and glamor parts. You appeared at every ball, every media event that required you to be there to be the “Prince’s Girlfriend”. All the political stuff was far beyond your realm of understanding or caring for that matter, so your presence didn’t apply when it came to the day to day meetings.

 Still, it didn’t mean that your heart didn’t ache for them when they were suddenly gone so long that their scent no longer lingered on their pillows or clothes in the apartment.

Prompto got a lot more time off than your other three boyfriends. Granted he didn’t have a 9-5 type of job, some of his shifts would run him days at a time, and even then he still had to go to training with Cor. For the past month, he had been out of the house with Gladiolus at 5am almost every day.  Only to return home at 11pm, getting something in the stomach. a shower, and you were then putting him to bed.

Gladiolus, on the other hand, was use these long stints. He had been training for it for all his life, he knew how to train that wonderful body to withstand pretty much anything that could be thrown at him. But you could count on one hand the amount of times that you got to actually cuddle with him. He had to spend quite a bit of time at the castle second only to Ignis.

Ignis was a very dutiful man, you often worried simply because you feared he would crash. He was so stoic and always held such a strong powerful demeanor that if one didn’t know the Advisor they wouldn’t notice the slights in his posture and gaze that showed even he was at a limit. He would only return to the apartment on nights that Noctis could sneak away, but even those moments were so short and in between.

Noctis was the one that often would apologize to you when something would take him away, but you couldn’t blame him. You never blamed him! It wasn’t his fault that he was such an important person. You felt the lingering hold he gave you when Ignis would awaken him to take him away for the day.

You were often offered a room within the Citadel, which you only took up when a party ran late, or there was no one to escort you home for the evening. You didn’t wish to have them worried about you and your needs when they had so many more important things to worry about. Besides having to sneak into their rooms to get your cuddles and kisses was only fun for the first couple of times.

You knew it was hard, not just for you, but for them as well. So you were determined to always get up, walk them to the door, no matter what ungodly time in the morning it was that they would have to leave to start their days. Providing a kiss and a hug and a sweet “Have a nice day! I love you.” before they were gone for who knows how long this time, and you’d return to a large empty bed.

At least that was your normal until this week when suddenly the bed and apartment were empty all week, due to them taking lodging at the Castle as it was easier to stay there. No amount of video games, shopping, reading, or sleeping seemed to make the time go faster. You’d get a quick voice message waking you up, or telling you good night, or a text when on a break but that wasn’t filling this void.

So today when you were ushered into the car by one of the Crowns Guard you couldn’t help but stop smiling. Your carriage was whisking you away to the Citadel, where the Farewell party was to take place within the next few hours. You’d finally get the missing pieces of your heart back!

 Even just being in the same building as them, made you feel so much better. You had caught a glimpse of Noctis and Ignis on their way to another meeting. Noctis stopped looking ready to take off towards you, only to be halted by Ignis, who you knew if he wasn’t trying to keep them both on schedule would have run to sweep you up in his arms. 

So for the moment, you settled for a smile, wave of the hand, and slight bow of the head.  You watched them disappear first on their way, before continuing to your perfect evening. You sat through the primping, the styling, squeezing into the slimming dress, all of it with a smile because tonight would be the night you got to be just the tiniest selfish. But you so earned it!

As it was normal for you now, you stood before the large doors to the ballroom. Wearing one of the latest dresses that you were certain cost way too much for the fabric, but you knew that it was part of the package. One more quick over by those lovely ladies that helped you get ready, and you were left alone.

“Announcing…”

You took a deep inhale, it was easier to do this with one of the others, but you had figured that they all actually had to be within the room, so you were forced to go in alone. The doors cracked open, as you counted to three like Ignis had told you to, before taking a step forward. 

The entrance faced the throne, where you were greeted to King Regis and Clarus but your Prince was missing, and knowing that at least Ignis and Gladiolus would be by his side it kind of confused you. Only for your eyes to move to the dance floor, finding Noctis standing there, along with Prompto and Gladiolus all three of their eyes trained to you as if you were the only person within the room, but where was Ignis? 

If you weren’t so worried that you would have tripped over yourself you would have rushed down to the dance floor immediately to launch yourself at them but luckily you remained calm and level headed. Only to make your way down the stairs, immediately finding a gloved hand assisting you down the final three. A huge smile on your face as you felt Ignis lift your hand to his lips before escorting you to King Regis for your customary greeting.

A curtsey to the King and you found another hand before you, this time finding Gladiolus, another quick press of his lips to the knuckles where only a moment ago Ignis’s lips had been, before he moved you over to Noctis, his large steps shorten. You couldn’t tell if it was so that he got a little more time with you, or because he didn’t want you to trip in your dress, but either way it was nice to have him there.

Your hand pasted to Noctis, as you bowed again, only customary, as Noctis hated it but the royal protocol and all that jazz required you to bow to your Prince. You felt Noctis move you to the dance floor, having to stifle a giggle, as you heard the flourish of the band started.

“What’s so funny?” Noctis asked, as he began the dance.

You smiled nailing the first spin easily, “You.”

“What about me?” He inquired, parting from you before spinning you back towards himself.

“You would save the first dance for me?” You jokingly asked, making certain to stay far enough away, the last thing you needed was a repeat of practice when you accidentally hit his injured leg and took the both of you down.  Granted that got you babying him all evening, which Noctis absolutely adored.

“Well yeah.” Noctis chuckled. “Had to fight Prompto for the spot.”

“Where is that ray of sunshine?”

“He’s with the Marshal on duty, but he said to save him a dance,” Noctis replied, as you giggled. Those blue eyes lowered for a moment, before focusing back on you, “Y/N, I’m…”

You hushed him as you pulled further into him, “No apologies, I love all of you. This is just a part that I love too, granted slightly less but still, I love it all the same.” 

Noctis chuckled, “Thank you.”

By the time you were all in the car heading home together, you had to admit that you suddenly felt that all those teasing moments of affection made you, even more, touch starved for the others. Common courtesy and Royal Rules made PDA very difficult to come by. You could only get so many hand kisses, and dances before you felt that it wasn’t doing enough. You wanted actual kisses, cuddles, and affection not these four-minute dances and second long kisses.

It was your affection and cuddles and you wanted them…

NOW!

“You all right?” 

You almost didn’t hear the question, so focused on trying not to jump across the car to one of them and just explode in affection. “I’m good.” You lied, noticing the apartment come into view, you could hold it in! You did so for a month, what was just ten more, long, grueling agonizing more minutes?

You put all your attention into holding onto the hem of your dress, lifting it so that you didn’t get it caught in the car door, or the elevator door. You entered the apartment after Gladiolus and Prompto as always, the two guards making certain that the room was safe to enter, trailed by Noctis and Ignis who made certain that you didn’t get caught in the door. 

You told yourself that you’d wait until you were out of the dress until you could remove your makeup and your hundreds of bobby pins. But then you saw the suit jackets being removed, the removed necktie, the slightly messed up hair, and the relaxed nature.

