#i have fully given up on passing my exam tomorrow...

[caffeine-high]

they deserve to find love (again)

[malice-death]

Murder Drones College/Human au Pt.3

The Cafe Setup/Strangers Meet.

Nathaniel enjoyed many things about his job at JcJenson’s (In Spaaace) Cafe.

He started working over two years ago, and hadn’t found any reason to leave.

Truth be told though, the cafe isn’t really on campus per-say, but since it was so close to Copper Nine University, located within the city of Copper 9, people just say it’s the campus’s cafe.

On the more important parts he worked hard to maintain a great record at his job, and he hoped to one day admit to his crush about his feelings.

Still he parked in the back, and got, while rain started to pour.

Having given his only umbrella to Cynthia, he just ran to the back door, since it lead to the locker room.

Once he inside he could hear the infamous arguing of J and V in the front, as he traded his jacket for his apron in his locker.

Walking to the front, he found J and V at their respective locations in the cafe, and hollering at each other.

Customers came and went, as they did orders, and while almost always Nathaniel ran the cash register with V.

Vanessa Cutters, was his long term childhood friend, who he had a crush on since forever, but has never done much about his feelings.

Humming along to the song that was playing, he turned his head towards V.

“Crazy weather today, am I right?”

V regarded him through squinted eyes, before shrugging.

“I guess, it didn’t really start until now though.”

Chuckling nervously Nathaniel rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah you’re right. Hey do you happen to have a spare umbrella?”

V shook her head as she prepared another order.

“No, I happen to have left my spare back at my lodgings. Have you checked with J to see if you could borrow one of her several umbrellas?”

Jessica whipped her head around at the statement, stopping her assault on the older coffee machine.

“No one has earned the right to even touch my branded umbrellas, you can just suffer in the rain N!”

With a huff she returned to trying to fix the machine. It was a good thing that had two more coffee machines.

Sighing, he hadn’t wanted to get fully soaked, but at least he knew that Cynthia wouldn’t be soaked.

“Thanks anyway guys.”

The doors open to another customer, and he continued on with his work. Chatting with V, as she ranted about the unfairness of college exams.

————————————————————————

It was only when it came time for him to head to his class that he clocked out of work.

Jessica knew he would be back tomorrow like always, and with that he left to get to his class, the only problem was that his building was a hour’s walk from the cafe, but it was still pouring like crazy.

He debated taking his car, but remembered he would need to come back for his stuff from his locker anyway.

Rubbing his chin he took care of a few more orders, with V still working on cleaning up the tables.

It was only when he was wiping down the counters when a new person walked, and it almost seemed like she changed the whole atmosphere of the cafe.

Many patrons only snuck a glance, and than resumed to what they were doing.

The stranger was shorter than him, even shorter than V, but she gave off an aura of danger.

Nathaniel didn’t feel what everyone else was feeling, instead he gave his usual smile, and greeeted her.

“Hello miss, what can I get for you today?”

The woman just shrugged, that even looking at him, as she pulled out her wallet.

“Largest size of black coffee that you have.”

Nathaniel blinked at the statement, typing in the order.

“I’ll make that a large thank you, are you sure you don’t want anything with that miss?”

The woman looked at him, dark amethyst eyes peered up at him puzzlement.

“Yes, I’m quite certain with my order.”

Nathaniel nodded, as he totaled up her order.

“Alright that will be 8.24.”

The woman just pulled out a ten, and passed it to him.

“Keep the change.”

She moved out of the way for the next customer, but J took over for him as he went to make the order.

It had been a while since he made a simple black coffee, but that gave him an idea.

Once he wa done with the order he looked to see where the woman went, only to see her typing away on a laptop at one of the further back tables.

Smiling he walked over to her, and set down the coffee.

The woman muttered a thanks and went back to typing away.

It was only when he took two steps before he heard the annoyed cough of the woman behind.

Turning aroubd to see her glaring at him.

She held up the cup as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Why did you put cinnamon in my coffee?”

Nathaniel blinked before remembering what he had done, giving her a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head.

“I had a random thought and wanted to see if it would taste good, I really hadn’t meant to put it in your coffee, but it’s what I drink sometimes when I’m studying.”

The woman frowned at the statement, taking another sip of the coffee.

Nathaniel tilted his head slightly.

“Do you like it?”

The woman shrugged, “Bite me” was all she said in response.

Nathaniel nodded, and than gestured to the window next to her.

“You wouldn’t happen to be staying for the next few hours right?”

The woman raised a single brow, but nodded.

“Yeah, just until the rain lets up, can’t really bike when it’s raining.”

Taking that as an opportunity he sat across from her.

“I’m Nathaniel by the way, but you can call me N if you need something easier to say.”

He gave her a false salute, in response though the woman just nodded, her mouth a thin line.

“I’m Uzi.”

She didn’t offer for a hand shake or anything, so he proceeded.

“I was wondering if you would allow me to use your umbrella?”

The woman, or Uzi just frowned deeper, but before Nathaniel could take back his words, she pulled out a purple umbrella with crows all over it.

She held it out to him, with a stern look.

“I’ll expect this back when the rain’s done.”

With that she placed it on his side of the table. He could sense that she was hesitant to pass the umbrella to him, but he gave her one more salute.

“I Nathaniel Sillious Wolfmoore, promise to return your umbrella the next time we meet in this cafe.”

He placed a hand over his heart to make sure that she knew how serious he was, he glanced at her to see her simply nod.

“I’ll hold you to it.” She said, a trace of a smile one her face.

He counted as a win, and rose to his feet.

“Alright, I’ll see you around Uzi.”

Uzi waved back, more confused if anything.

But with that he left, the rain still pouring endless, and it made Nathaniel glad that his and Cynthia apartment was on the second floor.

When he checked his phone for the time and saw that he was going to be close to being late he hastened his pace, making sure that the umbrella was aloft above him.

Still he’ll remember his promise.

Thank you for reading. See you in part three

[skylarmoon71]

Aaron Hotchner (Criminal Minds) Chapter 32

“Combat training?”

“Strauss has made it mandatory. You’re a consultant, but there will be times when you’d be needed in the field. “

You mean to tell him that you’re fully equipped to defend yourself. Conversations with your dad are not the only development you had. He’d advise you that with your growing powers, your body needs to be just as strong. So you’d be taking self defense in your free time.

“I understand. When will my sessions be scheduled?“

“They start tomorrow. I’ve assigned Morgan to be your supervisor. Although I was able to use someone from our unit, you’ll be given an assessment at the end of the month. If you don’t pass the director has advised that you be withheld from group travels until you complete it. “

“She’s really bringing out all the stops huh. “ Hotch nods. You had a feeling when he called you this morning it wasn’t just for friendly banter.

“I know the timing of this isn’t ideal. It’s difficult to work around the paperwork with this. “

“It’s fine Hotch. I’m not that surprised. Strauss isn’t the only one who has a few tricks. I’ll be seeing Morgan early tomorrow.”

“Yes, 8am sharp.” That gave you about two hours before a briefing with the team.

“Thank you for looking out for me sir.” He’s always been someone to look after the team.

" By the way, how is Jack? Does he love the badge I made him?”

“He does. It’s been on his desk for the past three weeks. Truthfully it’s the first toy that hasn’t been disassembled or vanished from sight.”

“I guess I should feel honored.” You laugh.

“Incredibly.”

Maybe it’s because you’d been there that you now feel protective of both Hailey and Jack.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me offering, I’d be happy to babysit Jack whenever you need.” Unlike the rest of the team, some of your hours were more lenient. So you had more off days then the rest of them. You were still very much a consultant. Hotch’s smile feels a bit contagious. He reaches out, placing his hand over yours.

“I appreciate the offer. I’ll keep that in mind.” You can’t stop the blush, or the brief skip of your heart.

“O-Of course it’s no trouble at all!” He’s still smiling as he pulls away. You sort of stumble to your feet.

“W-Well t-thank you again for the heads up.” You go shuffling out the room, and Hotch looks at the space you had previously occupied, then down at his hand.

He’s a bit curious to see how this plays out.

~Tuesday Morning, 8am~

Morgan was dressed in some comfortable clothing to begin. You were surprised that he was waiting for you when you entered the room.

“Ready to kick some butt.” He asks. You nod.

“Sir yes sir!” He laughs, laying out the instructions.

“So I’ll run through the basics. But first we need to go over strategies. In the field you’ll be faced with a lot of tough choices. You need to be able to handle all of them. “

Stretching your limbs, you nod.

“Is that why you’re recording?” You nudge your head to the cell phone.

“Strictly learning purposes. “ You chuckle.

“Of course it is.”

“Alright so first we-” you charge at him, and Morgan jumps back at the blow you swing. While he’s gathering his footing, you drop low, swiping his legs from under him. He falls back harshly on the mat with a grunt. You smile from above.

“What’s next?” Morgan just groans.

~Five Hours Later~

“Play it back, play it back!”

Garcia giggles. You run back the video, and they all wince when Morgan’s body hits the floor.

“Hah, very funny. She just caught me off guard. “

“Yeah, three times.” Prentiss teased. His need to acquire footage backfired. You forwarded the entire session to your phone to show the rest of the team.

“I don’t think they have to worry about you passing the assessment. I’m more concerned for the person who’ll be doing the exam.” Morgan waves it off.

“Count me out.” It’s possible his back was aching a little from all the falls he took. Not that he’d admit that.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” JJ questions.

“I’ve been training myself. I sort of came to the same conclusion as the department did. I do a lot of field work. Thought it was about time I learned to tango.”

“You’re really good at this tango. '' Garcia compliments.

“Actually, could you teach me how to do that lock?” Prentiss points out. She’s talking about the hold you have Morgan in on the screen.

“Sure, the key is all in the shoulders. “ Hotch has a folder in his hand, and he moves past you all.

“We have a case.” Everyone moves out, and Hotch sends you a glance.

“Good job.”

He mouths. You blush, nodding

[an-angel-in-the-garden]

hi hi~ it is I your friendly neighborhood vulture here to pick ur lovely brain ~

Ok ok so imagine slashers ( michael (ur choice of version) , asa , Billy and stu (poly) and Jesse) coming home after a long day just to tired to deal and either seeking out or allowing their s/o to comfort them ~ whether just headcanons or head cannons and ficlet I'll let u decide~

Hello my darling birdie!!! I'm so happy to see you here! Welcome to my garden hope you stay awhile just try not to pull to many flowers this time kay ^v^ And as my best vulture I did both! CW: Blood, murder in passing ,obsessives behavior ,Just the normal slasher stuff and slight NSFW, OOC slashers and Not beta read or edited

Michael the RZ version

It's been a long day first having to go shopping for the week then cleaning to get rid of all the stains still left behind meant you were tired it seemed however you weren't the only busy one. Michael had be gone since early morning a pat on the head was all you gotten before he headed out and now slightly past 1 he was back. The echo of his boot steps were purposeful as he shut the door the cling of his knife hitting the counter ever more audible before the creek of the stairs let you know what the "plan" was. It doesn't take long for him to reach the bedroom and unlike most nights where the two of you would lay down and enjoy bliss each others comfort this time it was clear another approach would have to be taken. Michael now stood at the doorway mask dyed red and breathing heavy, whatever happen was not the outcome he wanted so with slow careful steps you began step one.

Michael no matter what is not one to seek comfort or affection it is something you have to be will to initiate willing and be willing to go slow with

Bathing is a good way to make him feel relaxed and if he tired or having a bad day its what he want and its one of the few times he's quick to remove him make you touching his hair makes him very happy

After a nice bath he wants but wont say he wants cuddle's and the start of step two

Sit on his lap and just let him hold you in a soft voice talk about you day or plans for the week or just things you enjoy its a bit of domestic life that makes him warm

turn a movie on and stay close run you hands through his hair and just exists with him for a while now for the best part

Once he's calmed down two things could happen one is that he'll pull you both down to the bed curled up with you in his arms and the sound of a movie still playing in the background letting himself fully relax

Option two is less common but more enjoyable Michael will move both you and him to the table in the room covered in his craft supplies where hell being working on his paper mache mask, asking you for input or wanting you to join if you fall asleep that's fine he's more the content just having you there

Stu Matcher and Billy Loomis

Its not hard to tell when one of them is having a hard day. After a long day of classes and keeping up with everyone Billy was exhausted had told but you and Stu as much more then one and Stu wasn't much better it seemed. Any plans that had been made were canceled as you told your boys it would be a good day for a date in, some cheesy slasher flicks tons of snacks and ordering food was the new plan. Telling everyone good bye then heading back to your place the the boys are quick to make themselves at home Stu starts by ordering dinner for the three of you Billy picks out a few movies and you head to the kitchen to make the snacks. It about an hour before everything is fully ready and with the date night begins with Stu being the first to say he needs some affection after the long day. Though he doesn't say anything at first Billy is fast to act on said affection once its shown leaning over to ask for some love as well.

Its kinda hard to give them comfort together since they both need different things at first but give it some time and it tends to end with a cuddle pile

Stu prefers holding one to waist head on in your neck or on your tummy nuzzling and kiss you having you give him head pats and forehead kisses while also rubbing his back

Billy likes having you on his lap your back to his chest his head resting on yours or on your shoulder hand locked together around your waist just holding you

If they're both in need of affection and comfort its a mix of both with Stu's head on your stomach and Billy's on your shoulder Billy's holding one hand and his other is on you hip Stu is doing the same on the opposite side

Billy feeds you snacks you feed Stu and Stu throw snacks at Billy and changes the movie when needed

Cuddles last for a long time often time it end with you three falling asleep with you in the middle of the two of them

Its not hard to know when they need comfort along with the fact that Stu is open about needing it and Billy will follow his lead when he sees you dont mind

Jesse Cromeans

Jesses always enjoys having your attention even if its for something small however, when he's in need of comfort he prefers you not being around him not because he worried about things but because he's bad at asking for it so he tends to just lock him self up in work. With that its very easy to tell when he's have a bad day its getting close to him that's hard. It starts like any relaxing day a nice warm meal whether you make it yourself for him or order something he likes its a way for you to get close. Tried and angry from a day of work the only thing on Jesse's mind is getting home what he wasn't expecting was to come home to you having gotten the places cleaned up with a meal laid out in the living ready to spend time with him and well he just couldn't say no to that. Its not hard after that to get him to set work aside till tomorrow as long as its not super important and from there the rest of the night can begin.

Jesse really enjoys slow intimacy and when his days been bad and he needs to let go having you take the lead in a nice slow pace helps him let go of the chromeskull mindset whether you know about it or not

He likes to snuggle wrapped almost fully around you with you as close as possible

Kisses are a must they make him so happy many people find him scary with go reason but here you are the love of his giving him kisses as if this is a perfectly normal relationship

Like with Michael two things can happen after he relaxes and gets your affection and comfort however its based on how your feeling not him

If you keep with the soft lead it ends with you curled against his side feeding each other fresh fruit and chocolate watching movies and shows while he talks about dates he's hoping to take you on

The other option is that you head to the bedroom hell pull you on his chest arms wrapped around you hearing you talk about this and that while just ignoring the world till he falls asleep

The next day Jesse will take off work after days of needing to seek your comfort it make him acknowledge he needs a break to not burn out or not to move to fast in the work and the day will be spent with you by his side

Asa Emory

Asa has always gone by a schedule and unless it is absolutely necessary he will not deviate from it and that includes for affection and goes double for if you want to give him comfort on exhausting days. He doesn't like feeling weak and though he loves you in a twisted way you thinking he needs comfort makes him feel weak. For weeks Asa will come home tired and frustrated his class is in the mist of exams so he has tons of work and the collection isn't going well but he wont let you in on it. The best you can do for the time being is just lightly his work load at home keep things clean, make meals for him so he doesn't skip them if the dogs are at the house help take care of them and things like that its not much but he pays attention to things like that and will notice that your helping him. Seeing you working hard to help him not stress as much while still waiting for him to take the steps like usual helps him come around to the idea of letting you spoil him for a while. Once he gets to that point remember to keep things slow though rushing it after that makes him stay on edge.

For Asa slow and steady is the way to go when he's ready to let you spoil him he will tell you outright that he "requires" your attention

He wont let this happen on a weekday only a weekend where he can fully relax and rest but he leaves the rest to you and that's a big step

Setting up a nice date in is the best way to go and though he likes homemade meals on a day like this he doesn't mind ordering dinner that night

On days he can relax with you the first thing he wants to do is cook for you as odd as it might be it gives him a starting point to let you show him affection

Eating breakfast together then heading to the living room with curled up on the couch you read to him for a bit him might interject sometimes depending on what its about but he just holds you close for a while

Tacking the dogs for a walk is the next part of the day hand in hand taking a walking path and enjoy the day whether its cold or hot he likes walking time

Domestic bliss is something he adores its what he's always craved and you give him the chance to have it so often it keeps him on cloud nine

After going back home out on a documentary and snuggle up to him the dogs will be on beds near the couch and hell have you laying you head on his lap while he runs his hand along you neck and back

You'll eat later in the day and enjoy quite time he might want to rant about his class, he wants to hear about the things you've been into lately and slowly the night winds down

Given that he has no work the next day if your feeling up to it he want to end the day by embracing you its been a while and its not something he up for much but after weeks of not being around you much he craves the close touch

It might not even end with sex he just want to caress your body looking over the curves and lines feeling you fully without restrictions till your both tired and with that he pulls you close to him whispering that he's grateful for you love and thanking you for the wonderful day

Ta-da! I hope all enjoy this and a big thanks to my best birdie buddy for requesting this I had fun writing it and I hope to see here more often! To my other followers if your looking forward to the next part of My Soulmates A God then be happy its the next thing I'm working on. Have a great day and thank you for reading! - Lilly Ps you can really tell I favored Asa here huh..

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 23

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 23] || say it back

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [you always end up stickin’ to me // somehow, somehow] stuck with me x the neighbourhood

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_________________________________

Wednesday, 01 December, 7:16pm

“How’d you get in?” Y/n’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, peeking her head out and seeing that Yoongi’s almost at the top of the stairs. He’d texted her that he was here, but by the time she’d found her slippers, he was already inside Gryffindor Tower.

“Some first year let me in… I think he was scared shitless by the fact that I’m a Slytherin and on the brink of death.” He’s not wrong -- the closer Yoongi gets to her door, the more she can tell how out of it he is. He looks pale, dark circles sitting under his eyes like bruises. Dragging his feet, he’s holding back a yawn as he finally comes to a stop in front of her.