“Y/N, would you…”

You weren’t certain of who you had grabbed first, only to drag them towards you as you finally got a kiss that you wanted for so long. Only after a moment did you realize that it was Ignis you had closest to you, more than likely asking if you wanted help getting out of your dress before you grabbed him.

“How long have you been holding that in?” Gladiolus chuckled, only to grunt as you unexpectedly reached up, grabbing the first thing you could get ahold of, which was, unfortunately, his hair, yanking him towards you as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“She’s worse than you Prom,” Noctis chuckled, as you turned wrapping your arms around Prompto’s neck, pulling him forward as you pressed a kiss to the blonde.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Gladiolus laughed, managing to hold a daze but happy Prompto up, as you cupped the Prince’s cheeks, pulling him into your final barrage of kiss attacks.

“My love,” Ignis called, as you released Noctis, turning toward the man with a flushed face, judging by the others, he couldn’t tell if there was more lipstick on your lips or the others. “Shall we get you out of the dress and we can properly provide you with the affection you so rightfully deserve?”

You managed to get yourself under control for just a moment, before nodding, “You have five minutes, I’m getting my cuddles, dress or no dress.”

“I vote no dress.” Gladiolus chuckled, moving over to scoop you up in his arm moving you back to the bedroom.

“I second!”  Prompto cheered from behind the big guy.

“Third!” Noctis echoed, working on removing his collared shirt.

Ignis chuckled fondly, “It’s unanimous. Shall we then?”

You would be more than happy to fulfill that request, no questions asked.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Missing - Part 3.3

There will be one more part to finish this chapter.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. We just have a few questions to ask you.”

“Of course! Anything to help!”

“I guess to start: What is the nature of your relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“She’s a cool kid. She works hard, goes above and beyond, and is really creative. She’s got talent, let me tell you!”

“I see. So you’ve had interactions with Marinette? Perhaps even meetings?”

“Well, sure. I’ve commissioned a few things from her. She’s one of the only ones who gets my style, you know?”

“Were these meetings generally private?”

“Yeah. We kind of have to keep them on the down low. She’s just a kid, after all and the last thing anyone wants is for her to be hounded or bothered by the media. So it’s just me and my team and her and her parents.”

“Wait—and her parents?”

“Of course! Have to get the parentals’ okay before asking their little girl to make anything, regardless of what I’m paying for it. It only seemed right since my requests are taking up her time. She’s just started working on a new jacket that includes an accent that is supposed to glow in the dark!”

“I…see…”

“Yeah. Plus Tom and Sabine are awesome. Even if they put their foot down about allowing her to try and make a jacket for pet—”

“Sir, are you aware of Miss Dupain-Cheng being in a relationship?”

“You mean that blond kid she’s crazy about? Did she finally ask him out?”

“Well, no. There have been some reports of her having an...um...older boyfriend?”

“...what?”

“And that he looked like...you?”

“WHAT?!”

_______________________

Paris was a lovely city. Full of equally loving people.

“Here!” Andre held out the ice cream with a joyful note in his voice. “A magical treat for our magical savior!”

Ladybug started in surprise. She tried to decline politely even as she couldn’t help but eye the ice cream with longing. “Oh, I couldn’t—“

“Nonsense!” He reassured her, pushing the cup to her. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for Paris!”

Well, if he insisted...

She accepted the offering, feeling the chill in her fingers even through her suit. “Thank you.”

“But of course! And who knows? Maybe it will help bring love to your life.”

She highly doubted ice cream could accomplish that.

“You never know.” He told her as he gave her a conspiratorial wink. “There is all sorts of magic in this world. You are proof enough of that!”

She simply smiled and bade him a good day before leaving with ice cream in hand.

Such a strange man, she mused. But the offer was nice of him. And the ice cream was rather good.

The people here were quite kind. Upon seeing her, many of them had wanted to give her such treats or other foods for free. Part of her felt bad for accepting the offers, even as they insisted it was out of thanks for helping them so much.

But as much as she wanted to decline—and probably should have at points, she kept accepting. It seemed likely for the best though. And now she wasn’t sure she should refuse.

She hadn’t realized how tired she had been getting until after that first incident of a civilian insisting on giving her cookies. While she had reluctantly accepted at the time, she had noticed a marked difference after ingesting the first one and almost inhaled the rest afterwards.

It was…unusual. She didn’t remember being like this before.

But it became more clear over time that she was losing energy. And food—particularly sweets and confections of that like—would be enough to recharge her strength.

When she first realized she was able to stay out longer after a battle, she had taken to patrolling and trying to track down any potential akumas before they could reach their target in hopes of determining their origin and where Hawk Moth may be hiding. But she hadn’t made any progress after the first couple of days, and didn’t realize just how much energy she was using up.

Now, she was trying to be more cautious and conserve her strength. After all, Hawk Moth was bound to send out an akuma sooner or later. And while she hoped to find the butterfly before it could akumatize anyone, Paris was a big city and it was not logical to expect she would just happen to be in the right place at the right time to find it before an attack could occur. In that event, she needed to ensure she still had energy for the battle. So while she would still patrol regularly, she had been making a point to take breaks and rest more often throughout the day.

But why was she still out? What normally happened once the fights were over to restore her strength? And why wasn’t it happening this time?

Something felt wrong, but try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what it was.

She paused for a moment, considering.

Perhaps Hawk Moth was planning something?

It had been a good few days since the last akuma. And he had yet to try anything since.

She frowned. It was rational, but something felt wrong.

She drew out of her musings to look around the park. It was rather empty, but it was also getting late so there were less civilians around. There were only a couple of people in the area. One was a young woman walking a dog. Two kids who were cutting through the park to get somewhere. And a single elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt who was seated on a bench nearby and appeared to be having tea.

Noticing her gaze, the man smiled and nodded to her in greeting.

“Hello, Ladybug. It is a rather lovely evening, is it not?”

“I suppose.” She replied, more out of politeness than any real agreement. It was just another day in Paris, as far as she could tell. Though the lack of an akuma was nice.

The man smiled, not at all put off by her response. “It is getting later, though. I imagine many people are are returning to their homes.”

She nodded. That made sense. And explained the growing lack of people in the area.

He looked up at her, seemingly curious. “Should you not return to your home as well?”

Ladybug blinked at that. “Home?”

“Certainly. I am sure that even a hero of Paris has a place she can rest at the end of the day.”

She frowned, trying to consider his words.

She had been active for days. Probably a week or so by this point. Whatever was supposed to happen after an akuma fight hadn’t this time, so she didn’t have a place to go.

“I have nowhere else I need to be.” She replied simply. It was true enough at any rate. Clearly dealing with Hawk Moth was the priority, and this was as good a chance as any to try and gain some advantage or intel.

The man, however, appeared concerned.

“Do you not have a life to return to? A family waiting for you?”

A life? A family.

How bizarre.

Such little things. So pointless. They would only hold her back and distract her from the mission at hand.

“Of course not.”

Homes and families were for the civilians she protected.

She didn’t need those things.

Why would she? She was Ladybug.

Just Ladybug.