“You studied hard today.” It’s a simple observation, made mostly on the basis of how heavy his bag looks, filled with textbooks and notes he’d probably had to beg Jin for. Yoongi only nods, finally letting out the yawn he’s been fighting.

“Who knew you actually had to do work in order to pass your classes?” He gets like this every finals season, cramming and pulling all-nighters to make up for his absolute hatred of consistent studying. Y/n had long stopped scolding him for it, only leaving him to sleep undisturbed for the first few days of winter break once all the exams were over.

With a smile of comfort, Y/n reaches for him, taking one of his hands in both of hers and pulling him with her into her room. Before he can step fully inside, however, he’s putting his other hand on the door frame to stop himself, shaking his head. She shoots him a look of confusion.

“You’re not coming in?”

He shakes his head again, stepping back to stand safely outside in the little corridor. Y/n moves toward him, confusion written all over her face. Yoongi grins fondly at her.

“It’s better if I don’t.” Y/n knows what he’s trying to say -- that he’ll only distract her from studying and would rather leave her to do her work in peace. She appreciates how considerate he’s being, but it doesn’t mean she’s not a little disgruntled.

“But you came in last night.”

“Yeah, I did. And this morning you were scrambling to do last minute review.”

“I would have done that whether or not you’d stayed.” She’s lying, and they both know it. Yoongi’s well-aware of Y/n’s meticulously planned study schedule. He knows how flustered she gets when she doesn’t stick to it, but he’d been unable to resist her invitation to stay the night after a whole day of cramming for his own exams. He’d missed her so much yesterday -- just as much as the day before and just as much as today -- so he’d given in, thinking of nothing but being able to hold her while he slept.

But when he’d seen how crazed she’d been this morning, pacing her room frantically while she’d tried to absorb the information in her notes, he couldn’t help but feel guilty that she’d stopped studying last night to come to bed. So he’d spent the day building his mental strength, reminding himself again and again that he couldn’t say yes to her tonight. No matter how much he wants to.

“I promised myself I’d let you study.”

Y/n pouts when he says it, and it takes all of Yoongi’s self-control not to step into her room and agree to stay the night again, if only to put a smile on her face.

“But I finished all the important finals today. Yesterday was my Herbology thing, and today I had Transfiguration, and those were the hardest ones. I just have Potions tomorrow, which won’t be too bad -- and we have Charms on Friday, so we have to study for it together, anyway!” She’s searching for excuses at this point -- they’d already agreed to study for Charms tomorrow night, so there’s no reason Yoongi won’t see right through her flimsy arguments. But she can’t help wanting to keep him here.

Even though she’d admittedly been a bit stressed this morning about her exam, all day she’d only regretted not being able to stay in bed with him longer. He’d looked so pretty sleeping peacefully in her bed and equally pretty when he’d woken up confused and frazzled that she was across the room instead of next to him. If she’s honest, he’s all she’s thought about today.

Yoongi tilts his head and eyes her while she tries to come up with a reason for him to stay, his chest swelling in endearment.

“The last two days, you were totally fine and I was the mess -- what’s up with you? Did you miss me or something?”

She nods right away, not even bothering to hide it anymore.

“Yeah, I did -- so you should stay.” She feels her face warm when Yoongi snickers, clearly amused by how forward she’s being.

“You know I can’t — but I’ll stay tomorrow night when we study. How’s that?”

Y/n sighs, nodding because she knows he’s right, that she won’t finish studying tonight if he walks through that door. But then she shoots him a look, because he’d walked all the way up the stairs from the library to her room just to not stay, and Min Yoongi is fundamentally opposed to unnecessary physical exercise.

“Why’d you come all the way up here, then? Just to say hi?”

Yoongi snorts, nodding as he steps in close to her.

“To say hi… and to get this.” Leaning in, he sets his lips on hers, inhaling deeply because he’d really needed this today. When she snakes her arms up and around his neck, he smiles, only angling his head to fit his mouth against hers more comfortably.

It takes him a minute, but he finally pulls away, only going so far that his lips are still brushing against hers when he speaks to her, almost breathless.

“Yeah… that’s definitely what I came up here for…”

Y/n smiles, rolling her eyes fondly at him.

“You walked up all those stairs for a kiss?”

“It was one hell of a kiss — I feel like I can keep studying now.” Yoongi can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes his chest when she leans her head forward on his shoulder and sighs, a quiet giggle slipping out.

“You’re an idiot.” He’s heard that line a million times, more often in the months they’d been pretending to date. But it warms him every time, because he knows she only says it when he’s making her smile against her will. When she can’t help but adore him. He’s quite fond of those three words, if he’s honest.

“I should go… you have to finish studying and get some sleep.”

Y/n lifts her head, frowning slightly. Yoongi leans in quickly, catching her lips just as she’s parting them to complain again. He kisses her once, and then again when she still looks like she has something to say. She opens her mouth one more time, but he can see that she wants to smile, so he knows she’s only pretending so she can get another kiss out of him. He gives her one anyway.

And then he steps back, prying her arms gently from around his neck and putting some distance between them — he can feel his willpower slipping away and he knows he needs to leave now before he ends up not leaving at all.

“I love you.” It comes out with the same tone he’d use to say goodbye, because he’s already backing away toward the stairs, but he’s waiting for a response before he fully turns and leaves. Y/n only leans against her door frame, watching him, so he stops. He refuses to leave until she repeats it back to him, something she’s clearly aware of, if the smirk on her face is anything to go by.

“Say it back, asshole.” He sounds so affronted that she can’t help but throw her head back and laugh, entirely amused by him. When she looks at him again, she sees that he’s feeling the exact opposite, a deadpan expression on his face while he waits.

She opens her mouth to echo the words back to him, because she’s not so terrible as to leave him hanging forever, but then she’s pausing. Because Hoseok’s words from Monday night are suddenly flashing through her mind.

Maybe you’re… actually attracted to him?

Y/n looks Yoongi over, taking in everything about him all at once — the way he’s standing, running his fingers through his hair while he shifts his weight back and forth on his legs. The way he runs two fingers over his collarbones, which he only does when he feels awkward. The way she can see the black ink of her name peeking through the white fabric of his uniform. The way his lips are just swollen enough from kissing her that she feels proud to have been the one to do that to him.

The way he’s looking at her right now, eyes full of bemusement because he’s wondering what she’s thinking about. He’s waiting patiently, because he really isn’t going to leave until she says it back to him. He never does. Just like he’s never left anything unfinished between them, always making certain, even if nothing else in their lives is going right, that at least they’re doing okay.

So, while she’s not quite sure what the difference between adoration and attraction is when it comes to Min Yoongi — while she’s not sure about Hobi’s speculation, that what she’s feeling is anything more than just the affection she’s always had for this boy in front of her — she is sure of one thing.

“Yeah… I love you, too…”

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

[drwcn]

concubine/sleeper agent!wwx and prince!lwj bullshit continues: 

[story board 1] -  The two empires and the Imperial Lan Family [story board 2] -  WWX, Qishan Wen’s sleeper agent   [story board 3] -  The inner court (harem) of Hanguang Manor, prior to WWX

→ [Story Board 4] - “A-Xian”, the attendant of Jiang Yanli 

Wei Wuxian lived with the Jiangs for 2 years. After he came to Gusu as a 16-yro, he charmed/scammed his way into the Jiang manor, won the favour of Jiang Fengmian, the affection of Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, and waited.  For a long time, no further instructions were given to him from Wen Ruohan. Then, one day, he saw Zhao Zhuliu on the streets of the Capital. Zhao Zhuliu was the head of Wen Ruohan’s intelligence bureau and incidentally, was also Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang’s shifu.  

— “Shifu, does bixia finally have an assignment for me?”  — “He does. Jiang Yanli is set to marry Lan Wangji. You are to find a way to accompany her to Hanguang-fu and get close to him.”  — “Close to him as in...?”  — “Any means necessary. He has a harem already, so you will not be the only one vying for his attention. Do think you can handle it?”  — “Well I don’t know, shifu,” responded WWX coyly. “ Word on the street is that this Hanguang-wang prefers pretty men. His ce-wangfu Jin Ziyan is famous for his handsomeness, and that mianshou Mo Xuanyu he keeps around is a looker too. Do you think I’ve grown pretty enough?” — “You seem very aware of his household, I’m surprised.”  — “Bixia sent me here to observe and learn; I’ve not been idle.”  

Wei Wuxian knew Jiang Yanli was set to marry Lan Wangji before she even knew herself. This was not a coincidence. Originally, three years ago, when Lan Wangji was first choosing members of his harem, Jiang Yanli had been considered, but at the time Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan were already engaged to be wed. Jin Zixuan had promised Jiang Yanli that as soon as he passed the imperial scholarly exam and secured a position for himself in His Majesty’s court based on his own merit and not on the influence of his father Jin-guogong (Duke Jin), that he and Yanli would marry. It was a marriage that his late mother had arranged with her best friend Yu Ziyuan, and both Yanli and Zixuan were amenable to it. However, when Jin Zixuan finally passed the exam and ranked 6th in the national polling, he chose to take a position far away from the capital and left without a word of affirmation regarding the engagement. The position was an important one given to Jin Zixuan by Emperor Lan Xichen himself and so in some ways, it was understandable that he could not refused. After Jin Zixuan left the capital, Jin Guangshan went to his “old friend” Jiang Fengmian and “apologized” profusely on his son’s behalf, spewing all sorts of words about how a young man ought to make his way in this world and such. However, this left the Jiangs in an awkward position. Jiang Yanli was 21 yrs old, already older than any unwed noble lady should be. The Jiangs were angry with this outcome, but given the politics of it, they could not say much...and that was when Lianfang-jun Meng Yao revisited an idea that had been put aside three years ago. — “Hanguang-wang...desires to marry A-Li?” Jiang Fengmian was somewhat flabbergasted. “But...” — Meng Yao smiled, “Jiang-houye*, three years ago I came on behalf of er-di to broker a marriage between our two families, but you and Yu-furen both refused on account of her engagement with Jin-xiao-gongye. But I must say ling’ai* is a fine young woman, eloquent and mild-mannered and would make a fine wangfei* some day.” — “Wangfei? but -” — “Yes, Hanguang-wang did say he would choose his own princess or prince consort, but as you can see, even with Jin Ziyan as he ce-wangfu, Qin-fu’ren and Luo-fu’ren at his side, our prince has not shown any desire for any of them to be his legal spouse. He is still waiting, searching, and who’s to say Jiang-gu’niang is not equal if not better than the lot of them?” 

What the Jiangs didn’t know was that Jin Guangshan was a traitor and had already sold his loyalty to Wen Ruohan, who promised him to make him a fanwang* when Qishan eventually annexed Gusu. JGS was a mole inside Gusu’s government secretly helping to further Wen Ruohan’s agenda. Nevertheless, Wen Ruohan wanted Wei Wuxian to get close to Lan Wangji, because as helpful as Jin Guangshan was, he was never fully trusted by the royal family and did not know their inner workings. Breaking Jiang Yanli’s marriage with Jin Zixuan was just a matter of convenience. Jin Guangshan was not fussed regarding a simple marriage when the reward would be much greater. As per WRH’s instruction, he used his influences in court to maneuver Lan Xichen into giving Jin Zixuan a position far away from the capital, thus removing his son from the dangerous political atmosphere and freeing up Jiang Yanli as a potential concubine for Lan Wangji. Then, Jin Guangshan sat back and allowed Meng Yao to finish the game that he started. Meng Yao was not a willing participant. He loved Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue but Jin Guangshan held the secret to his past and thus a noose around his neck. Everyone in court knew that Lianfang-jun Meng Yao was once a lieutenant in Nie Mingjue’s army and later became his personal secretary. He was known for his wit and silver tongue and the charming dimples on his cheeks whenever he smiled. However, not many knew that Meng Yao was the bastard son of Jin Guangshan and a prostitute. Meng Shi’s hope was that one day her son would be legitimized by his father, but alas her hopes were in vain. A child born to a whore would be condemned to a live in the “jian” caste unless otherwise freed. It was Nie Mingjue who chose to raise Meng Yao above his station and respected him as a person for the first time in his life. When Nie Mingjue and his long-time sweetheart the crown prince Lan Xichen were set to marry, Meng Yao thought his days of freedom would be over. To his surprise, Nie Mingjue opted to bring him back with him from the borderlands where Nie Mingjue’s battalion was stationed and introduce him to court and to Lan Xichen. It seemed almost impossible that Lan Xichen would love him as unapologetically as Nie Mingjue, but somehow he did. Meng Yao became the only concubine person in Lan Xichen’s harem other than Fengjun Nie Mingjue. Life was perfect, so perfect in fact Meng Yao even entertained the idea of coaxing Lan Xichen to take on a lady or two to be his concubine so that the palace could be filled with little ones. Of course he’d be a little jealous...but they would have children...and Lan Xichen loved babies.  Then of course, Jin Guangshan found out who he was, and from that point on, Meng Yao was no longer a free man. Every single moment of his life, his father threatened him with exposure. If anyone were to find out just how unseemly his origin had been, how not only was his mother a prostitute, but he himself had been nearly no different (given to the Nies as a gift by a stupid pandering official), his life would be over. At the very least Lan Xichen would be forced to banish him, at the worst, he’d be dead. Oh there would be no public announcement of course, but it would be said that he had taken ill and succumbed to his frail health, and with his death the smear on the Lan imperial family would be cleansed.  Meng Yao didn’t want to die, so he did as Jin Guangshan asked, even when the ask became Nie Mingjue’s life. (But NMJ isn’t really dead...Meng Yao was nothing if not a fighter. He could not let the father who’d cursed him to a less than hellish existence take away from him the first man who’d ever shown him love and kindness.)   — “Jiang Yanli must marry Lan Wangji.” Jin Guangshan instructed. “And you must ensure that when she does, the boy goes with her.”   — “What boy?”  — “The ward of Jiang Fengmian: Wei Wuxian.” 

So when Meng Yao came to speak with Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan, naturally he brought up the subject of Lan Wangji’s “preference.”  “The Qin family did very well in this regard. They were quite clever in allowing Mo Xuanyu to serve Hanguang-wang; the boy is too low-born to be of any threat. Even if Hanguang-wang’s harem of today becomes the imperial harem of tomorrow, Mo Xuanyu would not be more than a mianshou. His success, on the other hand, would ensure that Hanguang-wang’s favour stay with the Qin family. As we can see, their effort was not in vain. Qin Su became with child rather swiftly. Little Kaisong was born more no later than three months after Jingyi.” Meng Yao explained the delicate nature of the situation to the Jiangs. “If Jiang-guniang is to marry Hanguang-wang, forgive me for my boldness, but she would be wise to bring a male attendant of her own. Wangji is kind and would honour her as his concubine, but the man cannot control his inclinations, as none of us could.”  Yu Ziyuan exchanged a look with Jiang Fengmian. Yanli was older now; waiting for Jin Zixuan to keep his promise had delayed her and possibly ruined her prospects. If this marriage to Lan Wangji were to succeed... he is an honourable man who treated all his concubines equally and with respect. If he grew to like Yanli enough to make her his legal spouse as Meng Yao seemed to think is possible...then one day she would be Empress.  — “Hanguang-wang’s preference is men. Would he not prefer to have a wangfu instead of a wangfei?” Jiang Fengmian was still hesitant.  — “Indeed I’m sure he would, but politics being what it is...” Meng Yao sighed. “I’m sure Wangji understands that having the mother of his heir be his wangfei and his future empress is the best course of action to ensure the stability of the nation. We certainly have no shortage of examples to learn from in history: a shuchu prince with competing shuchu brothers walks a perilous road.”  — “Lianfang-jun is wise.” Yu Ziyuan nudged her husband. “Which young man do you suggest we include in the bridal party?”  — “That I have not decided, which is why I’ve come to see you today. Jiang-fu is a large manor, surely there must be some servants worthy to catch the eye of our Hanguang-wang. Yu-fu’ren, why don’t you assemble them, and we can have a pick?”  — “Lianfang-jun, that is a delightful idea.” 

Wei Wuxian was not surprised at all when all the young men of Jiang-fu under 21 and above 16 were assembled in a courtyard. He scanned the crowd; there were about 20-ish of them. One by one, they were beckoned forward, and when it was his turn, he walked with his head bowed towards the man sitting under the eave on a luxurious wicker chair, holding a fan. The fan was very expensive, drawn by an artist in the previous dynasty. An antique. This must be Zewu-di’s* only concubine, Meng Yao.  — “Greetings to Lianfang-jun.”  — “Raise your head, boy, let me take a good look at you.”  — Wei Wuxian obeyed. Meng Yao looked him over once, appraising and evaluating, before making a pleased little noise. “Hm. Your name?” —  “Wei Wuxian.”  —  “Wei...Wuxian?” Meng Yao gave a pretty laugh. “A rather boastful name for so young a person. My, but you are a lovely thing. Tell me, what is your age?”  —  “Eighteen.”   —  “Eighteen, excellent. It’s unfortunate that your name isn’t something a little more humble. What does your family call you?” —  “My family calls me A-Xian, dianxia.” — “Well A-Xian, if I were to tell you that you’ve been chosen to accompany Jiang-gu’niang to serve Hanguang-wang, what say you?”  — WWX thought *I’d say Lan Wangji better sleep with one eye open*, but said with a gracious and deferring bow of his head, “That would be my honour.” 

[next]

Note: 

houye - marquess ling’ai - a formal way to address someone else’s daughter  wangfei - princess consort  fanwang - a type of high-ranking prince with their own region/land to govern and possibly even their own army to command under imperial rule.  Zewu-di - emperor zewu. 

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Under My Skin: Chapter 1

Series masterlist

Word count = 4,6 k

Chapter Warnings = swearing, canon-typical violence, bad writing

Summary = You hate Poe Dameron. Simple, right?

Edit = Cross posted to AO3

Part 1 of 4 (I think)

Poe Dameron didn’t like you and you didn’t like Poe Dameron.

“Because!” You grouse to Rose as you make your way to the cantina, “he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else, no one could ever come close to his skills, and he always gets the best missions, and he’s good, but he’s not that good, he acts like he’s god's gift to women - no scratch that - to the galaxy, and he’s so arrogant!” You’re growling in frustration as you round the corner, suddenly lowering your voice as much as you can because Dameron is right there at the end of the corridor, deep in discussion with General Organa and Finn.

Rose’s only response is to whack you over the head as she walks through the swinging doors in the centre of the corridor. You’ve never been so glad you don’t have to walk past Dameron in your life. “What was that about?” You hiss as you catch up with Rose, grabbing your own tray and helping yourself to dinner. “You didn’t have to hit me in front of General Organa.” Rose snorts. “Yeah the General was the one you were worried about.”

Trays full, the two of you spot an empty booth and hurry towards it, sitting opposite each other. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You won’t shut up about Poe.” She jabs her fork at you, causing bits of potato to fall to the table. You can only gape, words escaping you momentarily.

Momentarily.

“What! I won’t - Dameron - he - he and I - urgh! - never in my life - he’s annoying!” You settle on finally, fully aware that you’re now whining. “He frustrates me!”

Rose raises an eyebrow, “Well maybe you need to work out those frustrations.” You shake your head, deciding to ignore her for now as you concentrate on eating. “You do need to get laid.”

You yelp, coughing when you try to swallow too quickly in shock. And then- “I can help with that, sweetheart.” You whip round, eyes narrowing when Dameron’s behind you, his flight suit tied around his waist, exposing his dirty vest and irritatingly strong arms. The only person who can beat him in arm wrestling is Finn - you can no longer count the amount of times he’s beaten you.

You take another scoop of dinner before talking with a full mouth. “Ok, one, I’m not your sweetheart, and two, Rose is wrong, and even if she was right, I definitely don’t need your help with-” you pause, swallow, and gesture vaguely in his general direction. “That.”

This, annoyingly, only seems to make him grin more. “That? You’re not gonna call it what it is?” You lean back, pulling your most unimpressed look onto your face, as he continues, still smirking, even having the audacity to wink at you. “Hot, animal sex.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, turning back to your dinner. “Whatever you say, Dameron.”

“Does it make you feel better, being mean to me?” Dameron asks as he squeezes onto the small piece of bench next to you. You huff, moving up so that you’re not touching. You don’t like him, but you’re not rude. 

Ignoring his question, you deflect. “Where’s Finn? Don’t you want to sit with him?” It takes more effort than it should to sound like you’re asking out of interest, and not because you want him to go away. Which you do.

“He’s still talking to Leia.” Your eyes flick to Rose, and she knows what you’re thinking. You twist your body to face Dameron, bringing a leg up under you. “Is this about the mission?” Her voice is low as she leans across the table, forgetting about the rest of her dinner.

The last few days have been hell. Rumours have been flying around base, centered around a box full of Jedi crystals. Kyber crystals, you’d told Rose the other day, not that the name cleared anything up. You’d poked around the base’s library on your datapad when you had the odd chance, but the Jedi were now the stuff of legend, just stories told to children about ‘the good old days’.  

The rumours made things worse - you’re not sure how much of it to believe - there were so few people who were even Force sensitive but as far as you were aware there were no Jedi left. Luke Skywalker was lost, and therefore probably dead. And even if Jedi did still exist, weren’t they supposed to be the good guys? Why hadn’t they come to help fight along with the Resistance?

But Dameron decides to play dumb. “What mission?” His eyes are too wide to be innocent and it annoys you. “Finn’s talking to Leia about…” he pauses, eyes desperately searching the cantina as he tries to think of a good excuse. “The quality of the food!” Turning to you, his eyes are intense. “I know you want more chocolate pudding.” You ignore how he knows that, instead focusing on glaring at him. “Dameron do you think I’m a good pilot?”

“Look,” he turns to face you, ignoring his own food even as you continue to eat, “it’s nothing to do with your skills as a pilot.” He pauses, but you interrupt before he can give you some empty platitude. “I think it is - otherwise why am I not being included?”

“Hey, will you listen,” he turns to you, poking his finger at you for emphasis. “This mission is top-secret and the risk of the First Order finding out is high so-” This time you properly interrupt, flicking his finger out of your personal space.

“So you just decide to talk about it in the corridor by the busy cantina, where everyone and their mother will see you?”

This shuts him up.

The two of you are looking into each other's faces, inches apart. And it’s annoying because Dameron is unfortunately handsome. Why? Why is he of all people so good looking? Rose coughs obnoxiously loud, causing the two of you to break eye contact and turn to look at her. You lean back from him, trying your best to look thoroughly unimpressed as he stands, picking up his tray and when he speaks, huffing, his voice is sharper than it was before.

“Look, I only came over to say that we’re going to have a mission briefing tomorrow at 6. Ok? So, just-” He leaves, mumbling the rest of the sentence under his breath as he walks across the cantina towards Rey, leaving you with your mouth hanging open, looking and feeling like an idiot.

“Well,” you say as you turn back to Rose. “That’s why I hate him.”

“You’ve got a mission, aren’t you pleased about that?” You can tell you’re annoying her now, but you roll your eyes. “Yeah, with Dameron. He’s just going to be hanging over my shoulder and passing judgement whenever he can. I’m not getting my hopes up.”

Every time you came back from a mission Dameron was there. Always. Just waiting to tell you what you should have done, how you should have flown, how he would have done it. As though the only reason he hadn’t done it was because he was too important.

You knew you didn’t fly how most people did, it had cost you marks in your final exams at school, and it cost you a place in a higher squadron, but it was hard to find the will to change when the poster boy for the Resistance saw nothing but incompetence when he looked at you. Bastard, you couldn’t help but think as you stabbed the last of your greens, wishing it was his face.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

The mission had been going so well. You’d dropped into the planet’s upper atmosphere, bypassing the planet’s security, got inside the compound, obtained the uber-secret box (your briefing hadn’t quite covered what was inside, annoyingly) and you’d been about to sneak out when you’d decided a bit more snooping was necessary.

The box had been in the centre of a library/museum set-up and even you could tell that these were rare books. So you’d told Dameron to inspect the objects while you scanned the books, pulling out a few that caught your eye.

The first warning you had been given was a blaster grazing your arm, causing you to yelp in pain, dropping the books and duck to the floor as another shot had ripped through the shelves - an inch or two above where your head had been. So a crap shot then.

Paper had fluttered down around you as you looked for Dameron. The shelves would provide good cover but unfortunately it also meant you couldn’t see your shooter. Pulling your blaster out from its holder, you aimed a couple of returning shots into the darkness at the edges of the room as you looked for Dameron.

You found him near the exit, standing over a number of droids. He’d been holding the box with one arm, the other bleeding heavily, but you’d managed to escape, tangling with another droid who’d punched you as you left the way you came, avoiding the crap shooter on your way out. You didn’t want the First Order to know who’d been there.

So now you and Dameron were walking back to the ship, cutting through undergrowth as you desperately tried to remember the way, face throbbing in pain. Dameron had fallen quiet very quickly, and you were alarmed to see how much blood he had lost so far. His face was pale and all you could think was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t’ve tried to poke around and look for other useful bits and pieces, you would have got out with no trouble.

Oh shit.

You were definitely lost now. You’d taken a gamble on the last turn and this was wrong. There should be a stream somewhere to your left which led back to the ship. Where was it? This was so wrong. And how were you going to admit this to Dameron? “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You swore under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Dameron’s voice wasn’t right. He’d lost a lot of his power, and you turned to face him, watching as a small drop of blood fell to the floor. You don’t want to say it, you know he’s going to hold this over your head later, your first truly important mission and you’ve fucked up so bad. “I -” you hesitate, mouth open, so unwilling to say it, especially to Poe, you have to force it out. “We’re lost...I don’t know the way back.”

And...oh god, you’re not going to start crying are you? You can feel the familiar burn on the back of your eyes so you blink, looking away from him. But Dameron starts struggling, using his injured arm to try and reach down, looking for something. You move closer, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to stop moving, to stop aggravating his injury. “What are you doing?” And your voice is mean and you don’t know why but his skin is cool, cooler than it should be causing your heart to skitter out of control.

Dameron looks up into your face and his eyes are a little unfocused. Shit. “Looking for a tracker - the ship -” His voice doesn’t sound normal. But you have to be the calm one, you have to be the one in charge so you push the panic down, trying to speak normally. “Where is it? You shouldn’t be using that arm.”

“In my pocket, I -” But you’re one step ahead, unceremoniously dropping his wrist and reaching in, pulling the tracker out. A thin disc with a central button, which you press, and a red light spins around the edge before settling a direction to your left, forcing you to turn about 45 degrees.

You set off, pushing through the undergrowth and snapping branches from trees, kicking any debris out of Poe’s path as he stumbles behind you. Panic is still rising in you, you can’t be the reason the Resistance’s best pilot dies. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckin’ motherfucker, please, please, plea-

You pause for a second, trying to get your breathing back under control, even as it skitters away from you. You glance back at Poe, who nods at you.

BB-8 is waiting back at the ship, preliminary checks before take-off having been completed. You help Poe lift into the co-pilot’s chair you’d been occupying earlier and squeezing into the pilot’s chair. You don’t remember the flight back, don’t remember dodging the planet’s security as you took off, all you remember is how pale and quiet Poe is. He watches you the whole way which would normally annoy you, but you don’t think his eyes are fully focused.

You’ve done better landings when you get back to the base, but you don’t really care, Poe’s breathing is different, you can’t stop the panic rising in you, and the second you’ve opened the door you’re yelling, voice already hoarse. “Medic! Medic! I need - I need a medic!” People swirl around you, when did they get here? But you don’t want to let go of Poe, one arm around his back, his uninjured one around your neck while you keep a tight hold of the box.

You fight as someone tries to unfurl your fingers, Poe’s weight disappearing and you’re crying now, hardly able to open your eyes. You don’t feel the sharp sting of the tranquilizer, instead blindly fighting the rising darkness inside you, unable to recognise it for what it is. Voices are all around you, muffled like you’re underwater and lights are appearing in bright spots above your head. You’re floating, falling backwards, further and further, until everything turns black.

***

The debrief was not fun.

Barely out of the medbay, you’d relayed to General Organa what had happened, how it had been your idea to stay back, how you’d got lost in the forest after, how you made a mess.

Due to your injuries, it had been just you and her, and even now, safely in your bunk, you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than having to tell a whole command room. Sure, you’d been spared public humiliation, but at the cost of having General Organa’s full attention on your failure.

You’d pulled your curtain across your bunk, and you felt as though you might have to stay buried under your covers for at least a week to emotionally recover from the whole ordeal. The worst part of it was that General Organa hadn’t even seemed disappointed, or angry, just...like she expected it.

And Dameron was still in the medbay. It was coming up to 4 days later, but you’d maintained your distance, not sure your fragile heart could stand the pain of knowing his condition was your fault, no matter what anyone said.

You wanted to see him, to apologise, but at the same time the idea of facing him made you feel sick. It was your fault he was in the medbay, you should have prevented it. In fact, the only reason you even knew he was still in the medbay was because you assumed there would be some kind of announcement or celebration when he was better.

A knock on your door made you jump, and then frown, however the door began to open before you could respond which you supposed was kind of your fault, you should have locked it, now you were going to have to talk to someone-

And General Organa walks into the room.

You stand up so fast, you get a rush of blood to the head, your vision going black slightly at the edges. “General, I-” you start talking before you even know what you’re going to say, so shocked to see your hero in your room. Your eyes flick over to the mess of clothes you haven’t bothered to wash in the last week, tissues on the floor, half eaten snack bars and their wrappers littered around as you wished the room was a lot tidier.

“I wanted to check how you were getting on.” Her voice is soft, but still carries that familiar authority as she pulls out the chair from your desk and sits on it.

Your mind goes blank. General Organa...wanted to check...on you?

You manage to pull yourself together, sitting back down on your bed with a suddenly excellent posture. “Good, thank you General.” You can hardly look at her, it’s like she emits light, and it’s too bright, too much.

You’re hyper-aware of your every movement, this is the first time you’ve properly talked to her, you want her to like you, and oh my god she’s in your room? Her eyes never leave you, so you stare at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “Call me Leia.” She pauses, but it’s not enough time for the implications of that to sink in. “It’s understandable if you’re still feeling rough.” Oh stars you’re going to cry.

Your eyes are watery and you know looking down only increases the chances of them falling, but if you look up, she’ll see. “I wish I’d done things differently.” You say, and your voice sounds rough.

The room is swimming when you finally look up, but General Orga - Leia is smiling softly at you. “I think about every second of that mission and for every decision that I made, I wish, I wish I did the opposite thing.”

“Why?” The question is asked so simply, and there are so many answers, they crowd your mind. “You were successful, weren’t you?” Still you can only gape at her. Successful? Dameron is still in the medbay-

“I know what it’s like to blame yourself for a mission going sideways.” Leia continues, “But you retrieved the box, you’re both alive, Poe is healing well, the medics say the bleeding has stopped and his stomach is on the mend now.” His stomach? You frown, his stomach wasn’t injured, it was just his shoulder, but Leia mistakes your frown for further dissent.

“I know you think it was your fault because you said let’s stay behind, but what if you had found something important? And Poe agreed, didn’t he? It’s not just on you. You just have to learn when the risk is worth the reward.” With that, she stands, so you do too. “I’ll formally debrief the two of you together when Poe’s out of the medbay, but I thought you needed to know this.” You nod, unable to speak again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

It’s almost too late before you can speak again, Leia halfway out of the door, but she turns back when she hears your voice. “Thank you.” And you mean it. Leia didn’t say much, and nothing new, but she was right. The mission was technically a success. Things went wrong, but you were both alive.

Sitting back on your bed, you feel lighter, more like normal. And a part of that normality is annoyance towards a certain pilot. He was injured in his stomach? The more you think about it, the more a cold fury rises in you. Why wouldn’t he say? He was carrying that heavy box and - you let out a growl, surprisingly loud in the quiet room.

You make your way to the medbay, becoming angrier and angrier with each step. No wonder he had so much blood loss! How dare he not say anything! How could he not tell you? Did he not trust you?

You ignore the signs that tell you visiting hours are over, and maybe it’s the look in your eyes that stops any medics from reminding you as such when you march up to the front desk. “I need to see Poe Dameron, which room is he in?” You feel a tiny bit bad for being so demanding to an overworked medic, but you can’t think past how Poe Dameron lied to you.

You’re shaking as you walk to Dameron’s room, not bothering with pleasantries as you bang open the door. He’s lying in the bed, BB-8 charging in the corner and had you been calmer you would have noticed how Dameron jerked awake when you slammed his door shut. You ignore how he’s hooked up to various machines and drips, bandages covering his body.

“You were shot in the stomach?” Your voice is mean again.

Dameron just blinks groggily at you, a combination of drugs and tiredness, but you push down any pity, letting righteous anger flood your veins with fire. “What?” His voice is hoarse from misuse and sleep.

“You were shot in the stomach?” You repeat, keeping hold of that cold fury as you look down at his face. This extra minute is all Dameron needs to wake up properly and realise why you’re so upset. “No- just, just stabbed.”

“Just!” - and it’s like you’re watching yourself, no control over your actions and even to your own ears you sound hysterical, the volume of your voice rising.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You demand as he presses a button, lifting the top half of his bed up. Tears are once again pricking your eyes, but this time you will not be crying, so you wipe them away quickly, past caring.

“Because,” Dameron huffs, realising that's not a full sentence. “I don’t know - you...you had enough on your plate, I didn’t want to add to it.”

“You should have told me.” Your voice is dangerous now, your whole body thrumming with an unshakeable anger, even as you stand completely still. A strong undercurrent continues to carry you onwards in the conversation, and you know you’ll need to leave before it runs out. “You carried that box for fuck knows how long, and what? You were just hiding your injury? You just wanted to be a hero, or embarrass me?”

Dameron stays silent, glare heavy in his eyebrows. It’s too much, you want, you need answers.

“ANSWER ME!” You roar, lashing out in defence.

“I had to!” He’s shouting now too, pushing against the bed with his strong arm. “It was hard enough to snap you out of it when we were in the compound - I wasn’t going to add to it - I had to know you could fly us home!”

His words are like they punched you, a heavy exhalation, and it’s as though all the anger was tightly held in your lungs. “I flew us home.” Your voice sounds small as you take a step back. Dameron’s found the one chink in your armour again, just like he did when you first met, the one weak spot of your insecurity and smashed it to smithereens.

There’s silence in the medbay, pushing against your eardrums as though to emphasise just how the loud the two of you were. There’s a brief flicker of curiosity in the back of mind, wondering why the nurses haven’t intervened yet.

You can’t look at Dameron anymore, instead taking in the number of different machines he’s hooked up to, watching the drips, how his heart rate starts to lower as he forces himself to calm down. “So you didn’t trust me?” You don’t want the answer, but you can’t stop the words.

He takes his time answering again, but you still don’t look at him, hands playing behind your back with the hem of your jumper. “If you don’t trust me - you should have asked Leia to switch me out!” Shut up, shut up, shut up, why can’t you stop talking, you stupid-

“Maybe I should’ve!” His voice doesn’t change, there’s no difference in his heart beat, although it’s on the high side of normal, matching yours, but something changed. There’s a split in the room, a chasm separating the two of you that wasn’t there before.

“Well why didn’t you?”

“Because I felt sorry for you!” Your eyes snap up, looking at his face in terror. “I wanted to give you a chance! I didn’t think you’d fuck up like that.” If Dameron’s earlier words were a punch to your gut, these sent you sprawling. Short of an atomic blast inside you, any feeling left inside you was obliterated. Hot embarrassment crawls up your arms and you want Dameron to feel the same pain.

“Fuck you.”

The words hang there, each second an eon. Poe instantly regrets his words, knowing he’s gone too far. He opens his mouth to apologise, but the words don’t come.

Neither of you say anything, glares still spitting red-hot fire, when you suddenly want to leave. You don’t want to see Dameron’s face again, not for a long time. So you clench your jaw, throwing up your middle finger and slamming the door behind you.

***

Isolating yourself doesn’t seem quite so appealing once you’ve left the medbay, so instead you make your way to Rose’s room, grabbing a bottle of firewater from the cantina as you pass. You need a drink.

When you arrive, you’re not sure you want to talk about the recent shitstorm your life has recently become so the first words out of your mouth when Rose opens the door is- “Do you like Jannah?”

It’s a little mean of a conversation to spring on your friend, but you’re a lot of things, and blind is not one of them. You’ve seen how the two mechanics look at each other. Especially when they think the other won’t see. Holding up the bottle as a peace offering, Rose smirks at you before leaving her door open as an invitation.