_______________________

Kim liked to think he had grown some since the school year started. A bit at least.

He would admit he wasn’t the smartest person—that title belonged to Max and he was quite proud of his friend for it. After all, not just anyone could make a working robot that could live and feel.

But nonetheless, Kim wasn’t stupid. He just liked to believe the best in people.

Granted, that didn’t always work out—like with his attempt to ask out Chloe on Valentines Day.

But then there were the times it did—like when he sacrificed himself to save Chloe and his other classmates during the whole ‘kissing zombies’ incident.

Well…sort of. Chloe was still Chloe either way. But at least the zombies were dealt with. And Chloe…did seem to be trying to do better.

Emphasis on ‘trying’.

But in that regard, Kim had been trying as well. He had undergone some changes since the start of the year. He didn’t like to think it, but he hadn’t been the most observant or empathetic guy. He was self-centered in a lot of ways, not out of any malice, but simple ignorance. He had often done things without thinking. And while he may not have intended to be mean, he would still act in ways that would upset others without realizing he was doing it.

But having a friend turn into a stone monster and try to kill him made Kim reevaluate his idea of friendly teasing or just how he interacts with people in general.

And his idea of gentle ribbing may not be so gentle or friendly to others. It was…something he’d had to learn the hard way. And even relearn, given the panther incident. And again with Odine…

It was something he was still working on. And had to catch himself at times. Whether or not he intended harm didn’t matter. That he had been trying to be helpful in his own way also didn’t matter. Because Kim’s idea of tolerance and what was okay or too much or not enough was different than other people’s. It was something he still struggled to be mindful of.

That was why he didn’t comment on the strangeness of Lila’s injuries.

A sprained wrist should have been in a brace of some sort. Some of her reported injuries should have had indicators like scratches, bruises, or red marks. Her claimed arthritis should have involved swelling or tremors. But there was often nothing.

There were points when Lila’s claims of being in pain made him raise an eyebrow.

Kim was an athlete, and had his fair share of experiences with people who had injuries and how they worked. So it was strange to him that Lila could be lacking any of the common indicators. But some injuries couldn’t be seen easily, and he also had experience with what could happen if they weren’t treated appropriately because of assumptions based on that.

Lila’s symptoms were strange and all over the place. But Kim wasn’t a doctor. It wasn’t his place to judge or determine.

Not to mention that people were different. She could just have a lower pain threshold. And it was possible her body could just outwardly heal fast as far as appearances go.

Kim had no way of knowing for sure without either questioning her or becoming invasive. But he wanted to take her word for it, so he continued to help her out. He didn’t mind, really. What was a lunch tray or an extra bag to carry for a few minutes anyway?

He understood Marinette’s anger at the idea of being used. He didn’t like the thought either. But if it did turn out that she was lying, what did he really lose? He still would have helped out. There didn’t need to be any injuries involved. Honestly, he would have done the same if any of the other girls had asked. Heck, even if one of the guys had.

There was nothing he lost by a few minutes of kindness here and there. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t worth questioning or trying to argue over.

While he could understand why Marinette might be upset if she thought Lila was lying, he didn’t see any reason to actively try to disprove it.

It was like people with allergies or unseen medical issues. Just because you couldn’t see where they had a health problem didn’t mean it wasn’t there.  Even if there isn’t necessarily active proof, it was safer to treat the person like the condition was real because you don’t know for sure. And you could just be making yourself out to be a jerk either way if you did act on it.

Even if the napkin incident was kind of lame.

He saw the way the class almost got up in arms over Lila’s claimed injury by a napkin. He saw the way Max clearly wanted to say something to correct them. He also saw the way Marinette only got upset because of it. Maybe he should have spoken up then, but he didn’t want to be dismissive of Lila’s health issues regardless of how real he thought they were.

Maybe catching the napkin WAS enough to bother her? It could have been the movement of her arm rather than the weight of the napkin. He didn’t know. And he’d had enough instances of being a jerk because he questioned and pushed things instead of simply accepting them.

He did feel bad for Marinette though. If she was so distrustful of Lila, he was sure she had reasons. But trying to disprove someone’s medical condition in such a blatant show wasn’t really the best way to go about things if she didn’t believe they were real. He agreed with her that it was fishy, though, and considered that if it kept happening, maybe they could try some other way of finding out for sure. Talk with the teachers about their concerns. Check with the nurse to confirm if any of this is in her medical history. Maybe see if as the Class Rep, Marinette couldn’t get in touch with Lila’s mom to determine her needs. That way, they could at least be sure and have all the information straight.

He figured he could talk to her about it at some point when there was time.

He thought they’d have time.

But life happens.

People act without thinking.

Akumas go on a rampage.

Friends go missing.

And suddenly little things like whether a classmate is faking injuries for perceived special treatment he would happily have given regardless seemed a lot less important.

He had to have priorities.

His main priority at this time, other than schoolwork and sports, was to try and find Marinette or any clues on what happened to her. Which was why he was still going out on the streets after school to search.

It had been something he started since the class initially discussed plans to try searching themselves. And it’s something he hadn’t stopped since then either.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the brightest move to go searching alone, but that was why he had Max on speed dial in case anything happened to him. His parents were informed and knew where he would be each outing. And he also had his phone set up to keep track of his location, which his parents could easily find and Max was no doubt keeping track of even at this moment.

They made a good team this way. Not just brains and brawn, since Max wasn’t weak anymore than Kim was stupid. But they both had their strengths and they worked best as a team when they each played to their strengths.

In this case, Max was searching as well in his own way, even if that way was from his computer rather than in person. Kim could get farther faster on foot whereas Max could span miles in minutes by computer. That way, they could coordinate and cover more ground.

They kept in touch constantly though. Which is how Kim knew something was wrong.

“Max? You there?”

There was only silence.

He looked at his phone in worry. Of the two of them, Kim was the one who was supposed to be more likely to encounter some sort of trouble. What could possibly happen to Max in his room?

“Max? Anyone?”

“Kim?”

That wasn’t Max.

“Markov?”

“Oh thank goodness!” The AI spoke from the phone screen, clearly frazzled. “An akuma appeared and took us!”

“Wait—what?! Why?!” Max had been in his room! Why would anyone try to go after him and Markov specifically? Kim frowned, eyes narrowing as he took charge. “Do you know who it is?”

“From my data, the akuma was a match for Lady Wifi.”

Kim gasped. “Alya?”

It made sense, now that he thought about it. He hadn’t been there for the incident, but he had heard from others in the class how Alya had apparently been suspended after supposedly attacking Lila while they were alone in class. He wasn’t sure he believed it, as that sounded particularly out of character for the blogger. It was now with a sickening realization that he remembered the last time Alya had been suspended in what was later revealed to be an unfair manner.

If Alya had been wrongfully accused and punished—especially if she was suspended a second time for a similar reason—they should have figured that Lady Wifi would be likely to make a reappearance.

But why go after Max? He hadn’t even been involved!

“What should we do?” Markov asked. “I’ve routed myself to Max’s phone to contact you, but I don’t know how long it may be until she realizes it.”

“Do you know where she’s taken you guys?” Kim asked, glancing around his own location and already starting to work out what would be the best course to take.

“We appear to have been taken to a cellphone tower. One near the TVi station.”

“But why there?”

It didn’t make sense. If Alya was Lady Wifi, wouldn’t she go after Lila? Or the school? Or really anywhere that has more cellphones around for her to make use of?

“I am uncertain.” Markov replied, all the more worried. There was a pause, seemingly as something was happening on Markov’s end that Kim couldn’t hear. “She wants us to hack the tower. What should we do?”

Okay, this was time for action. Alya was the akuma, meaning the Ladyblog wouldn’t alert anyone of the attack. Quickly, Kim sent out a mass text to the class to give warning in case Lady Wifi would try going after them as well.

“Do what she says for now and keep an eye on her and Max. I’ll try to see if I can’t find help.”

Ladybug had been patrolling more actively lately, hadn’t she?

He just needed to find her.

Kim: Need to alert LB nd CN. If anyone gets ahold of them, let us know!

A few minutes later, he had a response.

Adrien: Just spoke to Chat. He’s on his way.

_______________________

By the time the two came down from the roof, school was already over.

Nino noticed the time and groaned once he realized how late it was. “I’d better check in with Alya and let her know we’re okay.” He pulled out his phone and started up a text as the two continue walking out of the building, passing other students. Nino gave a mutter about how he was already going to have one lady angry with him once his mom found out he’d skipped the rest of his classes for the day.

Adrien smiled sympathetically, but knew he wouldn’t be much help. He was pretty sure his father would be furious with him as well once word got back to him. So focused on their encroaching doom, neither noticed that they had passed Ivan and Mylene, getting their attention.

“Wait, Nino? Haven’t you heard?” Mylene called out to him. Nino and Adrien drew to a stop as the couple approached. There was something about Mylene’s terseness and Ivan’s frown that made them worry.

“Did something happen?” Nino asked. He and Adrien had been on that roof for a while, so there was no telling what they may have missed.

“Alya’s been suspended for fighting.” Ivan told the, looking distressed.

Both boys gaped.

“What?”

Mylene nodded, upset. “Rose and Juleka came in and told us that Alya attacked Lila.”

“WHAT?!”

“Where is she?” Nino demanded.

“Lila’s at the nurse’s station.” She continued with a gesture back towards the school. “She had a mark on her cheek but wasn’t hurt otherwise.”

But Nino only shook his head, appearing more frantic. “No, not her! Where’s Alya?”

“She left, man.” Ivan answered, drawing the attention to himself. “She was taken to the Principal’s office and her mom came to pick her up.”

Mylene shuddered. “I’d never seen her so angry before.”

Nino and Adrien shared a look, both worried and feeling a sense of foreboding.

“This is bad.” Nino moaned.

Adrien wilted in on himself at the news.

“It had to have happened just after I left.” He murmured in dismay.

Was this his fault?

Would it have been prevented if he had stayed?

“Wait a minute. Adrien, were you there?” Mylene asked.

He froze at that. They...they wanted to know, right? They wouldn’t be asking if they didn’t. Part of him wanted desperately to tell the other two what had happened.

But would they believe him?

“Go ahead, man.” He heard Nino say from right next to him. “They’ll listen.”

Both Ivan and Mylene nodded encouragingly.

He didn’t want to say it.

He didn’t want to revisit that moment of heartbreak, even as he tried to convince himself that none of it was true.

“Lila said that Marinette ran away.“ Seeing their horrified expressions, he steeled his resolve and continued. “Because of us.“

Mylene gasped.

Ivan clenched his fists, his smile dropping in an instant. “She what?!”

“They were already arguing by the time I got there.” Adrien explained. “Alya was angry. Lila was taunting her. Saying...all kinds of hurtful things.” He took a breath. “She admitted to lying about everything. Insulted Alya and everyone else for believing her. And she said…” He felt Nino’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, encouraging him and emboldening him to continue.

“She said we were bad friends and it was no wonder Marinette ran away.”

“Are…” Mylene hesitated, looking pale and stricken. It was clear she didn’t want to believe it. “Are you sure you didn’t mishear? Or maybe misunderstand?”

Adrien started to shrink in on himself, uncertain and beginning to second guess everything he’d witnessed. Maybe he had misunderstood? Or Lila meant something else? Or—

Nino’s grip on his shoulder tightened—not painfully, but enough to remind Adrien he was there and that he had support.

“That could explain one or two statements, but not everything.”

But it wasn’t Nino’s voice that spoke up in his defense.

Mylene wasn’t the only one to look to Ivan in surprise. The bigger boy looked angrier than they’d seen him since the start of the school year. Adrien was half worried he would become akumatized again.

It wasn’t long before Mylene appeared angry enough to match him. It was to Adrien’s relief though that both seemed to be angry on his behalf rather than with him.

“If that’s true, then it’s no wonder that Alya slapped her.“ She said darkly, sounding as though she wished for the chance to do so herself.

“I don’t think she did.“ Nino said flat out, drawing everyone’s attention back. “Alya texted me about that time to let me know what happened and asked me to look for Adrien. If she was rational enough to put a friend first after a comment like that, I don’t think there’s much else Lila could have said to make her react violently.”

Ivan started in surprise. “So you don’t think Alya attacked Lila?”

Mylene even looked to Nino, almost hopefully.

Nino shook his head. “Adrien said that Lila’s been lying about a lot of things. She was probably lying about that too.“

“No wonder Marinette didn’t like her.” Ivan murmured. “She’d been trying to counter any of Lila’s claims all this time. She probably knew they were lies.”

“I thought it was jealousy.“ Mylene admitted, guiltily. “Or maybe that she had just gotten the wrong impression like she did with Adrien at the beginning of the year.“

“I think we all brushed it off more than we should have.” Ivan took her hand in his own, giving a gentle squeeze in comfort. He straightened though as he remembered something.

“But what about the mark?

Nino scowled at that. “I’d be willing to bet Lila did something to make it look like Alya slapped her in order to gain sympathy and discredit Alya if she tried to tell anyone the truth.”

Adrien’s mind flashed to his initial meeting with Lila. How she expressed an interest in superheroes only after seeing him reading about them and the disappearance of his father’s Book shortly afterward. How Lila went so far as to get a necklace to try and pass off as a Miraculous in order to convince him she was a superhero.

“I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s certainly done it before.” He admitted. “But what can we do about it?“

Alya was already suspended. Lila had no doubt spun her web and shared her “version” of events with everyone. The teachers, the administration, the rest of the class...she probably had them all hanging off her “sob story”.

To everyone’s surprise, it was Mylene who stepped up to take charge.

“Adrien, you need to go to the Principal and tell him what really happened.”

He balked at that. “But I wasn’t there for the actual incident.“

“But you were there for what set it off.” She gently reminded him. “If nothing else, that gives context and at least shed some doubt on Lila‘s story.“

Ivan grinned. “That’s right! If you tell him that Lila instigated the incident, he may reverse the decision—or at least the suspension.”