Rose denies having a crush on Jannah as you work through the bottle, only conceding on the point that Jannah is very pretty. You’re probably a little too quick to agree, blaming it on the drink that’s currently making you feel like you’re floating a couple of inches above the ground.

Comfortable silence falls on the two of you as you sit there, the floor a little cold under you, leaning against Rose’s bed.

“I’ve been thinking-” Rose starts but you interrupt before she can get any further.

“Dangerous.”

Rose doesn’t dignify this with a response, instead waiting until you wave a hand at her to continue.

“We’ve got a coordinating day off next cycle, if you wanna go to Sanctuary III. They’ll have a festival then, I can’t remember which but it should be good fun.” You can tell she’s keen, so you’ll go with her, but you find it hard to inject any enthusiasm into your voice.

Rose picks up on this, sighing as she refills her glass. “Alright don’t seem too keen on the idea.”

Your shrug, not really wanting to talk about the real reason you can’t find any excitement. “Sorry. I’ll go with you. It’ll be fun.”

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is gentle, and her hand is on your arm, and it’s so reassuring, so warm, your skin sings under her palm.

You talk to your feet as you tell Rose what Dameron said. “-and he - it was horrible, Rose,” you sniffle, tears springing into your eyes again. “And I - we’ve never got on, he’s, y’know, annoying, we’re always bickering, but I just - I never thought that he actually - it’s my fault he’s injured, and maybe he does hate me and-”

You stop your tirade and for the first time, just let yourself cry and breathe for a second. Rose’s arm comes around your shoulder and you lean into it, slightly. “It’s fine - I mean I never liked him anyway, now I can just move straight into the dislike section, maybe even hate I dunno.”

“Ok you should know that that’s not healthy first of all.” Rose’s voice floats out from above your head. “Second, I’m sure he didn’t mean it, and anyway, who cares what he thinks? Leia thought you did well. And third, this is all the more reason to do something on our day off!”

You give a weak chuckle and nod. You spent the rest of the night, playing cards and chatting about lighter topics until both of your eyes start to burn and you make your way to bed.  

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Chapter 2

[jeonsjiddies]

Mine | myg (m)

Summary - A jealous Yoongi shows you that no one else can fuck you like he can.

Word Count- 1487

Pairing- Yoongi x reader

Genre- smut

Warnings- dom!yoongi, possessive yoongi, jealous yoongi, dirty talk, rough sex, oral (f recieving), multiple orgasms

a/n: another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

It was a Friday night at your local bar, and you were ready to let loose. You’d had exams all week, and had spent the majority of your time with your head shoved in a book, trying to pass. You didn’t want to take your education for granted, so you worked your ass off to catch up and score a good mark on the exams. You’d slacked a little the previous weeks, too caught up in your new relationship with Yoongi, the beautiful man who was currently sending you “come hither” eyes as you made your way through the crowded bar. You’d made up for it but now? You were ready to party. The bartender slid a strawberry daiquiri your way and you closed your eyes as you drank it. The sweet drink always took a minute to kick in, but had you feeling loose and happy and warm. Your whole body felt more fluid and limber, and you walked up to Yoongi who gathered you in his arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

“Hey, gorgeous.”  

“Hey, sexy,” you winked. 

“Already buzzed? Such a bad girl,” he tsked.

“I deserve to let loose a little,” you argued, “I’ve been studying my ass off.” 

“I know I’ve barely seen you,” he whined, “was starting to think you were ditching me for someone else.”

“Like anyone could compare to you,” you scoffed, turning to survey the room.

“I am pretty sexy, eh?” 

You rolled your eyes with a playful smile just before your favorite song came on and you shrieked excitedly, begging Yoongi to come dance with you. He declined, telling you he didn’t dance. You pouted, and walked off to dance on your own, but what fun was that? You saw Hobi standing by the bar, bobbing his head to the music, and you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the center of the room. He easily began moving his body to the rhythm, dancing next to you and laughing. Hobi was always up for acting like a fool and you loved it. He was one of your best friends, aside from Jimin, but he was working on picking someone up at the bar. The song changed to an even faster one, one of those songs that had the whole room thumping with the bass and brought out your inner stripper. Or maybe it was the alcohol.  Either way, you pressed the back of your body up against Hobi’s front, grinding against him to the music. You didn’t mean anything by it, you were just having fun.Hobi didn’t think anything of it either, happily dancing along to the dirty song, slightly drunk himself. You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck, and he placed his on your hips as you danced in time with the music. When the song ended, you both burst into laughter, and you went to find Yoongi while a slow song played.  He sat over by the pool tables, brows furrowed and eyes dark.

“Hey baby,” you smiled, sitting on his lap and kissing his cheek.

“Don’t ‘hey baby’ me after you just dry humped my best friend on the dance floor,” he scowled.

“What?” you laughed, “You mean dancing with Hobi?”

“Yes, I mean dancing with Hobi! You were all over him!”  

“It was just dancing,” you defended yourself, “you wouldn’t dance with me.”

“So you throw yourself at the first guy who pays you attention?”  

You froze, his words stinging like he’d smacked you right across the face.

“You know it wasn’t like that,” you bit back.

“It sure looked like it,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Oh my gosh, you’re jealous.”  

“I’m not jealous,” he let out a single sarcastic laugh.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t mind if I went and found Hobi again? I hear talk dirty to me is the next song coming up,” you stood, and Yoongi’s big hands clamped around yours. 

“Don’t,” he warned.

“Or else what?” you grinned. “Why would it matter if you’re not jealous?” 

“I don’t want another man’s hands on you. You’re mine,” he growled.

Something about the way he’d said it, so carnally, made you stop and look at him. His dark hair messy, eyes intense, vein in his jaw taut, one fist clenched as the other hand held onto you, firm but not painful. However, there were sure to be marks as he tightened his grip, pulling you towards him. Your hands went to his chest as your eyes locked with his. Your breathing became labored as you both just stared at each other, sexual tension rising between you. He crashed his lips onto yours like a feral animal and you kissed him back with the same frenzy, earning a few hoots and hollers. Yoongi simply held up his middle finger and continued to kiss you passionately. 

“Yoongi,” you whined, pulling away, “need you.”  

He picked you up, placing you on the ground before standing and grabbing your hand, driving home as fast as the car could take the two of you. He nearly dragged you into the apartment, stripping his clothes off haphazardly, tossing them wherever as he left dark hickeys on any patch of skin he could find of yours. Your neck, your breasts, your arms, it didn’t matter. Yoongi just needed to touch you, mark you, claim you. You moaned as he bit down roughly, tugging on your bottom lip. 

“Y/N, you’ve been such a bad girl tonight, teasing me. Rubbing up on Hoseok, showing off in front of everyone. This whole neighborhood is going to hear you scream tonight, they’re all going to know you’re mine,” he growled with an air of dominance.

You shivered, nodding.  He smirked, and ordered you to get on the bed, naked and on all fours. You did as told without hesitation. He wasn’t one to be reckoned with when he was like this. Territorial, jealous, animalistic. He smacked your ass once, watching it bounce from the impact with a satisfied smirk. You flinched, but you secretly liked how rough he was being, how commanding and powerful he was. He stripped down, rolling a condom onto his thick, throbbing erection, before lining himself up at your entrance and shoving it abruptly, causing you to gasp at the sudden burning.   The burning quickly subsided as you adjusted to Yoongi’s size, and he started thrusting into you fast and furious, tugging on your hair and making you lift your head so he could leave hot, wet kisses on the side of your neck. You grunted with each thrust, trying to hold yourself up as your arms weakened in pleasure, but it didn’t stop Yoongi. He pounded into you with all his anger, all his jealousy, all his possessiveness. You absolutely loved this side of him, already soaring towards your release. Loud moans and screams left your lips, his name falling from them like a prayer. Your whole body shook, and the headboard against the wall sounded like thunder from how forcefully it was rocking. Yoongi pulled you up on your knees, so your bodies were fully flush against each other, but didn’t slow down.

“You like that, princess? You like my cock buried inside you, pounding your sweet little pussy?” he growled. “I bet Hoseok couldn’t fuck you like this.”

“No, just you,” you choked out, dangerously close to your climax.

“Say it again, who makes you feel this good?” he demanded.

“You, Yoongi!” you cried out, orgasm crashing over you as Yoongi released at the same time, both of you feeling like you were in outer space from the intensity. 

You lay there breathless, and Yoongi shoved your legs apart again. 

“Yoongi?” you asked, spent and panting.

“When you can’t walk tomorrow, I want you to remember how good my cock was inside you, how good my tongue is,” he grinned deviously.

His tongue darted inside you, and you groaned in ecstasy, still sensitive from the rough fucking he’d just given you. He slipped two fingers inside your heat, pumping in and out quickly and mercilessly as his tongue worked magic on your clit, almost immediately bringing you to your second orgasm of the night. Yoongi spent all night pleasuring you in multiple ways and by the time he was finished, you were completely exhausted. You couldn’t even move and your clit kept throbbing, your legs twitching from time to time. 

Yoongi lazily left soft kisses along the already formed hickeys on your skin. He smiled against your lips, then laid next to you, cloaking you in his safe embrace.

“You did so good, princess. You took it all like a pro,” he complimented.

“Mmm…” you smiled, too tired to reply.

Yoongi chuckled and you fell asleep in his arms, listening to him whisper how beautiful you were, how glad he was that you were his, and how you better not grind on Hoseok ever again.

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 21

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Whatever alcohol was present in her system evaporated alongside Chat Noir’s mask dissolving from his face. The moment the last bit of electric green disappeared, Marinette froze. 

It couldn’t be true. 

Chat Noir…

Chat Noir was Adrien?

Her Chaton was Adrien Agreste?

She stumbled back, barely able to breathe. A shiver ran down her spine as her body moved on its own, her hands covering her mouth in disbelief. 

Because this… this didn’t make any sense!

Her eyes must be deceiving her. 

Adrien couldn’t be Chat Noir! 

Chat Noir couldn’t be Adrien Agreste!

That was impossible!

It shouldn’t…

He watched her for what felt like an eternity. Her head spun, cold spreading to her very core. Adrien looked away, turning around. She couldn’t move, her body gripped by an invisible force. He called for his transformation and walked to the balcony’s door. Marinette couldn’t utter a single sound. Chat vanished into the night, but she continued to stand in her place barely breathing. 

Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste!

Chat Freaking Noir was…

Chat…

Something pinched her cheek, the pain bringing her out of the trance.

“Are you alright?” Tikki hovered at her eye level, her eyes big and blue and filled with worry.

“No,” Marinette whispered, sinking to the floor. Her body trembling, she clutched her hands together. “Chat is Adrien. Did you see, Tikki? Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste.”

“Yes. I saw that.” 

“Chat… is Adrien…” 

Chat Noir’s words that confused the heck out of her just a few moments ago suddenly made a whole lot of sense. She couldn’t remember everything he’d let out, but there was one bit that popped right at the top of her mind.

 The truth, Marinette, is that you are the one who doesn’t love me.

 Her heart tightened, breathing shallow and quick. 

That wasn’t true! 

She loved Chat! She loved him with her whole heart. 

Adrien? Gosh! If the last few weeks could prove anything it was that Marinette was still very much unable to resist him. Falling in love with Adrien must be in her genes or something, and she wasn’t talking solely about physical attraction. She loved his soul, his character, his kind heart. She loved the person he was, not just his looks. Otherwise, there would be no need to cut him off as cruelly and unequivocally as she'd done in order to stay faithful to Chat Noir.   

Her vision blurred. Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat, her gaze falling onto the dining table. The candles burned low in the middle alongside a cheese platter, a bowl of grapes, and a bottle of wine with two glasses set by each place setting. He was a horrible cook, but he’d tried his best to prepare at least something for her when she was too busy partying to do it herself. 

Her stomach dropped, every muscle in her body numbing. He'd given her a place to live basically for free when officially they were still enemies. He’d instituted a curfew and opened a cafeteria at work to keep her alive and healthy. Marinette closed her eyes, swallowing her pride. Sooner or later she had to admit it. 

He did it solely for her.

When she wasn’t taking care of herself, Adrien used whatever power he had to keep her nourished and rested to help her recover her sanity and health… all while they were still at odds with one another.

 I should've been smarter than to help you again as soon as I saw you struggling. But, no! I just had to rush in with my help, all while you despised me so much you couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with me for more than five minutes!

 The beating of her heart echoed in her ears, images of Adrien popping in front of her eyes. 

Adrien trying his best to be friendly and help her at work. Adrien apologizing for his mistakes and going above and beyond to earn her forgiveness. Adrien smiling and laughing with her. Their easy conversations in the last few weeks. His eagerness and his sincerity in trying to win her friendship again. The comfort of his company. Subtle glances she hadn't missed. The fire they ignited in the pit of her stomach. The hurt that filled his eyes at her outburst at the after-party.

Marinette curled in on herself, wrapping her hands around her head. A pitiful moan escaped her lips. It all made sense now. 

 I’ve tried so hard for you to like me.

 Was this why he shied away after the reveal? Was this why he doubted her feelings? Was this why he refused to kiss her? Because she claimed to love him in the mask while pushing away his civilian self?

 Stupid, brainless, and pathetic because despite knowing everything, knowing you hated me and knowing you’d never forgive me… I still managed to fall in love with you. 

 Her eyes snapped open. She stood hastily, catching herself on a nearby chair when her feet fumbled underneath her. “I have to go to him.”

Tikki zoomed to her face. “Marinette, no. Please, don’t rush into anything. It never ends well when you do that.”

“But, Tikki, I have to. He’s my partner and he’s hurting. I hurt him. I have to go—” 

“He’s your partner who is also Adrien. And Adrien would expect you to answer his question the next time you see him. Are you ready to give him an answer now?”

“What question?”

“Can you look Adrien in the eyes and tell him that you love him without the slightest doubt? Can you trust him with your heart again?”

She was about to scream ‘Yes!’ She had forgiven him. She was certainly attracted to him. She enjoyed his company and loved the man he had become. 

Was it enough, though, for the kind of love she knew he wanted? 

Could she look at him and tell him she loved all of him with all of his faults and with their history? More importantly, could she trust him enough to open her heart and give him a chance? Because the “can’t fully trust you” bit Marinette threw at Adrien back at the after-party wasn’t as baseless as it seemed. She might have forgiven him, she might have been falling in love with him, but building back the trust they once shared required time that simply hadn’t passed yet.

Was she ready for the kind of commitment Adrien wanted and deserved?

Marinette couldn’t say. She wasn’t sure. Making that choice at this moment terrified her. 

“You have to be careful with this,” Tikki said, gently cuddling her holder’s cheek. “There’s a lot at stake. His heart is at stake. Yours too. Please. I don’t want you two getting hurt anymore. I'm not sure either of you can handle any more of the heartache, and we both know that when you act on an impulse, you tend to overreact and say or do things you don’t mean. So, please, Marinette. Don’t rush. Calm down. Think about it and, only when you’re absolutely certain in your decision, act.”

Shaking, Marinette closed her eyes, weaving her arms around her torso. “I have to talk to him, Tikki.”

“And you will. But take some time to figure out your feelings first. This might be a life-changing decision for both of you. Please, don't take it lightly. Don't act recklessly when it’s someone’s heart on the line.”

Marinette looked at Tikki, but images of others stood before her eyes. Alya. Nino. Adrien. Perhaps, even her own parents. Who knew how many more. All the times she hurt those she loved, acting impulsively, without thinking, following her temper, trying to prove herself right or achieve what she wanted, turning a blind eye to the needs and desires of others. She really had become like Gabriel Agreste, and she didn't like it. 

Unlike Gabriel, though, she still had the time and a chance to change. Innately, she was a good person and meant well; her heart was sure of it. But Tikki was right. Good intentions could and would turn horribly wrong if executed poorly. That much Marinette had learned quite well recently. And after a few insanely busy months of work, fresh off the rollercoaster of emotions that was this day and still somewhat tipsy after the party, Marinette was not in a state to think clearly right now. No matter how much she hated the idea, it would be better indeed for Marinette to resist her urge to go after him. She had to handle this carefully. This wasn’t a game.

“You need to recover, both physically and emotionally first.” Tikki continued on. “Pass your ESMOD exam. Isn’t it the day after tomorrow?”

Marinette nodded. “This Friday. I still need to read some of the material.”

“Then, focus on that for now. Afterwards, you’ll have a clear mind and the whole weekend to think before you have to see Adrien at work on Monday. That should be enough time to at least get an idea of how you want to move forward.”

“Perhaps, you’re right,” Marinette responded barely audibly, absentmindedly sitting at the table. Pulling one of the candles to herself, she cradled it in her palms. The flame fluttered on the candle’s wick, claiming her gaze and attention as the two men she now knew to be one merged together in her mind. 

It wasn’t just Adrien anymore who went behind her back and betrayed her trust, daring to compromise her biggest dream, even if with the best of intentions. 

No. 

That man was now also Chat Noir. 

But it also wasn’t just Chat Noir with whom she’d fought akumas for a decade, who comforted her when she was hurting, who was her best friend and always, always understood and supported her. It wasn’t just her Chaton anymore with whom she could trust her life without a doubt. It wasn’t just her partner anymore who had been proving his love for her daily for years. Who had died multiple times, protecting her!

It was also Adrien. 

Marinette closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She needed time to come to terms with this, to find sense, to fully grasp the truth she wanted so badly but turned out to be more than she could handle at the moment.

“You should go to bed,” Tikki said, blowing out the candles in the middle of the table. “It’s past midnight already.”

“I should,” Marinette echoed and picked up the still lit candle in front of her. The flame flickered, dancing around. Beautiful. Warm and life-giving, yet so extremely dangerous at the same time. It called and mesmerized. Were she to answer its call, she would be burned. Was she ready to answer Adrien, knowing that her answer could burn them both should she be too careless?

She was too tired to know the answer herself. 

With a single breath, Marinette extinguished the flame and followed Tikki to her bedroom.

***

The sun peeked over the horizon. Marinette groaned under her covers, shifting onto her stomach. Hugging her pillow, she buried her face into it, hiding her eyes, red and puffy from hours upon hours of tossing and turning and quietly crying in between, from the light. None of the tricks she knew had helped her fall asleep. The blissful oblivion of a dreamland felt farther away with each passing moment as a single thought hammered at her mind relentlessly.