“Do you really think so?” Adrien asked. He wasn’t used to authority figures listening to him and changing their minds about things like this. He was still half convinced his father’s agreement to letting him attend school was a fluke. His father’s response to the loss of the Book during the Volpina incident certainly hadn’t helped with that.

“It’s worth a try.” Nino said, encouragingly. “I know it’d be at least one more voice in Alya’s corner than she had.”

“And Alya’s parents would know if nothing else.“ Ivan added. “Even if the school decides to keep the suspension, it would certainly make a difference to her parents to know the full extent of what really happened. They may lessen her punishment at home, or at least not ground her.“

Adrien fought with himself.

There was that part of him—an admittedly big part that wanted to stay out of things. It would prolong the conflict. Lila was dangerous. She had some sort of influence on his father. She could get akumatized again. She could hurt him. Nathalie could find out. His father could find out.

But…

He’d told Marinette once that he was in her corner and hadn’t followed through.

And regardless of the reason she was gone, if he did ever see her again, he at least wanted to be able to look her in the eyes.

He didn’t think he could do that if he just abandoned her best friend—HIS friend when she needed him.

“Okay.” He agreed at last. “Principal Damocles is gone for the day, so I’ll come see him first thing in the morning and tell him what I know.”

The other three beamed at him. And for a moment, Adrien actually felt like things might just work out.

Then a text came that brought everything crashing down.

Kim: AKUMA ALERT!!! Lady Wifi is back and kidnapped Max and Markov!

_______________________

It had been a peaceful evening. Ladybug appreciated it and resented it at the same time.

Appreciated it for how the peace meant that the civilians of Paris were safe.

But resented it because it meant she had no akumas to track for leads to Hawk Moth. And if things were peaceful, it was likely that he was plotting something. Like the calm before a storm, knowing something was bound to happen but not necessarily what or when.

It also meant she was stuck with nothing but her own thoughts. About her presence here outside of akuma battles. About her general lack of purpose outside of fighting. About the inexplicable sense of longing though she knew not what it was for. And now about that elderly man she had met.

Asking questions that made no sense. Bringing up concepts that didn’t apply to her. Making her wonder things that didn’t matter.

And worst of all was that expression he had. There was a look in his eye as he gazed at her. Concerned and sad and disappointed all in one.

And she didn’t know WHY!

It was irritating. An intrusive, niggling feeling that just wouldn’t go away. And for all that she tried to brush it off, the strange thoughts and the man’s expression kept flickering back into focus as soon as she let her mind wander.

So she was grateful for any distraction by that point, even if it was a message from Chat Noir.

At least it was something useful for once.

“Ladybug! I just received word that Alya has been akumatized.”

Well, that was a relief. There was an akuma at last. However, the way he said that made it seem like the akuma was the lesser issue than who the akuma was. Which led to a problem on her end.

“Who?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, but didn’t stand out to her.

He paused at that, frowning in confusion. “Uh...Alya? From the Ladyblog?”

“Oh, that little fan site?” It was cute for what it was.

Chat’s frown only grew at that. “It’s not just a fan site. You’ve done interviews with her before, remember?”

Did she? She didn’t know why. It seemed silly to indulge something so inane. Not to mention dangerous to encourage the blogger’s antics and insistence on getting footage of akuma battles. The last thing she needed was for a civilian to jump into the fight, distract her, and get in the way. Not to mention how much more difficult it would be to deal with the akuma while trying to protect the civilian who lacked the sense to leave the area.

She shrugged.

“It doesn’t stand out.”

He gave her an incredulous look and mouthed the words to himself like he wasn’t sure what he was hearing. She didn’t know why this came as a surprise to him. Or why he would have such a reaction over something so frivolous.

“Okay…” He said, uncertain. “I got the report from a classmate that she’s taken hostages to the TVi station. I’m already on my way there now.”

“I’ll head that way as well. Stay in contact just in case.”

Chat seemed perturbed, but didn’t argue.

That may have been because he didn’t get the chance, as a sudden yelp from nearby caught Ladybug’s attention. A passerby dropped his cellphone just as the screen sparked and a figure appeared.

The akuma.

“Lady Wifi is here.” She muttered into the communicator.

That was rather fast. But at least it didn’t mean wasting more time than necessary.

It seemed she didn’t need to go to the TVi Station after all.

“Hang on! I’m on my way!” Chat’s voice exclaimed before the call ended.

However startled Ladybug was by her sudden appearance, the akuma even seemed just as surprised at seeing her there.

“Ladybug?!” She gasped out. But her eyes narrowed. “No. I don’t know how you found me, but you are not getting in my way!”

Wait. Found her? But she hadn’t even started looking for her yet!

There was no time to question it, however, as Lady Wifi proceeded to go on the offensive. Ladybug ducked out of the way just in time to avoid the multiple symbols being flung at her from the akuma’s phone.

She flipped backwards and landed on the lower roof behind her, breaking line of sight with her enemy. Taking advantage of the moment, she then jumped from to a ridge on an adjoining building where she would have cover and not be easily viewed from above. Glancing up, she frowned when she noticed that she could not see her foe. It was like she had disappeared.

Or...had she simply left altogether once Ladybug was out of sight?

Strange, shouldn’t Lady Wifi be looking for her? They had only just crossed paths. Normally, akumas would attempt to continue pursuit.

She jumped down to street level and kept looking around, warily. Perhaps the akuma had gone into one of the buildings?

There was a sudden outburst of screams from a nearby store as several civilians ran out of the building. She rushed over and noticed that...yes, it was a phone store. And sure enough, the akuma was inside and the cause of the scare that drove all potential customers away. Without hesitating, she ran inside to continue the fight.

Lady Wifi growled in frustration at her appearance and sent more attacks at her. Ladybug dodged them easily enough, but to her surprise, Lady Wifi simply took off shortly afterwards, rushing out the back and out of the building altogether. Her attempt to follow only drew her further into the busier part of the city. And soon enough, she had again lost her target.

Until there was another flash followed by a shriek from a nearby civilian who had been hiding from the chaos. Sure enough, Lady Wifi was once again present, only looking all the more agitated once she appeared and saw Ladybug already there.

“How do you keep finding me?“ She demanded as she swiped at her phone again.

Ladybug didn’t bother to respond as she simply ducked, dodged, and jumped out of the way.

But the angry accusation kept ringing in her head. Because the truth was that she didn’t know. Really, she had thought it was the other way around. Why would Lady Wifi leave just to keep coming back? It wasn’t even a fighting tactic as she wasn’t utilizing any element of surprise it could grant her.

A purple glow appeared over the akuma’s face. No doubt Hawk Moth was trying to give her orders.

But...Lady Wifi just blew him off?

“No! I’ll get you your stupid jewelry, but right now, I need to keep looking while I still can!”

Looking? For what?

The glow only increased in response. The akuma seemed to shudder under an unknown force.

“All right. Just to get her out of the way.” She agreed before switching symbols on her cell and sending them flying at Ladybug.