She had to talk to him. 

Yes, she had agreed that it was better for her to stay away until she was calmer, sober, and sure of her feelings and desires. She had to act carefully as not to hurt him again but… Wouldn't he take her silence for an answer? Wouldn't her not reaching out tell Adrien that she wanted neither him nor what they had between themselves back in her life? She didn't want him to think that. She hated the idea.

“Tikki?” Marinette murmured into the silence of her room. 

The kwami hummed and raised her head from the pillow beside her. 

“I was thinking. Maybe I can send him a message? Just to tell him that I need time to think? You know, so he isn't left in the dark and doesn't start assuming things?”

“A message?” Tikki blinked sleepily at her.

Marinette propped herself on her arms, her mind clearer than at any point of the last few days. “Yes. A key to a good relationship is communication, right? So I think we should start to communicate. I don't want him to think I’m giving up and moving on. I want him to know I’m taking this seriously, and I just need time to figure things out. Or something like that.”

Tikki’s smile was gentle and loving, as she flew closer to Marinette. “That’s a great idea. You can transform and leave him a message on his communicator. Plagg will let him know.”

A hint of hope filling her chest, Marinette cradled Tikki in her palms, nuzzling her little face. “I don't want to mess this up again. I love him.”

“Something tells me you will do just fine this time around. Now, transform and leave him a message. You’ll need to catch at least some sleep if you want to pass that exam.”

“Right.” Marinette got out of bed. The array of colours in the sky outside her window were breathtaking. A new day. Another chance. She wouldn't mess this one up. She would take into account her every mistake and do much better this time around. And she would start it with a message to her Chaton, a few words that hopefully would make him feel better.

Determination in her eyes, Marinette never turned away from the rising sun as she commanded, “Tikki, spots on!”

***

Thursday, Marinette buried herself under the reading materials needed to pass her exam. She struggled to keep her concentration, Adrien being constantly on her mind. Friday, she did a quick review in the morning and headed to ESMOD in the afternoon. The lucky charm Adrien gave her was the only object apart from a water bottle on her desk during the examination. Upon exiting the building afterwards, he was the first person she wanted to tell that it was easier than she’d expected, that after years of experience she knew her stuff, and if there were a few questions she didn’t know, Marinette doubted the holes in her fashion history knowledge would greatly impact her final marks. Unfortunately, she wasn’t ready to face him yet. She texted the next best person.

 Marinette: All done. I should know the results in a few days, but I’m feeling pretty confident about this.

Alya: Congrats, girl! I’m sure you passed with flying colours and I expect a party when you get your diploma. 

Marinette: LOL Of course. We’ll invite half of Paris and make lots of noise about it.

Alya: Don’t know about half of Paris, but Nino, me and Adrien better be there. You two did start talking again, didn’t you? And I mean not just business-related topics.

Marinette: It’s a bit complicated at the moment.

Alya: Complicated enough to exclude the man who requested and paid for your ESMOD exam?

 Marinette stilled, looking at her cell phone in confusion. Was she too exhausted after her test to read properly or were her eyes deceiving her? 

 Marinette: What are you talking about?

Marinette: Weren’t you the one to get me an exam through some of your contacts? 

Marinette: And what payment?

Alya: I did snoop around and found out that in your case only your direct supervisor could request the exam you needed under the “obtaining extra qualifications” program. There was also a hefty fee to go along. I told Nino. Nino mentioned it to Adrien. What magic Adrien performed I don’t know, but a few days later he texted me with the information to pass to you. 

 Marinette reread Alya’s messages at least three times before sitting down on a nearby bench. 

Was there anything good in her life recently that Adrien wasn’t involved in? 

Because it seemed that without him, she’d be in a whole different place right now. Her success, her promising future, her wellbeing, her health, perhaps even her very life—she owed that all to Adrien. 

 Alya: Plus, he brings the best wine and cheese. You simply must invite him!

 Marinette gripped her phone, debating. Telling Alya the truth was out of the question. Avoiding the subject it was, then.

 Marinette: Let’s wait for the results first. 

Marinette: About to go underground. Ttyl

Alya: Love you, girl. And let me know as soon as you get those results so I can start planning.

Marinette: Of course. <3

 Her cellphone back in her purse, Marinette descended into the Metro station. The trip back to the apartment didn’t take long. Adrien haunted her thoughts the whole way. 

He did so much good for her. As Chat Noir and as Adrien. And he didn’t seem to expect anything in return. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing it all behind her back. 

A few months ago Marinette would have assumed Adrien was helping her only because he didn’t think she could handle it herself, but she couldn’t say that anymore. Not when she knew Adrien and Chat Noir were one and the same. Marinette knew too well how much Chat respected her and her abilities. He helped her in battles, but he never did her job for her. He always acknowledged her competence, openly admitting that out of the two of them, she was the one best fitted for Ladybug’s role with all the skills and responsibility it demanded. 

Similarly, Adrien didn’t design or sew her collection for her. She did. He just hired her an assistant and made sure she was physically and mentally capable of doing the work herself. Adrien might have gotten her that exam, but she was the one who studied and took it. His help didn’t diminish her achievements and the more Marinette thought about it, the more grateful she felt, shame for the way she treated him in return overwhelming her at the same time. 

She had to make it right! And she had to find a way to do so quickly.

Entering the apartment, Marinette glanced in the kitchen’s direction in confusion. The light was on. Hesitantly, she entered the room but it was empty. Her sight fell to the table. A white envelope and two small boxes rested on its surface, accompanied by a small bag and a note. She picked up the note first, her heart quickening its pace. She knew that handwriting.

 I put some grapes for Duusu in the fridge for the first few days. He prefers the green, sweet variety in case you need to buy more.

 Marinette reached for the bag, finding nothing but good quality silk cut in pieces inside with another note indicating those were for Nooroo. Next, she opened one of the boxes. An electric orb erupted in front of her, a peacock kwami appearing in the middle. 

“Duusu?”

“At your service, My Guardian.” The kwami bowed.

Marinette reached for the second box, the butterfly kwami soon joining them.

“We missed you so much,” Tikki cried, flying in for a group hug with her long-missing friends. “I’m so happy you both are safe.”

She gave the kwamis a few moments to themselves. Once the initial emotions subsided, Marinette reached forward and pulled them all to her chest.

“Welcome back, guys,” she whispered. “We’ve missed you. Let’s get you into the Miracle Box. I’m sure all of your friends can’t wait to see you again.”

She quickly put both miraculouses into their slots in the Miracle Box, sending everyone and Tikki to the kwamis’ space to celebrate. Once alone, Marinette went back to the dining room. Her eyes focused on the only object left on the table she hadn’t touched yet—the letter. 

There was only one person who could’ve delivered Nooroo and Duusu. The letter must also be from him. She reached for it, jerking her hand back almost immediately. Marinette bit her lip, trying to touch the letter again. A shiver ran down her back. She withdrew again. A few moments and a couple of other failed attempts later, Marinette jumped to her feet and paced the room. Her breathing shallow, she tried to calm down and muster the courage.   

What was in it?

What did he write?

Did he curse her name?

Was he leaving a door open for her?

Why was she so terrified of reading it?

“You can do it. You can do it. You can do it, Marinette!” she chanted before snatching the envelope off the table and opening it before she could overthink it again.

 Good evening, Marinette.

I apologize for the intrusion. I know you said you needed time to think and I respect that and will wait no matter how long it takes. However, I promised to deliver Nooroo and Duusu to you and this was the only way I could think of doing so safely and without us meeting. There are also a few things I owe to tell you. That night, you asked me for the whole truth, but I delivered only some of it. A letter seems like the most appropriate method for the rest.

Before, though, I want to apologize for my outburst. My actions and words that night were unacceptable and I said things that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I know I can't fix anything now, but I wanted you to know that despite what it may have sounded like, I don't blame you for anything. Shit happens. We all make mistakes. Some are just impossible to fix and I could never blame you for not trusting me because of my own actions.

Now, the whole truth you wanted. I won’t discuss my identity in depth. There is really not much to it. My name is Adrien Agreste. I received the Black Cat miraculous when I was fourteen and have been Chat Noir ever since. 

My father. I found out that he was Hawkmoth when I visited the mansion for those sketches you needed. I stumbled upon the butterfly miraculous in one of the drawers in his desk. Nooroo then told me about the peacock miraculous my father kept in his safe, and that Nathalie, my father’s assistant, used to be Mayura. I didn’t know either of those things before that evening, and I wish I’d never found out, but knowing my father, I was hardly surprised. 

Lastly, Felix. My cousin, Felix Graham de Vanily, lives in London and is a skilled designer, but he wasn’t the one who was assisting you these past few months. The truth is—I couldn’t find a qualified assistant for you in time, so I figured I could use Nooroo’s power to make up for my incompetence. Long story short, I akumatized myself into ‘Felix’ so I could use his skills to help you. I hope you can forgive me for that. I swear, if I could have found you a real assistant in the time frame I had, I would’ve, but it wasn't happening and time was pressing and I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for the mess ‘Felix’ was. Unfortunately, being an akuma, I couldn’t control my actions and words, and I know I made you uncomfortable far too many times as ‘Felix’. I’m sorry about that. ‘Felix’ won’t be returning so you don’t have to worry about him anymore. The HR department will find you a new assistant soon. 

I guess that’s it. That’s all of my secrets, the whole truth. 

I dare, though, to ask you for a favour. I know as a Guardian, it’s your duty to gather all of the miraculouses back into the Miracle Box, but I beg you to allow me to keep Plagg. He’s been by my side for most of my life. He’s my best friend, the only family I still have. I can’t give him up. Not yet. I know there will be a point in time where I’d have to, but if I may, I’d like to hold onto him for now. I can keep you updated on his whereabouts at any given time, so you’ll be able to claim him if the need ever arises, but I’d really appreciate it if you can grant us some more time together.

One more thing, I’m sorry for what happened on that terrace. I never meant to push you to cheat on your “boyfriend”. I only wanted you to like me. I wanted you to see potential in me, so that when I revealed my identity later, you wouldn't reject me straight away. I didn't plan to kiss you. I just wanted to spend some time with you and got caught up in the moment. And I’m so, so sorry for that. I just can’t seem to think straight when it comes to you. And I don’t know if this matters anymore, but for what it’s worth, I avoided kissing you as Chat Noir not because I didn’t love you, Marinette, but because I knew you’d hate to kiss Adrien. I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t let you kiss the person you hate just because he had a mask on his face. 

I’m sorry if my feelings have been too much of a nuisance. I would completely understand if you decide to move on, and if that is the case, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Adrien won’t be coming back to Gabriel. Chat Noir will vanish as well. I love you too much to keep hurting you, and it seems that’s the only thing I do every time I get close. 

Please, forgive me. I never meant any harm. Thank you for everything you’ve given me. I’ll treasure every memory with you forever.

Adrien.

P.S. Good luck with your ESMOD exam. You'll do great!

P.P.S. Just thought I’d mention that you can stay at the apartment for as long as you need. I don’t use it anyway, and I don’t think I’ll be using it any time soon. When you decide to move out, leave the keys on a table and tape a note to the window, facing the writing outside. I’ll see it eventually.

 Tears pooling in her eyes, Marinette couldn’t look away. 

That idiot!

He did what? 

Doesn’t he know how dangerous—

No! It couldn’t be true! Could it?

She rushed back to the Miracle Box and took out Nooroo’s miraculous. 

“Tell me this isn’t true,” she demanded, as soon as the kwami appeared. “Tell me Adrien didn’t akumatize himself daily for months.”

 His mouth slightly ajar, Nooroo stared at her wide-eyed for a few moments before guiltily bowing his head. “He did.” 

Marinette groaned, facepalming. “How stupid could he get? Doesn’t he know how dangerous it is? There is a reason there are always two people involved in akumatazation. He could’ve easily lost control and endangered all of us.”

“Master Adrien knew the danger,” Nooroo shyly added. “That’s why he asked Plagg to keep him in line.”

“Plagg? Plagg is a kwami. How could he keep an akuma in line?”

“Master Adrien used a very fragile object for the akuma to infect, something that Plagg could easily break when needed.”

She quirked an eyebrow. That was actually very clever. “What object?”

“Your picture.”

Marinette stilled, silently staring at Nooroo for a full half-minute before uttering, “My picture?”

The kwami nodded. “Master Adrien said that because his goal was to help you, it only made sense to use your picture. In a way, he was also counting on it to keep his akumatized self from seeking other goals which, honestly, wouldn’t be an issue anyway because Plagg could de-akumatize him at a moment’s notice if he’d strayed to something different.”

Marinette sat on her bed. "By tearing up the object, in this case, a picture, right?"

“Yes.” Nooroo smiled. “Plagg had lots of fun doing that. I suspect that’s the only reason he agreed to the whole ordeal in the first place.”

“To rip up some paper?”

“Not exactly.” Nooroo chuckled. “You see, as expected, Master Adrien as an akuma didn’t want to leave your side, trying to help you with everything he could. However, he had other responsibilities, so he couldn’t afford to do that. After a few days of failing to control his ‘help Marinette’ urges, Master Adrien allowed Plagg to do whatever it took to get him out of the room and de-akumatize him at an appointed time.” Nooroo grinned. “Plagg tried different approaches and soon discovered that Master Adrien is very ticklish. Since then, all he had to do was to start tickling him and when Master Adrien couldn’t take it anymore, he’d leave the room to get rid of the annoyance. Once in a hallway, though, Plagg would tear up the picture and Master Adrien would be de-akumatized.”

Marinette couldn’t help a snicker, a lopsided smile sneaking onto her lips. 

This. 

This actually explained so much. Like why ‘Felix’ was so overbearingly helpful with everything. Obsessively, even. Or why he would never warn her that he was leaving, instead vanishing without as much as a goodbye. Or why he seemed to always be extremely uncomfortable right before disappearing. After a while, Marinette had just assumed he had some kind of a health issue and since it wasn't her place to pry, she'd decided ‘Felix’ would tell her when and if he wanted to. The real reason behind his strange behaviour was way too hilarious for her not to laugh. 

Who would’ve thought that it wasn’t some secret disease but a pesky kwami tickling his idiot of a wielder to get him out of the room?

The space filled with giggles, her eyes with tears, Marinette laughed. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see the process of his de-akumatization! Adrien probably looked so adorable after being forced to release the butterfly and drop the transformation. Dishevelled, disoriented, and lost like a kitten. A moment later, he’d be sporting a kicked puppy look, glaring and pouting at his smug kwami, yet unable to do anything because he was the one to ask for it. That would’ve been quite a sight to behold.

“He’s such a dummy,” she giggled. “What was he thinking?” 

It was a rhetorical question, one Marinette didn’t expect an answer to, so when Nooroo gave her one, she froze.

“He was thinking of you. Master Adrien was always thinking of helping you, akuma or not. I just gave him the means to do what he wanted.”

Unable to look away, Marinette stared at Nooroo for a short while before dropping her eyes to her hands, clenched together in her lap. “Why? He didn’t know I was Ladybug when he started helping me. I was just a girl who hurt him. Who considered him an enemy for years and wanted nothing to do with him. Why would he go to such lengths to help me?” 

“I might have an answer to that,” Tikki said, flying closer. “Do you remember how the Black Cat’s miraculous wielder is chosen, Marinette?”

Her eyebrows knit in a frown, as Marinette tried to recall Master Fu's lessons. Ladybugs were chosen based on their ability to think outside the box and see things differently. People called it "creativity" but it was so much more than that.  

Black Cats were chosen… 

Her heart quickened its pace, eyes widening a fraction. 

Black Cats were chosen based on the purity of their hearts. It didn’t mean they were perfect and never made mistakes, but it took a really strong and immeasurably kind person to contain the destruction that Plagg embodied. 

With a groan, Marinette fell on her bed face up. She closed her eyes, letting memories flood her mind. She’d fallen in love with Adrien because of his kindness. She’d fallen for Chat because of his loyalty. The man she was getting to know these last few months was still just as kind and loyal, going beyond his abilities to help an estranged and bitter girl who had hated him for years. 

Her eyes filled with tears. How blind and stupid and completely unreasonable she was. How far gone in her resentment she must have been to doubt his intentions. She knew Adrien. She knew how kind and innocent and loving he was. Then why? What happened to her to get them here?

Most importantly, would he ever forgive her?

Because she loved that man. She loved him so much it hurt. 

“I have my answer, Tikki,” Marinette whispered into the silence of the room. 

“You do?”

“Yes. I love him, and I know I can trust him. All of him. With my life.”

“How about your heart?”

Marinette propped herself on her elbows and looked at Tikki, a smile gracing her lips. “Absolutely.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I know it won’t be a smooth ride and we’ll need to figure stuff out and work on it, but if he’ll have me, I’m more than willing to give us another chance and will do whatever it takes to make us work.”

Tikki smiled, leaning against Marinette’s cheek and snuggling. “Good. I’m glad you’ve made a decision you’re happy with.”

“We should go see him now. He’s been waiting long enough.”

Tikki closed her eyes and concentrated on something for a few moments before smiling apologetically at Marinette. "Plagg isn't in the ring, meaning Adrien isn't transformed.”

“You can feel him? Can you tell me where to find him?”

Tikki shook her head. “I can only feel Chat Noir’s energy. That’s how you can locate him with Ladybug’s yo-yo. But unless Adrien transformed, I wouldn't be able to pick up anything. Built-in identity protection.”

“Then maybe I can…” 

Oh, crap.

She didn’t have his contact information. They exchanged neither phone numbers nor emails because at first she didn’t want anything to do with him, and later it never came up. Adrien was always available at the office should she need him. Chat visited her daily and she could contact him through their communicators when he was transformed. Marinette could probably ask Alya or Nino for his number, but she didn’t really want to involve them. Alya was sure to pry and Marinette didn’t want to answer any questions before she and Adrien had a chance to talk. Plus, talking face to face would probably be the best option in their situation. 

‘Okay, then. We can get his number from the office tomo—” Marinette groaned, closing her eyes. “It's Friday. The office is closed until next week.”

“I can let you know if I sense Chat Noir if you want.”

“Thanks, Tikki. That’ll be great. And if not then I guess, we’re getting his number on Monday.”

Tikki placed a tiny kiss on Marinette’s cheek. “I’m proud of you, Marinette. You’ve grown so much.”

Marinette snuggled the kwami close. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Of course you could have,” Tikki smiled. “After all, you’re Ladybug. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

“Only if I have my partner by my side,” Marinette added. “There’s a reason our miraculouses are the only ones that come in a pair, isn’t there, Tikki?”

The kwami let a smile split her mouth as she nodded. “There absolutely is.” 

Unlike the previous nights, today Marinette slept soundly. Her mind made up, she dreamed of how their meeting would go, what she’d say, how Adrien would react. Would he forgive her? Would he finally kiss her now that there were no more secrets between them and he knew she didn’t hate him?

***

The morning brought more pleasant surprises—an email from Sofia Tentazione, a representative for Muï Muï, a fashion house Marinette loved probably just as much as Gabriel. She’d met Sofia at Gabriel’s afterparty and they exchanged contacts, but Marinette had never expected to hear from her. And yet, now she was staring at an email in which Sofia was asking if Marinette would be available to come in for an interview with their head designer in Milan next Wednesday. At the bottom of the email, the postscript stated that as long as Marinette showed up to that interview, she was guaranteed a job at Muï Muï. Apparently, the head designer hadn’t been so impressed with someone’s work in a long time and didn’t even bother hiding his intentions to scout Marinette for himself. The interview was supposedly scheduled only to comply with the house’s hiring process.

“Tikki, am I still asleep?”

“I can check.” Tikki nonchalantly flew closer with a wide grin on her face.

Marinette jerked away, glaring at the kwami. “No, thank you. I know the way you check. I had a bruise for a week last time you checked.”

"You were definitely awake at that time."

“And I’m perfectly awake right now. No pinching required.”

“Why did you ask for it then?”

“I didn’t. I’m just shocked. I have a job offer from Muï Muï! Can you believe it?”

“That’s great,” Tikki smiled, before turning serious. “Will you take it?”

Of course! 

Why would Tikki even ask? Isn’t it why Marinette almost killed herself trying to get the collection done? To get a good job offer from someone so amazing in her situation was nothing short of a miracle.

Why wouldn’t she take it?

Yet something nagged at her. She hesitated. 

“I… I don’t know. I mean, this is a great opportunity, and this is what I wanted, but… I’d have to move to Milan.”

“And leave Adrien behind,” Tikki added.

Marinette bit her lip, every nerve ending in her body tingling. Tikki was right. Adrien wouldn’t move for her. She had no right to even ask that of him. He had a job and his father’s company to take care of in Paris. He couldn’t just abandon it all and move to a different country only to see if they could make it work. 

If he wanted to see if they could work in the first place. 

The truth hit her hard. All the happy fantasies she’d dreamt up last night disappearing, replaced by fear and guilt. Why would he even want her after the way she treated him? Adrien wasn’t a fool. Why would he risk it when all she did was hurt him? In fact, he wouldn’t. He said it himself in that letter—despite still loving her, he was willing to step away because he couldn’t bear to hurt her anymore. 

Her heart ached. Even in this, he was thinking of her first. Was he even real? She certainly didn’t deserve his love. Perhaps this job offer was her answer then. She’d move away and it’d be easier for both of them to get over each other and find happiness with someone else.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat, a low tremor running down her spine. Funny. This situation resembled their first argument so much—she had to choose between him and her career then, too. Only now that amazing job offer in Milan wasn’t nearly as appealing to her as an uncertain chance with a man who might not even want her at this point. 

“Another huge decision to make?” Tikki asked.

“Seems so.”

Tikki flew up, hovering right at Marinette's eye level. "I'm sure you'll make the right decision, Marinette. Just think what will make you happier in the long run."

Marinette chuckled sadly. “So basically, the old cliché ‘Follow Your Heart, Marinette’?”

Tikki nodded. “Yes. Old, cliché, and very true. Look deep into your heart and listen to what it has to tell you. That’s the best thing you can do.”

And that was what Marinette did. She shut her phone off, signed out of her social media and email accounts, and took long walks at the local park, thinking, reflecting, and trying to see what it was she really wanted. It took her almost two days, but Sunday evening Marinette was confident she had found her answer. She turned her laptop back on, and replied to Sofia, agreeing to the interview. 

Then, she took a sheet of paper and wrote a letter to Adrien. She wasn’t sure she could face him right now, but she had to tell him what was in her heart. A letter it was.

Monday morning, Marinette came by Adrien’s office to drop off said letter only to be told that M Agreste wouldn’t be back there any time soon if at all. Luckily, on her way out she ran into his family lawyer who let it slip that he was to meet with Adrien in a few hours at an undisclosed location. Not seeing a better choice, Marinette gave the man her letter and asked if he could pass it to Adrien. Then, she arranged a week off for herself and returned to the apartment. 

With her heart and her future at stake, there was nothing she could handle doing for the next two days but packing her belongings and waiting for Adrien’s response to her letter. 

Next >

[peaches-writes]

october snow

prompt 16: Well, I can’t adjust for you so put this damn jacket on.”

member: minho  wc: 1.1k genre: fluff, mythological / fantasy au, rivals to something else (?) au idk yall just squint really hard warning: explicit language note: this goes on record that sugar a little snow fairy was my comfort anime when i was a kid + same universe as neighborly presents! + i dont know how to end this i have a presentation for a class tomorrow lmao

You lean forward and extend your hand out in front of you with a sigh, some of the falling snowflakes slowly landing on your palm after. Glancing upwards, more grey clouds begin appearing out of nowhere in the previously clear afternoon sky until the sun becomes fully hidden, blanketing the entire city beneath the hill with more unexpected snow in the middle of October.  

“Like it?” An all-too familiar voice asks from over your shoulder, walking up to you after with his hands in his pockets and a smug smile on his face. “I’m thinking of showing this to our mentor in a while.”

“It’s October, Minho, and the snow’s falling too fast.” You roll your eyes, turning to his side to flick his forehead. “You’ll get a failing grade if you submit this.” 

“Long time no see to you too,” He rolls his eyes back, rubbing the spot your fingers hit before flicking your forehead as well. “and who said anything about submitting? I’m just passing this for consultation, dumbass. I scheduled my final exam on the last week of November so I’m trying to get as much consultations as I can before then. You probably should, too, especially with that mediocre rain shower the other day—” 

“Last week of November?!” Your eyes widen and your mouth falls agape before Minho could even finish his sentence. “Ya, I told you I want that week!"

The snow fairy only shrugs and sticks his tongue out at you in response. “So? It’s the perfect week to manipulate the weather. Maybe if you didn’t laze around and talked to Professor Yoon before you left to help Felix then maybe you would’ve gotten that schedule, I guess.” 

“Ugh! Lee Minho!” You groan in frustration, raising your hand up to smack him before shakily and reluctantly putting it down to cross your arms tightly in front of your chest, the snow right beneath your sandals thickening and the air growing colder around you. “I was gonna schedule! I wasn’t lazing around! You know how much I got caught up helping Felix with his cousin’s sprite wedding in the last two weeks! Couldn’t you have scheduled the week before or after?” 

Stubbornly, Minho shakes his head, snow falling off of his orange hair as he does so. If you weren’t suddenly so frustrated with him right now, you would’ve made another one of your dandruff jokes that he hates so much. “Nope, the before week would cost me points with the ‘naturality’ of the snow and the week after already has a higher chance of having actual snow fall.” He argues in his defense, eliciting more protests from you. “What if you just scheduled the week before or after, anyway? You’re taking an exam on rain-making, that doesn’t rely too much on timing. You’ll do fine on any given week!” 

“But the last week’s my only free week!” You exclaim with a huff that forms a light cloud of smoke right in front of your lips, completely missing how he complimented you towards the end. Your arms tighten in front of your chest at the lowering temperature, your lips quickly drying up. I’ve already told this guy to slow down his weather! What the fuck?! You groan internally, furrowing your eyebrows at the quick build-up of snow around you. “The actual wedding’s on the third week and then there’s another festival on my village h-happening right on the first week of Decem—y-ya, can you stop this snow for a second?! It’s getting too fucking cold and my teeth’s chattering too much!”   

“Well, I’m busy with my own things until December, too, and no, I have to let this fall longer before showing it to Professor Yoon.” He insists with another shake of his head before suddenly shrugging off his coat with an awkward cough. “Here, put this on. So, as I was saying—“

Your eyes widen at the beige long coat that’s then carelessly thrusted in front of you as Minho rambles on about how he’s already cleared his other important schedules for that last week you’re both fighting over. “Dude, come on, gross, I’m not taking your coat.” 

“Well, I can’t adjust for you so put this damn jacket on, we’re not done arguing yet.” He only says, throwing the coat over your head when you won’t receive it. “And stop talking for a second, I’m getting off track! Anyway, I’ve already moved everything I’m supposed to do on that week, including a visit to my parents and helping Chan move to his new house! My mom’s going to have my head if I give up that last week of November for you then reschedule again with her! You know how she hates it when people keep messing up her time and everything—“

You remove the coat from your head while Minho proceeds to lecture you on about schedules and responsible time management. When you try to give it back to him, however, he only pushes the jacket back to you—this time taking the liberty of swiftly wrapping it around you and holding the opening shut with his own hands, all the while continuing his rambling.

“I already told you to stay still, I’m not done with my rant yet and I can’t have you dying on me before I get my point across.” He scolds you irritably after, brushing snow off of your hair with his free hand. “Now, where was I? Ah, right! See? I told you, we may have mutually agreed on being rivals throughout this whole apprenticeship but come on, Y/N, this is the final exam at least be a little more focused and responsible with your time so just stop complaining and take the damn third week of November because I’m not giving up that position...”

You can only sigh and lift your hand up to your face from the strict confines of the jacket wrapped around you, smacking your forehead in frustration as you give up trying to interpret his mixed actions and letting him ramble on. “Ah, seriously this guy.” You mumble under your breath before clearing your throat and loudly saying, “Fine, fine, fine, take the damn last week of November just let me out of this jacket.” 

Minho immediately stops rambling at this and raises an eyebrow teasingly at you. “Really?” 

“Yes. God, you’re so annoying.” You groan, twisting and squirming around the jacket. “Now let me out and clear the sky, we’ll drown in snow at this point.” 

“Okay, well...that was fast. Don’t take that back now, okay?” Minho chuckles before reluctantly letting go of his coat but not without closing the front buttons. “You still need to wear the jacket, though, since I still need a few inches of snow on the ground.” 

“Minho!” You protest, sliding your arms into the coat’s sleeves anyway as Minho makes the snow fall harsher and the air colder. “Seriously, you’re going to cause city-wide hypothermia!” 

on a night much like tonight (drabble game)

[grantyort]

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.  

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

 [Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean! 

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait! 

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

 DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white] 

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response.  Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go. 

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for... 

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

[linphd]

monoma x fem!reader | hateful sex [1/3]

neito monoma x reader

female reader

Neito and (Y/N) have been having hateful sex since their first year at U.A. But do they still hate each other ?

warning : smut, lemon, bit degradation cause it's neito

-> somnophilia, edging, cumshot, riding.

based on this discussion with @mhastories

this is gonna have a part two since we made two posts abt it and this is based on the first one

that's gonna be long anyway cause I have a lack of Neito smut and for once I'm really into a smut I'm writing lmao (2500 words)

They both could tell how it started. Neito had gotten on (Y/N)'s nerves once more, and this time she couldn't find anything else to do to piss him off. It was only them, in front of the dorms, since they had gotten into a fight and had landed in detention. He kept making fun of her, and right at the doors of the 1A dorms, he gave her a look that she couldn't stand. That little smile he had on most of the time, the one he had given everyone at the sports festival. The 'I'm better than you' smile. ''What are you gonna do about it, (L/N) ?'' He asked, before giggling.

The said girl thought, and then smiled. It actually scared Neito to see her smile like that. He only arched an eyebrow, his smile fading. And she kissed him. She even slipped her tongue in, as he gasped at the sudden movement. The boy's eyes only widened when he saw (Y/N)'s amused expression, but still, it was a competition. Everything was. So he deepened the kiss, actually getting into it and closing his eyes. He had kissed some random girls in middle school, but never it had felt this heated and special.

When she pulled away, she stared at him, as if she was waiting for something. ''What ? It felt great ?'' The blonde sang that sentence, his smile back. ''I don't know, you're the one blushing.'' (Y/N) replied. ''You're red too.'' He pointed out, poking her cheek, maybe to make her feel how warm her face was. ''Because I stopped breathing. Don't think I enjoyed that.'' She said, pushing his finger away.

Still, Neito chuckled, catching her attention as she was opening the front door. When she turned, he cupped her face with one hand and kissed her again, this time rather quickly. He was laughing when he pulled away, as she was more blushing than before. ''What the fuck are you even doing ?'' She asked, grabbing his wrist, but not really trying to push him.

''I'm continuing what you started. Strangely, it feels very exciting when we kiss. Maybe it's because I hate you so much.'' He said, caressing her cheek since he still had his thumb on it. They stared at each other for a whole minute, before silently agreeing to finish what they had started. You wouldn't think you would have sex -even less for your first time- with that one person you hate the most, but that's what happened with (Y/N) and Neito.

And if they kept it secret and weren't seeing each other that often during their first year, the two students actually gave up about being discreet once the second year started. People had started to notice they were insulting each other even more than usual, but still didn't mind being paired whenever 1A and 1B had to study, work or train together, during their first year at U.A. Actually, they were even addressing each other with their first names, which felt odd to their classmates.

However, there were rules that they had ; (Y/N) was never going to the boy's dorm, and he always had to go back to his own dorm whenever they were done with their business. And well, that second rule got broken one day where Neito stayed in (Y/N)'s bed. Since everyone had passed their exams, they had a party at the 1A building and they had managed to bring some alcohol to 'try'. And well, that didn't finish well for those two. Sure, the girl's classmates were sure something was going on between them, but they were still confused when they saw the blonde casually walking in their building as if it was his own. That's when they fully understood.

And since that moment the students became aware of Neito and (Y/N)'s relationship, they didn't try to hide it anymore. They weren't dating, no ; they hated each other too much for that. It was only about hateful sex. And believe me, the students really didn't want to know that much details about their relationship ; but Neito was a loud mouth and (Y/N) was simply loud.

Tonight wasn't an exception. Tenya and Izuku were just coming back from a night training, as it was the weekend, and they saw Neito opening their dorms' door. ''(Y/N) is already sleeping, you know.'' Izuku said, still embarrassed since he knew Neito wasn't coming only to play cards or watch a movie. ''No problem, I just need something I forgot in her room.'' He said, casually walking in the building, as the boys were settling in the living room to relax a bit. The blonde made his way to the girl's dorm, knowing she didn't lock the door tonight.

He simply stared at her, seeing her peaceful expression as she was sleeping. Still, he got in the bed, seeing that she had one leg risen to her stomach. He chuckled at the sight. He pulled down her pants and panties, and licked his fingers to lube them. As he started to play with her entrance and her clit, Neito could hear the girl breathing more and more heavily. He knew she wasn't going to be mad at him ; she had told him he could come and that she hadn't locked the door for him. He was a bit late, but he had her consent. And he knew how much she loved waking up to him groaning in her ear, his breath against her neck.

Once (Y/N) was wet enough, Neito managed to slip in one, and then two fingers. And when he felt she was spread enough, the blonde pushed his cock it, very slowly not to hurt her and wake her up because of the pain. Sure he was into that, but not when she was sleeping. When he was finally fully in, he started to pound into her, slow but still hard. He chuckled when he felt her wake up, and burst into laughter when he heard her gasp and moan instantly when she fully understood what was going on.

''I'm sorry I was a bit late, but I had some homework that were due to yesterday to do.'' He said, right next to her ear, making her hum loudly. Wanting him to change to a better angle, she got closer to him, grabbing his wrist when he wrapped his hand around her throat. He got faster as she was fully awoken and into it, chuckling when he felt her getting louder. He kissed the side of her face -wherever he could reach- and escaped a laughter when she released a particular loud moan. He unwrapped her throat and put his hand against her mouth instead, still giggling as he was trying to shush her.

''Your friends are sleeping, you don't want them to bring your moans up to a conversation again, right ? I already do that often enough.'' He said. But she didn't reply, and simply started to bite her lips to restrain her sounds. When (Y/N) started to shake, Neito knew he wasn't going to last. After a few more thrusts, he came, enjoying the long groan she left when she felt his cum spilling inside of her. They both knew they didn't have anything, as they had a lot of exams by being in UA and getting hurt often, so they knew it was still safe for them, despite not having condoms. (Y/N) was on the pill, anyway. However, the blonde pulled out, after kissing the girl's cheekbone. Actually, he almost bumped his teeth against it, only to hurt her a bit in the process. She simply whined, turning her head to look at him standing back up.

''Nah-ah, don't look at me like that. You humiliated me yesterday when we had to train, right ? Bad girls don't get to finish.'' He said, gesturing 'no' with his finger as he was done putting on his pants. (Y/N) only groaned, nuzzling her face in a pillow, before throwing another one at Neito's face. He giggled, before putting it back on her bed. ''See you tomorrow ! I promise that if you're a good girl I'll be very nice to you.'' He said, before winking and walking away, even though she couldn't see him. She was used to him teasing her like that ; she would often do it as well as a revenge. They hated each other, after all. They didn't expect less from one another.

       But actually, Neito had managed to be forgiven. 2A and 2B had a rescue training at the USJ, and he had walked to (Y/N). ''Are you pairing up with me cause else no one in my class will partner up with you ?'' She asked, a grin on her face. However, the fact that the blonde simply nodded made her feel a bit bad. ''If you weren't so mean, they wouldn't care being with you, you know. Sometimes you're likeable.'' She said, making him smile at her statement. Likeable, hm ? That didn't sound much like hatred. But, as he followed her lead the whole day, (Y/N) thought that this training was a great one, without any fight whatsoever.

          Neito released a particular loud groan when he came all over the girl's face. ''Likeable, hm ?'' He asked, seeing her stick her tongue out and staring at him, just the way he liked it. He had managed to sneak it without nobody noticing, since he knew (Y/N) didn't like quite much when people knew he was there. He cupped her face with one hand, his other caressing any part of her skin he could. ''I love that face ! You know I love it when you do that face !'' He said, pulling her closer to him and running a hand through his hair to push it back.