Unimpressed, she prepared to move. If she jumped, she could go over the symbol and even Lady Wifi herself. She was close enough that she could land behind her and then try to take her out. Just keep her yoyo at the ready to tie her up and—

“Look out!”

Something slammed into her from the side, sending her and whatever the force was rolling towards a nearby truck. There was at least partial cover between them and the akuma now, but it ruined her plan and now she was on the defensive.

Who?

She looked over to see...sure enough, Chat Noir had interfered.

“Are you blind?!” She hissed, pulling him fully behind the cover.

“She was attacking you! I was just trying to help!” He said, defensively.

“You can help by not getting in the way.”

His ears lowered. He looked genuinely hurt. “Sorry…”

“Look, let’s just get this over with. I’ve been stuck playing ‘Hide and Seek’ with this akuma and I’m tired of it.” She pulled out her yoyo. “We’ll split up and come at her from both sides. Then I’ll tie her down and you can break her phone. Ready?”

There was a pause.

But he didn’t move.

She raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

He simpered, gesturing pathetically at her yoyo. “Uh, aren’t you going to use your Lucky Charm?”

DONOT

She gave him an incredulous look.

“Why would I do that?” Really, the Lucky Charm was useless and a waste of her energy. It only served to force her out of the fight sooner.

“Well—” He stammered. “I mean—you usually—it’s always…” He seemed to realize it was a stupid question and looked away. Whether in understanding or embarrassment, she didn’t particularly know.

“Just go already.”

Honestly, the flinch was unnecessary. It wasn’t like she’d struck him.

She wasted no more time worrying about her partner and whatever his latest antics were. Instead, she put her focus back on the akuma where it should be.

It wasn’t a very complicated plan. And it didn’t need to be. They had fought this akuma before. It wasn’t like it was that hard. With Chat charging from the front and taking her attention, Ladybug leapt out from the other side and had Lady Wifi trapped in her yoyo wire, forcing her arms to her side and sending her cellphone clattering to the ground.

For all the trouble and annoyance, the fight was over disappointingly quick.

Within seconds, the phone was broken and the akuma released. A simple flick of her wrist and the butterfly was purified and sent on its way. And soon enough, Lady Wifi was a normal human teenager once more. Ladybug sighed in relief that the latest upset was dealt with at least.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

The Cure did its work per the usual. But something seemed off. And there was a small amount of the ladybugs that seemed to hover around her before she waved them away. Honestly, she shouldn’t have to keep doing this every time.

Taking no notice of her state, Chat bounded up to her, fist out.

“Pound—”

Except Ladybug had already turned away, leaving Chat feeling put off and especially alone.

“...it?”

He frowned, uncertain.

“Uh...Ladybug? Is everything okay?”

No. She was lost and confused and that strange man’s words wouldn’t leave her mind.

She had no home. Nowhere to go.

So why did she feel she was supposed to be somewhere? And ‘where’ was she supposed to be?

“I’m fine.” She told him as she turned and walked away.

She was fine.

_______________________

He ran down the street, cursing himself the entire time. He should’ve known something would happen! Alya had clearly already been upset. While he had talked to her about not confronting Lila, he knew very well how Olea was and that there was only so much she could hold back if directly confronted.

Alya had been the one to text him to warn him to look out for Adrien. His focus has been on finding his friend at that time, that he had completely neglected to consider how she would even know about the situation or what her knowing had to mean.

If he had been there, he could have backed up Alya. Been a witness to counter Lila’s lies about being attacked—if a single slap she more than deserved could even count as that.

No! No. Not the time! Alya now. Deal with Lila later.

Because of that, Alya had been suspended. Her parents had no doubt been given the wrong version of events by the school thanks to Lila, and probably grounded her on top of that. Right now, Nino must have been the only one Alya knew was on her side. She wouldn’t know that Adrien knew the truth or that he would even speak up in her defense. She only knew she was alone and everyone was against her.

And now Lady Wifi was back. And while he knew that Lila was responsible, he could not help but blame himself for failing to be there for her.

That was why as soon as he got Kim’s message, he had taken off for where the alert said Lady Wifi was attacking. Maybe he could calm her down? Or at least be there for her once it was over.

Because surely the heroes would be fixing all of this soon enough.

It was the Ladybugs that led him to her. A small group that seemed...a bit detached from the rest. Following them, he found the aftermath of the battle. Both Ladybug and Chat Noir were moving away, leaving Alya just...sitting there on the sidewalk.

Wait. What?

Didn’t they normally talk to or try to comfort the akuma victims?

Glancing over, however, he noted that both appeared to be rather tense. And Chat in particular seemed worried. He didn’t know why. They were a distance away and quiet enough that he couldn’t hear. But neither seemed happy. Maybe the fight was harder on them than it seemed?

His focus, however, went to Alya. She seemed almost out of it by the time he reached her.

But when he called out her name, her eyes met his immediately. And her face crumpled into a sob.

“Nino!”

He was there by her in an instant, holding her as tightly as he could and whispering reassurances.

He’d lost one friend.

He didn’t want to lose her, too.

_______________________

Alya didn’t know what happened when she was an akuma. Nobody ever really remembers, after all.

But she knew...she’d been looking for something.

Desperately trying to find something.

And she half believed that something was her best friend.

She hoped, at any rate.

It was dark out by the time the fight was over, and Nino was walking her home. He promised that he would also talk with her parents to let them know what’s going on with Lila and that she was lying about everything. Neither of them knew just how much good it would do since it was their word against Lila’s, and anything he tried to say might just be construed as solely a defense due to being Alya’s boyfriend. But it was something and it was certainly more than she’d had when she was on trial at the school.

But…

The worst of it all as that her thoughts kept going back to Lila and those damn words.

“Don’t blame me just because you’re a bad friend. Honestly, it’s no wonder Marinette chose to run away.”

Maybe...maybe Lila was right?

Maybe she did run away?

…

…

...

No.

She took a breath and forced herself to focus.

Facts, Alya. Think about the facts. She had made enough poor decisions without bothering to get information. Now was the time to not repeat those mistakes. The first thing to do was look at the facts of what she knew.

Fact: Marinette was her friend. Even at times when Alya wasn’t the best friend to her in return, Marinette still cared. This was clear in the way that Marinette still tried for her—continuing to try to warn her or look out for her and yet going along with her even after the way Alya acted.

Fact: Marinette was stubborn to a fault. If she knew there was something she could do about a problem, she would keep trying. And it would take something pretty severe for her to give up.

Fact: Despite how strained their relationship had become, things had not become so broken that they would stop being friends. That tension was nowhere close to being severe enough for Marinette to give up.

Fact: Marinette was not one to seek attention. She never needed to. She never did anything to intentionally draw attention to herself and if anything, had willingly given up chances to get attention if it meant helping or supporting someone else.

Fact: Even if Marinette was having trouble in the class, she still had support. And more importantly, she had her family. She would never allow her parents to be hurt because of her.

With these facts in mind, Alya knew with some certainty that Marinette would not run away.

She just had to hold onto that.

“Marinette wouldn’t have done it.”