        ''I love you so much when you're all covered with my cum ! I love it !'' He said, giggling, his voice high. One could think Neito would pull up his hysterical face, with his creepy smile and his eyes widened, whenever he felt powerful like this. But actually, he was just wearing an arrogant smile, which was still better than anything. He kissed (Y/N) several times, and she enjoyed this moment to sit on his lap. ''You really are nice to me today, (Y/N) !'' He said, already holding her sides and caressing them with his thumbs. She only nodded, settling herself in a more comfortable position.

        That was in those moments that Neito was weak. He pulled the girl close to him, so close that her cheek was now resting against his shoulder and he was running his hand on her back, while his other was rubbing his own cock to get hard again. It wasn't going to be difficult. He could feel the cum he had left on the girl's face dripping on his own shoulder and collarbone, and seeing her covered like this could make him go from 0 to 100 real quick.

        They were silent. It was a peaceful moment where they could be relaxed and calm, and not rough with each other. That was weird how throughout time, they added some hugs to their hateful sex sessions. Kisses were obvious, most of the time they didn't mean anything. They were even fights for dominance between those two. But the blonde focused on something he said. ''You know I don't really love you, right ?'' He sang, making the girl nod and straighten up to look at him. ''It's just that I'm used to you being so ugly, so once you look beautiful with all my cum all over your face, I get really excited !'' He giggled, his usual smirk on.

          Well, it wasn't for long, since (Y/N) noticed he was hard enough for her to sit back on him, riding him. She took him all in one go, as if to shut him up, and that made him gasp very loudly, a little squeak escaping in the process. He looked at her, his smile now gone. ''Oh my God, I can feel it getting harder !'' The girl said, giggling as she was resting her hands on the boy's thighs. ''Be happy about it.'' He only replied, even though he didn't really need to add anything.

As she started to bounce on Neito, (Y/N) could feel the cum that was left on her face getting colder, and that was much less comfortable than when it had just be shot at her. Maybe she looked disturbed by it, since the blonde stopped her in her tracks, grabbing a towel they had prepared in advance to clean her face. Only their heavy breaths could be heard, at that moment. ''There is a movie night this weekend, right ?'' Neito asked, out of the blue.

The girl only nodded, helping him clean her face. ''I've prepared something for you already.'' He said, proud of himself as his cocky smile was back. But as usual, it wasn't for long as (Y/N) started to bounce back on him, making him bite his lower lip so he wouldn't make too much noise.

He loved (Y/N) being teased because of her loud moans, but it wasn't the same thing when he was the one being teased. As the blonde started to thrust his hips up to match her pace, the girl held him in place with one hand, still without forcing. Thus, he stopped naturally, just confused.

''Why ?'' He only asked, coughing on his own moans now that she was going in a rougher pace. ''Funnier.'' She only replied, out of breath, making the blonde smile and grab and breast, since he couldn't match her. However, as he felt her getting more and more excited, he decided to still had some friction to her clit. She had been nice.

However, as she felt his length twitch inside of her, (Y/N) stayed up, going very slow, resting at his tip only. When she almost stopped, she smiled, bending over the blonde. He gasped, out of breath. ''No, no, please please please, don't stop now !'' He said. He sounded so desperate. ''You're such a sub.'' She replied, joking. But with one hard thrust against him, she made him cum immediately. Surely the fact that she had almost stopped helped.

Feeling his hot seed being spilled inside of her, and his fingers still adding some friction to her lower parts since he was trembling from his own orgasm, (Y/N) came right after. She held his chest to catch her breath, as he was now laying, his back against the mattress. He couldn't stay sat anymore. Once they were both breathing in a regular way again, Neito spoke up, caressing the girl's arm's soft skin with his hand. Still, he was looking at the ceiling, focused on a random point.

''Can I stay here tonight ? I'm lazy. Nobody's shocked by my presence anymore, anyway.'' (Y/N) only rolled her eyes before standing up, putting her pyjamas on after cleaning herself. ''Yeah, sure.'' Well, that was better than usual. She was addicted to the 'yeah, whatever'. And here, she had said 'sure'. That made the blonde laugh, his hysterical face immediately showing up.

''AHAH ! You said 'sure' ! You like me ! You want me to stay !'' He was only replied by a pillow being thrown at his face. It lowkey hurt. But he didn't mind, she was going to pay during the movie night, anyway.

wow okay part 2 will include : spit, cockwarming, public sex lowkey and some temperature play yeay

tagging @heroprose cause I saw your comment 😗

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 30

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

read on ao3

1914

i can't live in a fairytale of lies

and i can't hide from the feeling cause it's right

Tensions were high in the Mustang household.

Roy spent more time in his work office after hours than was usual. He was planning, organising an attack, for what, Riza wasn’t privy to just yet. Her main focus was keeping Mia distracted and entertained so Roy could work in some semblance of peace, however even that was becoming more of a struggle for her nowadays. Her lower back was almost in constant pain by the time they were sitting down to dinner. Riza fatigued more quickly and her brain was frazzled. Headaches pestered her throughout the day, completely unwelcome, from two different fronts.

On one hand, she was nearing the end of her pregnancy, which was a blessing. According to the doctor yesterday, the child was at full term and could come at any time, even though she still had a few weeks until her due date. Riza would welcome that wholeheartedly. The aches and pains were a lot worse this time around than they were with Mia.

On the other hand, her final teaching exam had been looming. Throughout the day she had notes spread across every surface as she studied and crammed for it. Looking after Mia while Roy ‘unofficially’ worked in the evening was nothing Riza would ever complain about, however it would have been nice to have had the extra energy afterwards to at least look over some notes while in bed. By the time her head hit the pillow she was asleep.

After taking the exam, a huge weight was lifted off Riza’s shoulders. Then the nerves kicked in, waiting for results. The professor had advised it would take a few weeks to get back to them all, but Riza just wanted to know. She wanted to be successful. After years of work, she wanted it to pay off. It had been two weeks since the exam.

Despite working harder, Roy was as attentive as ever. He was worrying about her. Riza reassured she was fine, just exhausted. Roy thought she was stressed. Admittedly, Riza did think that was true as well. She was aware that would be bad for the baby but with everything hitting at once, and them not being able to do anything about the timing, it didn’t leave Riza with much choice. Powering through as best she could, Riza managed to juggle everything. Roy still fought to get away from his home office to help with Mia, however the ringing phone would draw him back to plan. With a defeated aura, he’d trudge back through and continue working.

Riza was incredibly curious. Roy would tell her when he was ready what was going on, but every day that passed and with every overheard snippet of conversation, the desire to know didn’t let up. It was so mysterious. She’d barely been awake enough recently for him to get a chance.

The ringing phone dragged Riza’s attention away from cooking dinner.

“I’ll get it,” Roy’s disembodied voice called through from the direction of his office. Followed by a muffled thump and a quiet curse as he tripped over or banged into something.

Snorting, Riza nodded and left him to it, rolling her sore shoulders. The stretching of the skin brought quick relief as she stirred the pot in front of her. A wave of heat washed over her, prickling sweat on her brow which was hastily swiped away with the back of her hand.

“Riza, it’s for you,” Roy called through.

That stumped her. She wasn’t expecting a call –

Was it her results?

“Mia, stay away from the oven, okay?” Riza turned the heat down low as her heart thudded inside her chest. It battered against her ribcage relentlessly as she entered the hall. Even more so when Roy shot her a grin and a thumbs up. He knew just how much she was waiting on the call from her professor.

With shaking hands, she took the phone from him. Roy winked and skirted around her, walking through to the kitchen to check on their dinner.

“Hello?”

“Riza,” a warm voice greeted her. “It’s Professor Stevenson.”

This is it.

“Hello, Professor.”

“I come bearing good news,” he chuckled, “although I knew before even grading your test you would pass with flying colours. My assumptions were correct. Congratulations, Riza! You passed!”

A light blush warmed her cheeks upon hearing the compliment, before elation completely overtook her entire being.

She’d passed.

“I passed?” She had to make sure.

“You did, yes,” the Professor confirmed, an amused lilt in his voice.

She’d passed.

“Thank you…” Riza trailed off. She wasn’t sure what else to say, too relieved just to finally know. Shoulders sagged as her posture slouched. A light laugh left her, happy and content that she no longer needed to worry and wait on the verdict. She felt free from it. Finally.

“I will be sending your certification over to Central University today,” Professor Stevenson announced. “It should arrive within a few days, but I will call you and inform you once it has been delivered, if that would suit you?”

“That would be very appreciative, thank you.” Riza tried not to gush but it was hard. She couldn’t wait to tell Roy.

“Not a problem, Riza. Any questions please do not hesitate to give my office a call. I’ll be back in touch in the next week or so about your next steps now that you’re a fully certified teacher. Congratulations.”

Riza quickly bid him farewell and hung up the phone. She rushed through to the kitchen, the hot flush from earlier hitting again as the wall of heat from the cooking food curled around her skin. Riza didn’t care that sweat was gathering on her brow or in her hands. Her eyes found Roy’s and everything else melted away, now that her results were finally sinking in.

“Well?” He was grinning expectantly. Given that Riza could not keep the beaming smile off her face no matter how hard she tried, he still waited for her to announce her news.

“I passed!”

Roy whooped loudly, causing Mia and Hayate to jump in fright at the volume. His arms wrapped around her shoulders tightly with a laugh as he rocked her side to side in his pride.

“Yes! I’m so proud of you,” he laughed in her ear. “I told you you’d nail it!”

“You did,” she laughed as her smile wobbled. Tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffed.

“Are you crying?” He laughed in disbelief, swiping away a tear with his thumb as he cooed softly, pulling her tightly into his embrace. “Oh, Riza!”

“Shut up,” she mumbled petulantly, burying her face into his chest with a laugh.

“Are you unhappy, Mummy?” Mia bit her lip hard, her knuckles white as she gripped the arm of her chair.

“No, Mia, she’s not unhappy,” Roy answered for her. “She’s extremely happy! They’re happy tears.”

Riza was grateful. Another laugh left her, remembering how prone to crying she’d been right after Mia was born. Groaning internally, she hoped that didn’t happen again. Rebecca had teased her about it but this time Roy would never let her live it down.

“Happy tears? Like when you told me you were having another baby?”

“Yes, just like that,” Roy answered as his hands rubbed up and down Riza’s arms. “Mummy passed her big exam so now she’s a teacher!”

Mia gasped and clapped together, eyes twinkling with glee. “Does that mean she’ll become my teacher? That would be so cool!”

“Not right now, Mia,” Roy laughed at her enthusiasm. “She has to wait a little bit but one day soon Mum will be teaching in a school just like yours.”

“Oh, wow!”

Riza pulled away from Roy, seeing his grin and the pride on his face. He pecked her on the nose, cupping her cheeks in his hands firmly.

“Congratulations, love,” he murmured. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, proud of you Mum!” Mia called to her from her chair at the table. Looking over Roy’s shoulder, she saw the bright smile on Mia’s face.

“Thank you,” Riza breathed, her eyes meeting Roy’s again.

He flashed her a grin. “We must celebrate!”

*          *          *

Riza walked through the streets of Central at sunset. The air was cold but at least there was no wind to chill her completely. Still, the winter jacket was pulled tighter around her neck, ensuring it was buttoned right up to the top. Readjusting her scarf, she picked up the pace to walk to Central University. Fingers flexed inside gloves, trying to move some heat to the cooler tips.

The university wasn’t far from home. The main campus was a few streets over, barely a ten minute walk. Roy had offered to drive her to the university, however Mia had homework that needed to be completed for tomorrow. So, after not venturing too far out of the house in recent weeks due to their hectic home life, Riza wanted to get out and go for a walk. It was easily manageable, even with her aches and pains, however they weren’t as ailing today as they had been recently.

Sucking in a deep breath, Riza enjoyed the light burn it left in her airways, smelling the cold in the air and the aftermath of the rain from earlier in the afternoon.

He hovered of course, as Riza slipped on her shoes, but she felt fine and wanted to go out and get some fresh air. The peace of the walk would do her good after what felt like running around after everyone at home for the past few days. Pouting, Roy had relented, easing up. A flash of irritation spiked within her chest at the assumption that she needed an escort to go anywhere, but Riza calmed herself. He just cared, that was all. Aftering being starved of it throughout childhood, Riza reminded herself that it was a nice feeling to experience, despite how worried he could be about the little things. Shaking her head fondly as she walked, Riza felt a warmth spread across her chest. Roy loved her and cared about her, that’s why he hovered.

As directed, Riza asked for her certification from the front desk. Idle wandering left her scanning the notice boards in the reception area while the receptionist exited into a room behind her to pick out Riza’s post. There was nothing interesting, some flyers for events that had already passed, but their posters forgotten about and neglected to be removed.

“Mrs. Mustang!”

Turning, confused, Riza stopped dead when she spotted who’d called her name.

Fuhrer Bradley was smiling broadly at her underneath his moustache, his one eye closed with happy cheer. A woman was standing next to him, her fair brown hair falling past her shoulders and pale pink dress skimming the bottom of the ground. A white jacket covered her shoulders, along with a scarf in the same blue as the Amestrian Military uniform. That was Mrs. Bradley, Riza realised in shock. And the small boy who’d shot her a smile was their son, Selim.

“What a coincidence running into you here,” Bradley chuckled in amusement as he approached.

Riza didn’t trust him one bit.

“Hello, Sir,” she greeted with respect.

This man, after all Roy had told her about his treatment of him and the threats that had been made upon her, deserved none of her reverence, however she couldn’t make things worse for Roy. She’d continue to play along and play oblivious to it all. That was the smart thing to do.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine, Sir.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” His expression was nothing but open and friendly. A ploy. “I trust your husband is recovering well from his injury?”

“He is, yes. Thank you for asking.”

“Good. I have not had the chance to drop in on him recently to ask personally. Could I ask you to pass on my regards?” His pointed stare felt like a message. Instead of the fear Riza had experienced initially, all she felt now was disgust and irritation.

“Of course, Sir,” Riza replied smoothly. Roy would definitely hear she’d run into Fuhrer Bradley tonight. “I know he will appreciate that from you.”

“Marvellous,” the Fuhrer beamed. “And I have been incredibly rude, I apologise.” Turning to his left, he motioned towards his wife and child. “This is my wife, Clarisse Bradley, and my son, Selim.”

“A pleasure,” Mrs. Bradley greeted warmly, so different from the hidden identity of her husband. As Riza took her offered hand and shook it, she quietly wondered if Mrs. Bradley was aware of what her husband was, or if she was unfortunate enough to be oblivious to it all.

“It’s very good to meet you, Ma’am,” Selim beamed. “I’ve heard all about your husband! He’s a hero!”

Riza almost flinched but caught herself. That was not a title Roy liked to go by in the slightest.

“Thank you,” Riza smiled politely, offering the child no more than that.

“Selim,” the Fuhrer admonished lightly for his enthusiasm.

“Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly.

“It’s all right,” Bradley assured. “We must be going. We have a private tour of the premises scheduled for this evening. Mrs. Mustang, it was lovely to see you again.”

His single eye flashed as his wife and son offered Riza the same sentiment. It was a warning. For what, Riza didn’t know. She just hoped she would never run into him ever again. With every look he gave her it made her skin crawl.

They left the reception area, walking down a hallway further into the University. Riza watched them leave as Selim excitedly whispered about meeting a family member of the Flame Alchemist. Patiently, his father tried to calm him as Mrs. Bradley smiled fondly.

“Riza Mustang?” The receptionist called to her quietly, probably wondering if she raised her voice to a normal level, it would startle Riza. It was certainly a possibility.

Giving herself a shake, Riza shelved the surprise meeting for the moment and shook off the uncomfortable feeling it left her with. Smiling, she thanked the receptionist and took the manila envelope from her hands. Inside was her teaching certification.

The receptionist sat back down in her chair and returned her attention to the notes on the desk, Riza already forgotten as she continued to work.

With shaking hands, Riza unsealed the envelope and opened it up, extracting the certificate inside slowly and carefully. Unsettling conversation forgotten, Riza smiled and felt some relief as she read the paper, citing her as a teacher. Finally. Nestled between shining gold leaf and beautiful swirls of black ink, Riza’s name was printed proudly on the dotted line.

Stepping back into the cold autumn night, Riza shivered, tucking the envelope underneath her arm. Winter was almost here. After being inside, the chill tugged at the exposed skin of her face, nipping painfully, as it fought to invade through her layers. Soon, frost would cover the concrete and the grass, creating a delightful crunch underfoot as everyone walked through it.

The campus was empty as she walked across it. In the night, the long, bare branches on the trees would look menacing to a child if they were to come across them. Like something from a scary story. They reached tall into the sky, often silhouetted by the lamps lining the walkway underneath Riza. Clouds hid away the moon in sporadic intervals, darkening the sky for a long bout once she reached the other end of the campus. A gentle breeze had kicked up, so she ducked underneath a sheltered walkway, glancing up at the sky to see the moon hidden from view once more. Walking here would mean a slightly longer walk home, but Riza decided she felt physically able enough to handle it, so relished in her extra time to herself. Heading in the opposite direction of home, Riza took her time and enjoyed it.

Suddenly, as she neared the road she had to cross to reach home, something felt… off. Riza couldn’t place it, and her brow furrowed as she approached the crossing, still underneath the shelter of the walkway. It felt like she was being watched. Subtly glancing around, she saw no one. Opening up her ears and focussing on that sense more so than her others, she heard no footsteps either.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have taken the small detour...

“Mrs. Mustang.”

Riza stuttered to a stop. She froze in place, fear seizing every muscle in her body. She recognised that voice from a short while ago, but there was an otherworldly quality to it. It echoed, like it was multiple voices speaking at once, but that was impossible. Only Selim Bradley spoke with a voice as innocent as that… However, this was anything but innocent. It sounded evil. The hair on the back of Riza’s neck stuck up in a warning, her instincts screaming at her to run. Trying to take a step, her feet were stuck, glued to the concrete beneath her feet.

“Please, remain still,” the boy commanded gently. “Things will be much easier for you if you did.”

Her heels relaxed and lowered back onto the ground, ankles succumbing to a sudden pressure, like someone was gripping them tightly. A breath was sucked into her lungs and she let it go slowly. Her free hand formed a fist, clenched tightly by her side.

“Selim?” Her eyes darted ahead, searching every crevice for where the boy may be hiding, but there was no sign of him. The cars in the distance continued to pass by, oblivious to what was happening under the darkened shelter.

“That’s right,” he answered, that voice echoing in the suddenly deathly silent night. Riza focussed, determining he was behind her, hidden out of view. “Although Pride is another name I go by. The First Homunculus. That’s the more preferable one, actually.”

Homunculus.

Suddenly, the shadows elongated in front of where she was standing with a darkness that was not natural. A large eye appeared, staring up at her. It was so unsettling, Riza shifted and wanted to turn and run. It was horrifying to look at, leaving her feeling violated as it stared relentlessly, unblinking.

Despite being urged to remain still, her flight response kicked in. Still unable to move, a pressure surrounded Riza’s wrists while another crawled up her ankles and calves, rooting her. Something tightened around her neck, shifting the fabric of her scarf gently, but not constricting enough to cause any pain. Just discomfort. Eyes widening, Riza felt true fear and a sweat broke out over her entire body.

“Please tell your husband that we say hello,” Selim purred.

The pressure around her wrists tightened and Riza felt warmth. Something bit into her skin, cutting into her flesh cleanly. She was sure he’d somehow managed to draw blood, but with what? The restrictions on her neck reminded her not to move to look down and examine the fresh wound. If it could cut into flesh that easily then she wouldn’t risk it.

“I told you it would be easier if you remained still,” Selim snickered as the pressure disappeared from her wrists.

Riza felt she could breathe easier as it did so, however, suddenly the pressure around her neck increased the smallest amount. Choking on her breath, Selim shushed her violently. Out the corner of her eye, Riza saw a black tendril of… of something appear, moving towards her cheek. It flicked towards her, like one would do to an irritation, and Riza felt it swipe at the skin of her cheek. Biting her lip, Riza squeezed her eyes tightly closed as she fought to remain as still as she could. Angering whatever this thing was would do her no favours at all.

“What do you want?” She pushed the words out of her throat, focussing on getting as much information out of the boy as she possibly could. But this was no boy. This… thing was something else entirely.

“Just to say hello. And now, it is time for me to leave.”

The restraints on Riza tightened for the tiniest second, all doing so together, cutting off her airway. Another choked breath left her, then the restraints disappeared. The shadows and the enormous eye disappeared in a flash, muting into nothingness.

“Tell him we say hello,” the boy whispered into the evening air. “And nothing else. We will be watching,” it threatened, fading out completely into silence.

Riza stumbled, spinning in place on shaky legs as she frantically searched for the sweet young boy she’d met only a short while ago. He was nowhere to be seen.

Just like his father, Selim Bradley was not as he seemed.

Rubbing the muscles of her sore neck, Riza panted for breath, eyes wide.

What just happened?

Her knees trembled as she struggled to catch her breath. Finally able to flee, she blindly walked to the road, electing not to cross but just to get away from the university campus. Riza didn’t even notice she was walking in the direction away from home. The hairs on her neck still refused to flatten down and her stomach roiled with unease.

Something trickled down her cheek gently, the smarting pain finally registering in her startled brain. Lifting a hand, she swiped at the wetness, feeling a slick liquid coat her fingers. In the lamplight above, Riza saw blood.

[mrs--wheels]

I made a human.

Yes, I made a human.  I gave birth to a baby boy!  Here’s my birth story: On Wednesday July 14th I went for my routine 36 week OB-Gyn checkup.  At that visit they did a sonogram and everything looked normal, baby was in the 46th percentile for size.  The Dr. checked my cervix and I was 2 cm dilated already.  My blood pressure was high, which it had been for 6 weeks, but I did not have preeclampsia (yet - I was borderline.)  The Dr. took me off work and said if I did not deliver by next week Thursday July 22 I would need to be induced.  My blood pressure was causing really bad swelling everywhere in my body, but especially my calves, ankles, feet and wrists.  I weighed 251 lbs at the checkup, about 55 lbs heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight.  So I went into work with my disability form all filled out and basically peaced out, said goodbye to a few of my coworkers and my boss, and I ain’t lookin’ back.  I went home, much to my husband’s surprise (he was working from home that day.)  I’d like to say I enjoyed the last week of my pregnancy but that’s not entirely true.  I was in terrible discomfort, especially my pelvis: I was having bad pelvic pain & pressure, so bad I could barely walk. The night of Monday July 19th I could hardly walk up the stairs to my bed, it hurt so bad.  I did have surprisingly restful night’s sleep that night, which was good because of what was to come... At 5 am on Tuesday July 20th, I rolled over in bed and felt a wetness.  Unsure if I peed myself or if my water broke, I went into the bathroom.  Clear fluid was running down my legs, and it didn’t smell like pee.  The puddle on my sheets didn’t either.  I called the OB-Gyn’s office from the bathroom. and the Dr. on call told me if contractions started on their own to head into the hospital.  If they didn’t start on their own, head in anyway but wait until after 8:30, 9 am.  So I took a shower, made some toast & a banana for breakfast, and unloaded the dishwasher.  Around 6 am I had my first contractions, but they weren’t too strong and they were about 7 or 8 minutes apart.  I woke up my husband and told him I thought my water broke, and I was having contractions.  He leapt out of bed and into the shower.  As I lay on the bed waiting for him, the contractions were coming closer together (4-5 minutes apart) and getting stronger.  My husband got dressed and I called my mom.  She said she’d meet us at the hospital and we grabbed the overnight bags and diaper bag and went straight to the hospital. My husband drove like a panicked maniac, and I was gritting my teeth in the passenger seat with every contraction.  We got to the hospital and I refused to let my husband get me a wheelchair, I wanted to walk in on my own.  I had a contraction in the parking lot and barely made it to the 2nd floor to Labor & Delivery.  By now it was around 7:30 am.  They took me into a triage room for a  workup, I changed into a gown, and a nurse put the fetal heart monitor on me.  I got to listen to that little galloping horse heartbeat, nice and strong.  In came a Dr. and 2 students, they did a history on me and after a very uncomfy pelvic exam it was determined I was 8 cm dilated and fully effaced!  (The student who first checked me said I was 4 cm... the actual Dr determined it was 8... kind of a big difference!)  The contractions were pretty much on top of each other by now, only a minute apart.  I was moved straight into the delivery room, without stopping in a labor room first. This was at around 9:30 am maybe? I got to 10 cm in less than than 2 hours, and ready to push.  I didn’t even have a hospital bracelet or an IV, things were moving way too fast.  The Dr. showed up fully gowned, and they got me on the table and ready to go.  This was the first time my mom was able to see me, she’d been waiting over an hour, since I was expected to be in labor a lot longer! I was ready to push at just before 10 am and I was absolutely terrified, I was so not ready.  I had a birth plan packed in my overnight bag.  In it, I requested an epidural.  I wanted pain meds, to be able to sleep and rest during labor... My husband brought his laptop, we had a bluetooth speaker ready to play music in the delivery room... All of this was shot right out the window.  I was terrified of the prospect of pushing, terrified of the pain.  I felt like I had to take a massive poop, and even screamed “I’m gonna poop!” in the delivery room.  My mom and the Dr were like “Just do it! That’s the baby coming out!”  I pushed maybe a dozen times? Twice for every contraction.  I squeezed my husband’s hand and felt my mom’s hand on my forehead.  I was drenched in sweat from head to toe and shaking like crazy.  They told me not to scream, that I was wasting energy I needed to funnel into pushing -  but, like, ok, it hurts!  I was hurling 4-letter words (and I never swear around my mom,) and gripping onto the back of the pillow under my head (which didn’t help the poor nurse still trying to stick an IV in my arm - they blew a vein in my left hand and ended up putting the IV in my right wrist - normally I’m bad with needles but I was in so much pain I didn’t even care.)  The fetal heart monitor wasn’t working anymore, because the baby was moving down the birth canal.  The excess skin & fluid on my lower abdomen made it difficult to get a reading, so a nurse was literally pushing the monitor hard into my belly, while I was trying to push at the same time.  Eventually they used an internal monitor, this thing that looks like a cattle prod that attached to the top of the baby’s head, under the scalp, through the cervix.  Luckily I didn’t know that had happened until after he was born. After about 15 minutes of pushing, and my poor crying husband looking like he was about to pass out (he hates seeing me in pain.) I gave birth to a baby boy at 10:14 am.  It’s the most bizarre feeling in the world: like I was a bottle of champagne and he was the cork.  I could feel everything since I had no drugs, the baby’s head and shoulders popping out and the gush of fluids afterwards. I did need a few stitches, I had a second degree tear, but I never felt that or the placenta being delivered. The whole room was in a flurry, there was at least 1 dozen people there - the Dr, an instructor, several students, nurses and my mom & husband.  I was the talk of labor & delivery that day: the first-timer who came in at 7:30 and had a baby less than 3 hours later.  The baby was put right on my chest after he was born.  I had my eyes closed pretty much the entire time I had been pushing, but I opened them when I felt that warm, wiggly little baby on me.  He was absolutely beautiful, rosy pink and screaming.  My husband said he was born with his eyes open, arms and legs flailing, and a very healthy set of lungs.  He scored a 9 on his one-minute Apgar and a 9 on the 5-minute too: the highest score you can get!  He weighed 6 lbs, 8 oz and was 20.25 inches long.  My husband cut the cord (squeamishly) and my mom and him just gushed over this perfect little guy.  I was exhausted but exhilarated, I felt triumphant!  I had given birth with no drugs, all natural, and made it out to tell the tale. I had no idea my body was capable of that, but it knew more than I did.... We (me, my mom, and my husband) were able to stay in the delivery room for 2 hours after the baby’s birth.  We finally agreed on a name (well, I proposed the name and wouldn’t take no for an answer - after all, who had just given birth anyways?)  We decided on Owen Paul.  Owen because I love the name and it means “warrior”, and Paul after my brother who passed away 19 years ago.  It somehow fits him perfectly, he looks like an Owen.  He’s got beautiful red-gold hair that swirls on his head, and dark blue eyes that I’m hoping stay that color.  I was able to start nursing him right away (my nursing journey is a story for another time, though...) and we were all able to bond.  It was a wonderful experience, and it is true what they say: you forget all the pain once you lay eyes on the little miracle.  Maybe it’s the huge rush of hormones that causes this amnesia, but it really is true.  I’d do it all over again!

I’ve lost nearly all the weight I gained during pregnancy, since it was pretty much all baby, placenta, amniotic fluid and the fluid that was blowing me up like a balloon.  I’m not in any pain, even with the stitiches. I only took a few Tylenol the first couple of days, I guess I have a pretty high tolerance!  I’m feeling good, all things considered, and healthy.  It’s nice not to have that constant pelvic pain anymore. Owen is going to be 2 weeks old tomorrow, and it’s been a huge adjustment (an obvious understatement.)  The days are long, but the years will be short - everyone tells me that.  It’s frustrating, and miserable and so so so tiring.  But they are only babies for such a short time, I plan on enjoying every minute of him!  He’s the best thing I’ve ever made.

[lilymanaged]

just a little bit of your heart

hello its me, ya girl, back with fic

okay so this was originally supposed to be part of a longer fic, but I lost the motivation because I moved tf on (there was a boy, he sucked, I began to write, then I realized that he was not worth my energy so I stopped), but I really kinda like this bit so here is it! in the original fic, there was supposed to a redemption arc, but obviously that isn't going to happen. enjoy anyway!

AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

It started when she was fifteen.

She had known him before, of course - hard not to know someone who lives just across the common room from you, who was so visible at all times, who was so beloved by students and teachers alike. He was the star of the Quidditch team already, lapping the upperclassmen in skill and devotion. He was the top of the class, naturally smart and hardworking. He Was...and she Was Not. And that’s just the way it was.

Something had changed that day, mid-January, Charms classroom. It was bitterly cold outside, but the castle was warm and bright.

Maybe it was the light from the fire lit behind Professor Flitwick’s desk, or the snow falling gently outside the castle, or maybe Lily had just tilted her head to the perfect angle that her hair fell off her shoulder to reveal her neck in an appealing way, but he approached her as she was packing up her things, halting her movements. She looked at him, wide-eyed, and he smiled charmingly down at her.

“Hey,” James said, voice deep. She shivered. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I am really just not understanding mobility charms. You know, summoning, banishing, those kinds of things. Would you mind helping me out a bit later? You’re the only person here who seems to get it.”

Lily’s mouth responded before her brain could catch up. “And what’s in it for me? I don’t reveal my secrets for just anyone, and definitely not for free.”

He chuckled, eyes alight with mirth. “Name your price.”

Lily blushed, stepping back a little. He shifted his weight forward, almost following her, and watched intently as she gathered her books into her arms, pressing them against her chest tightly in a vague attempt to force her heart to slow.

“Flying lessons,” she said, shocking herself a little. “My secrets for yours.”

He nodded, stepping fully into her space. At this point, they were the only ones left in the classroom, the rest of the students on their way to lunch already.

“My secrets for yours,” he repeated, reaching out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’re dangerous, Red.” Lily’s eyes widened, staring up at him in disbelief. His gaze shifted downward, searching her face and causing her flush to deepen.

“Dangerous?” she replied, voice faint.

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes locking with hers. “Dangerous. For me. I’ll see you later.”

With that, he stepped away, looking over her one more time before turning and exiting the classroom. Lily slumped back down to her stool, placing her books on the table and pressing her forehead to them. She struggled to catch her breath and slow her erratic heart, cursing James Potter mildly in her head, dreading what might happen later.

What she had originally written off as a minor crush, maybe a physical attraction, soon bloomed into full-blown infatuation. Their study sessions stopped being study sessions very quickly, turning into conversations that left Lily shaking slightly under his intense attention. James was nothing if not engrossed in everything she had to say, and she often felt herself losing focus when his eyes met hers, burning with curiosity or confusion. Although they never got anywhere with the flying, really, Lily felt herself being less reluctant to share her so-called secrets as time went on. As long as James kept looking at her that way, he could frankly have whatever he wanted from her.

Which is why, come March, she had given him almost every piece of her heart, despite his lack of asking nor any confessed desire for it. Lily would all but float up to her dorm after spending time with James, gushing to Marlene and Dorcas about every word he said, every time his hand brushed hers, while Mary looked on warily.

“Lily, has he asked you out?” she asked one day in April, eyebrows knit as she sat next to Lily on the window seat of their dorm. The turret looked out onto the grounds, and Lily was looking over the grass, eyes glazed over dreamily, ignoring the book situated in her lap. They were supposed to be studying for their upcoming exams in June.  

“Hmm?”

“James, Lily. Has he asked you out yet?” Mary continued, eyes searching Lily’s face.

Lily’s brows knit together, and her smile dropped a bit. “No, Mare. He hasn’t.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Lily shifted in her seat, refusing to meet Mary’s eyes. After a moment, she looked up, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied, exasperated, voice thick. “I don’t know.”

Mary turned toward Lily, pulling her friend into her arms. She allowed Lily to cry, stroking her hair gently until the sobs subsided. After a while, Lily pulled away, standing up.

“I think I’m just going to go to bed. Can we study tomorrow?” Mary nodded, and Lily walked away. She climbed into bed, pulling the canopy curtains closed abruptly.

The next morning, Lily was hyper-aware of James, and actively forced herself to be positive around him, upbeat. He sat beside her at breakfast, laughing at all her snarky jokes and playing with the ends of her hair. She felt Mary’s eyes on her, and resolutely ignored her, choosing instead to focus on the positive: James was right beside her, and it felt like she was bathing in his warm glow. Internally, she felt pathetic, vying for any scrap of love he would throw her way, but she was also resolutely ignoring that feeling.

Lily was focusing on the positive.

She was positive that this was going to crush her when it was all over.

And then, everything was fine until it wasn’t. The next year passed in a blur, and nothing changed between them. Lily watched as James dated other people, anyone who wasn’t her, while still calling her his best girl, holding her close and yet an arm’s length away. She tells herself that he is scared - scared of the depth of emotion between them, the absolute understanding that exists when they look at one another. He calls her dangerous to him, a minx sent to drive him crazy, tells her that she’s worth a million of him, places her on a pedestal when all she wants is for him to reach over and take her, choose her, love her. And yet, he never does quite pick her.

A little after Christmas of their fifth year, Lily gets mad and starts to date too, fueled by a desire to show him how it feels, show him what he is missing. Bertram Aubrey, a Ravenclaw in the year above them, agrees to a date to Hogsmeade and, before she even realizes it, she actually starts to like him. Spending time with Aubrey takes her away from James, and the horrible, heartsick feeling he represents. Bert is kind to her, attentive, enjoys her company. And so, she lets it happen.

She is happy with Bert, she realises one day in early April. The feeling takes her aback — she didn’t know she would really feel happy with someone who wasn’t James — and she decides she likes it. She tells Bert, and he is elated, kissing her breathless in the hallway in front of everyone. She smiles brightly at him, and ignores the lingering sensation of guilt in the back of her mind.

And everything is fine, until it isn’t.

Because now, here she is, standing by the Lake after their Transfiguration OWL, staring James down. He’s laughing, and his friends laugh with him. Snape is shouting abuse, and then she is too, telling James to leave Severus alone.

He will, he says, smile widening as he looks at her. It’s a nice smile, and Lily’s heart beats a little faster when she sees it. She quickly admonishes herself, waiting for the punchline.

“....if you go out with me.”

She starts, face heating up, and the words hang in the air between them. He’s making fun of her, she realises, playing on the love that she keeps tucked away inside herself, Lily’s worst kept secret. Lily feels whatever is left of her heart inside her chest break, shatter into a million pieces right in front of his eyes, and shouts at him for the first time.

James stumbles back as if he had been smacked in the face, and Lily gets a little thrill in her chest at his shocked expression. She blacks out a little, emotions high as the exchange continues and Snape ends the last remote traces of their feeble friendship.

When she finally walks away, surface emotion a disgusted rage - at Snape, at James, and mostly at herself for thinking anything would ever change. She frantically makes her way all the way to her dorm, throwing herself on her bed, and unleashes all the pent up frustration and hurt. Her roommates return about a half hour later, presumably after hearing every detail of the big showdown, to the room absolutely trashed. Lily allowed the magic to flow through her, and it resulted in slashed curtains, broken pillows, shoes and clothes littering the floor. Mary and Emmeline curl themselves around her in her bed and Marlene and Dorcas put the room to rights, and Lily cries until she falls asleep. Later, when she looks back on that afternoon by the Lake, Lily recognizes it as the true end of her childhood — any lingering optimism or romantic hopes had shattered the moment her heart did.