Nino started at that. “What?”

She turned to him, looking tired and weary, but so very certain.

She looked up at Nino, resolutely. “We made the mistake of not believing in Marinette before. We didn’t trust her when we should have. But just because we didn’t believe in her doesn’t mean she ever gave up on us.”

Alya smiled. “That’s just the kind of person Marinette is.

She rested her head on his shoulder.

“That was why she was our Everyday Ladybug. Because big or small, no matter the problem, she was there. Trying for us.”

She wouldn’t just leave.

Alya couldn’t expect Marinette to always be there. That wasn’t fair to her. To be required to keep trying despite the futility of it all was a burden that no one should ever be expected to continue to carry, especially if it was only hurting her. She knew that eventually even Marinette, as kind as she was, could have enough of the strain and move on. But she also knew that in her kindness, Marinette would never just disappear without a word.

She would never leave without saying goodbye.

“That’s why I know she didn’t run away.”

Because Marinette hadn’t said goodbye.

Nino took a breath, hesitating.

“You know that means that...something...probably happened to her.”

Alya nodded, barely holding back the tears as that horrible truth fully presented itself.

“I know.”

[kpopchangedmylife44]

Reaction: Ateez cheat on their partner and they will be forgiven

A/N: this was requested and I was struggling a little to write it as I couldn’t imagine them ever cheating on their partner. But cheating can come in many ways, so I tried to give a variety of methods and reasons. The forgiving part was also quite difficult, as you really need to understand the other person and their reasons to move on or ,,repair“ the relationship.

Genre: fluff, angst (heartbreak, break up, mental health, idk it’s just sad at times)

I hope you enjoy it regardless! 😂

Hongjoong

- you were together for 2 years and you always struggled with communication

- as he was so busy at tour you tried to call him, but often times it didn’t work out

- one day you were taking his laptop cause yours broke down

- while searching for the pictures of your weekend trip, you found another file of pictures with him and some other woman

- before freaking out, you needed to see what this was all about

- but it become quite clear when you saw all these kisses and hugs and other romantic stuff

- of course it hurt you, but for some reason you were not that surprised

- he saw you staring at one picture and became speechless

- his face was in disbelief and you recognized in that moment that both of you did put minimal effort into the relationship and weren’t happy anymore

- ,,Hongjoong, we need to talk about this. We have always had our problems and I see how you already moved on. I feel like we both screwed up by taking everything for granted and not making the effort and I do love you, but this is not enough.“

- there was no resentment towards him and he was shocked for some time, staring blankly at you

- then he nodded as he thought more about your words

- ,,I‘m truly sorry y/n. Things were always so difficult between us and it never came easy. With her I feel like everything fall into place but I should have told you earlier. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I guess I failed.“

- he invited you on a walk through town, while you talked about all the good and bad things of your relationship

- when you parted ways there were no hard feelings and you felt really light for the first time in years

Seonghwa

- you and Seonghwa were a great team, always supporting each other

- before dating, you would consider each other best friends

- you both had feelings for the other one, so you gave it a shoot

- altough your relationship didn’t change that much, some things became pretty awkward (in the bedroom)

- you just didn’t click in this part of the relationship and you were both too embarrassed and confused to talk about it

- because of this situation there was a lack of all things skinship

- so you were basically like friends once again as neither of you felt particularly attracted to the other one

- when he went on tour he felt loved for the first time in ages during a performance

- a lot of his fans would do anything to be in your spot and he was aware of this

- so he did something that he has never done before - he took advantage of his position as a famous singer to make himself feel better

- and for a short amount of time it actually helped

- but after he returned home a week later, he confessed everything to you

,,Oh god, y/n. I did something terrible on tour and I don’t know if you will ever forgive me for that.“

- he started freaking out and you were the one judging him now until he said what you recognized a couple months ago

- you were not angry at him (and everyone should be in this situation), so you knew that something wasn’t adding up

,,I don’t want to give a reason for my behavior, but I haven’t felt loved for a very long time now and I think you feel the same. I didn’t do it to hurt you, but what’s the point of being in a relationship, if we can’t make each other happy.“

- his words came out so fast, he was almost rapping, so you stopped him by saying something unexpected

,,You’re right, Seonghwa. And the strangest thing is that I’m not even angry at you. It feels like we’re not even in a relationship. It has been like this for too long and it needs to stop. I love you, but we’re just better off as friends.“

- he was stunned for some time, before he lifted you up in a hug, repeating how sorry he is and that both of you should have been more honest with each other

- you relax afterwards and watch some stupid shows afterwards and it feels really natural

- some people are meant to be friends and nothing more

Yunho

- he thought that he found the love of his life at a very young age with his childhood friend

- they were always together and over the years they developed feelings for each other

- 3 years into the relationship Yunhos partner moved away and left him heartbroken

- he always thought that they could find each other one day, but he found you in the meantime

- you were really happy, but you got the feeling that something was missing

- one day Yunho walked down to his apartment and there she was - his first love

- you watched the way Yunho looked at her and how she looked at him, they both met in a hug and before he could do anything she gave him a short kiss, which he didn’t reject until moments later

- when he recognized that you were standing nearby, he felt so guilty and both of you went into his apartment to talk things out

- of course you were heartbroken, but deep down you always knew that you were not meant to be together, at least not for your whole life

- at this point Yunho started crying and apologized for everything, but you interrupted him

- ,,The way you looked at it each other... it’s just I can’t blame you for finding your soulmate. You always talked about her and now I get it. I love you so much and I hope you will become happy with her, altough I wish it could be me.“

- Yunho was stunned, wanting to say a thousand things at once, but he couldn’t

- he started to cry again, while smiling bitterly and wrapped you into a hug

- ,,I‘m so sorry y/n. I want you to know that I do love you, but it’s just...“

- you nodded, because you understood

- his whole face was in pain when he looked at you, guilt washed over his facial features

- but he also didn’t try to get your relationship back together

- sometimes people are just not meant to be with each other

- years later he invited you to his wedding and his baby shower and you knew that it had been the right decision to let him go

Yeosang

- you were dating him for almost 3 years and were really happy except for one important thing

- you shared some interests and always had fun together, but you felt like you were not on the same page when you both started to talk about important topics like the future

- it was actually really hard to talk to him at times and you often fought about little things

- both of you never really opened up to each other and just bottled up your feelings this way

- one day you came to your favorite café to get drinks just to see Yeosang with another woman

- he didn’t see you so you decided to listen to his conversation

- he was deeply engaged into the conversation, talking about all of the topics you both ignored

- and they shared their opinions or discussed them deeply, but no one got upset afterwards like you always did

- in this moment you knew that you could cheat in many ways

- Yeosang was emotionally cheating on you as he was more involved into this conversation than with you during your whole relationship

- you paid and went home and a few hours later Yeosang came by

- you cut right through the bullshit

- ,,Listen Yeosang, I saw you at our café with this woman and ...“

- he immediately shut down

,,Its not like what you think it is. We’re not together. I just talk to her.“

- ,,Because you cant talk to me in this way.“

- he was surprised you said this out loud, but he agreed

,,I feel like we never agree on anything. I can’t talk about so many things with you and same goes for you. We never get each other and it’s so hard to continue this way.“

- Yeosangs face was a mix of guilt and sadness, he could barely look at you

- ,,I know what you mean and I think we tried too much and it never worked out. I don’t blame you for finding someone you can talk to so easily. But I do love you, so I just need to know if you want to deepen this relationship.“

- he hesitated for a few seconds and altough you saw it coming, your heart broke a little since you still loved him so much

- ,,y/n, I really love you, but I‘m not sure about this either. I don’t want to hurt your feelings by saying I could picture myself with someone other than you.“

- this answer was enough for you to know

- you had a really long talk this day with Yeosang, talking about all of your feelings and topics you avoided

- everything inside you exploded (play Elliot Smith bottle up and explode) but in a good way

- you came to the realization that if you haven’t ignored the topics altogether you would have realized ages ago that you envision your life differently

- and this was not bad thing to happen, people just evolve

- so Yeosang and you parted ways, but you felt like both of you could finally become more happy

San

- before confessing his feelings for you, he was in love with you for 5 years

- your relationship was kind of perfect like people would always say how much you match

- over time San felt like he wasn’t good enough for you (altough he was, he is always enough) and he started to get really insecure, but was ashamed to talk about it

- when there was a new intern at work, he started to develop a little crush on her, but nothing serious

- but because of his growing insecurities, he felt like he could never make you stay

- as a way to cope with reality and his worries, he started to talk more with the intern and after some time they became friends

- San started to imagine what it would be like to actually date her, often times drawing her (not in a creepy way, just like an artist)

- he never made a move, as he loved you too much, but one day you saw his drawings and talked to him

- ,,What is this all about?“

- he drew out a sharp breath and tried to find the words and then he told you everything, all about his feelings

- by the way he talked about her, you felt like he was describing a fantasy person

,,San, i think youre just in love with the idea of her. As you would never make a move, you will never get hurt by her. But with us it’s different. Our relationship is real and real things can hurt. I can’t promise you that we will always stay together, but we can try to make it work.“

- he looked at you like you were the only person to ever get him completely and he felt so grateful as you continued to say

,,I don’t understand why you say all these hurtful things about you. I love you and you’re always enough. You’re more than enough. You’re full of life and love and I hope you can see this one day.“

- and by that he started crying and you started crying too, holding onto each other

- after what felt like an eternity, you settled onto the sofa, cuddled up and talking more about it

- it was still a long way to go, but you were there to go it with him

Mingi

- 6 months ago Mingi asked you to marry him and you were really excited and happy

- the planning process was time consuming and difficult as you both didn’t enjoy it as much as you hoped

- thinking about the future with you always made him feel secure and happy, but now he felt really anxious

- what if things don’t work out even with a huge ass wedding

- he always feared that you would leave him for someone else, so he tried to hold even closer to you by asking you this question (and he also really loved you and wanted to marry you)

- 3 months before the wedding his anxiety really kicked in

- every night he dreamed about you leaving him and he felt like this would happen soon

- so what was the point of holding onto you when you will break up with him in the end

- than you should better do it before the wedding

- he tried to talk to you about it, wanting to break up, but you didn’t take him seriously

- ,,Mingi, I know you’re afraid and so am I. A wedding is a huge thing, but I can certainly say that I don’t want to leave you in this life.“

- that didn’t calm him down at all, instead he got the stupid idea to give you a reason to break up with him, as he was so certain it would happen anyway

- he knew that your best friend had a little crush on him, so he went to kiss her in front of you

- everyone was silent for several minutes until you took Mingi to the room next door

- just by the look on his face you knew what this was all about

- instead of being angry, you were actually concerned about his mental health

- ,,I know why you did it and I’m sorry for not taking your worries more seriously the first time. We need to talk about it and solve the problem. Don’t forget that I love and care for you and I always will.“

- Mingi started to freak out and cry

,,How can you still say you love me when I did such a horrible thing to you?“

- he tried to look at you through tears and it broke you

- you talked a lot this day and also during therapy sessions to work things out

- and they did work in the end, when you put more effort into the relationship and supporting each other’s mental health

- and it actually helped him with his anxiety and fear of losing you

- the wedding was postponed until you felt more comfortable with it

- after 2 years you finally said yes to each other and all of his worries vanished over time as you were now married for several decades

Wooyoung

- Wooyoung and you have been dating for a year

- he hated how you got along with everyone so easily, especially with that one guy from work (aka your work husband)

- you always said that it was a platonic relationship, but he felt insecure about it and also jealous as he didn’t get to see you this much himself

- when you had a birthday party at work you showed him some picture of you and your friend in each other arms

- there was nothing happening between you and him, but Wooyoung saw things differently

- he felt like you were cheating on him, shoving this pictures into his face so you could find an easy way out of this relationship

- but that was not what you intended, but Wooyoung was so angry and not thinking straight

- he wanted to get revenge so he went to a club and flirted with everyone

- there were some inappropriate pictures leaked that night and half of the world knew about

- it didn’t fail to make you feel like shit and Wooyoung hated himself for this

- when you next met up you realized what this was all about and if he could go to this extent just because he was jealous, Wooyoung was capable of anything

- ,,I love you so much Wooyoung, but we are not good for each other. But I will forgive you one day and I hope we both can move on.“

- at this point he was having a meltdown, regretting everything that happened and you couldn’t just watch him fall apart

- altough you were both hurt, you reached out to him, holding him in a hug, while you were both falling apart

Jongho

- Jongho and you have been friends for 10 years now and it became obvious that you both liked each other in a different way

- but he was afraid of this relationship

- what if you break up and things get awkward between you, so you also lose your friendship

- he was freaking out at this thought

- both of you knew of your feelings for each other and you certainly behaved like a couple, but Jongho needed an excuse to not officially date you (so you can’t break up)

- he officially started dating some other idol so the whole world would know about it

- altough he liked her, he never thought about her in this way as he still loved you

- they were actually fake dating to prevent him from confessing his real feelings to you and screw things up and she could promote her new album successfully

- you didn’t know that they were just friends and felt a little betrayed by him

- it was as if Jongho was cheating on you even though you were not technically together, but he spend so much time away from you now, so it was like he was also neglecting your friendship

- you were really upset about it, so you needed to tell him

,,Jongho, I don’t want to sound like a shitty best friend, but we never see each other anymore and it hurts to see you with her.“

- this broke him and he realized that he was ruining everything by avoiding you, so he could feel safe

- at this point he was talking 10 words a second, while his eyes got teary

,,I can’t see you this upset, y/n. I was so scared to lose you completely, so I actually drifted us apart, but I only love you.“

- ,,Apology accepted, but don’t be such an idiot next time.“

- you needed to work on this in the future, but for now he felt relieved

- with that you gave him a quick kiss and held his hand and he smiled so brightly at you, that you forgave him for everything

- he took your hand into his while saying ,,How could I miss out on this for so long?“