#it got a bit lost between the sickness and stress and everything of last year

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - No winner.

Warning : drug and blood mention, talking about dying, stress

Genre : fluff / angst

Synopsis : You get anxious after the mingle game and Thanos tries to comfort you in his own way.

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English. // I said (to y’all in my head) I wouldn’t write for squid game or Thanos but this fic came to me as I tried to sleep. Not as great as how I imagined it but it’s because I had to wait a day to write it. Don’t expect more fics for this fandom, this was an exception.

You knew Subong since you were kids, before you even got to school and even before his interest in rap. But despite this, you always had an on and off friendship over the years. Constantly arguing and separating only to come back to one another after some time.

His extravagant personality could often clash with your introverted one, and things got even more unstable between you two when he started his rap career and it got only worse with drugs.

He never asked you for money though, even after he lost everything, knowing you too had money troubles.

You didn’t expect to see him here, you knew he had lost all his money because of that YouTuber, but you didn’t think that man would’ve gone after your friend. You felt a bit relieved to see someone you knew, though the last time you saw him, you two had a fight. It was your fault. You said, a bit too tactless, that ‘it was stupid in the first place to listen to some random guy on the internet and trust him with all your money.’

He had only appeared for a few seconds on the giant screen, putting his vape in his mouth, before it showed someone else. You looked around you, trying to make yourself a path to find him amongst the hundreds of people in the room. You spotted his purple hair and called him, as he turned around and saw you, his eyes widened.

“My man !” He exclaimed, raising his hands in the air, walking toward you. “What are you doing here ?!” He asked, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you and then hugging you.

You weren’t really surprised, you’d often argue and leave mad only to see each other the next day and act as if nothing happened.

Since then, two days had passed, and by the third you were at your limit. The mingle game was over, Namgyu and some other player walked out of their room while you and Thanos walked out of yours.

“Welcome back, my friends.” Thanos said loudly, and Namgyu followed with a “Skrrt.” as he joined you two.

You sighed as you looked at all the blood splattered on the floor, you noticed a few players slipping on the puddles, making you sick to the stomach.

You all walked back to the lobby as they announced the imminence of the next vote.

While you waited, Thanos was sitting next to you, talking animatedly with Namgyu who acted just as energetic as him, you could tell the pills they had both taken were still doing their magic and the more you heard them talk about what the next games could be, the more you zoned out, spiraling.

There were three games left, and so many people were alive. Sure, a lot of them would die, but it won't be enough, right ? They surely won’t let a large group of people out of this place, so the games will probably be deadlier, and you know you won’t survive three more games.

You were the only one on the side of the room who had voted X, it was on your chest since the first vote. You looked at Minsu who eyed player 380, you knew he wanted to vote X like you, but he seemed too scared of Namgyu and Thanos to do so. Minsu seemed to look up to her, maybe he she voted X he would too ? But how could you make her vote X ?

So many people have voted O and all of them were dead set to keep on voting the same thing.

You felt even more trapped than you already were. Your heartbeat was increasing as you frantically tried to find a way out of here, to win, to escape somehow, looking around at whoever. Would he vote X ? And her ? And them ? No, maybe him ?

Namgyu saw you looking everywhere and gestured to Thanos who placed a hand on the back of your neck, stopping your thoughts.

“What’s going on my brother ?” He asked loudly, voice devoid of any stress or worry.

All eyes slowly turned to you. You looked at Thanos, the blue O on his chest. He never got mad at you for voting X, knowing you wouldn’t change your mind, you were as stubborn as him.

‘We’re all gonna die’. You wanted to say, but nothing came out. Instead your breathing got louder as everyone’s focus remained on you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re never gonna get out of here alive.

“Bro ?” Thanos called, his other hand going to your cheeks, squeezing them in hope for a reaction. “You there ?” He leaned closer, his eyes scanning yours but instead of giving him a reaction you just stood up and left, walking and climbing to your bed before hiding under the thin blanket.

Thanos looked at the others, they were as surprised as him but said nothing, they had already caught on what was going on.

“The fuck ?”

After a few minutes you heard someone approaching, climbing on your bed and laying next to you. You already knew who it was ; Thanos.

“What’s wrong, man ?” He asked, shaking you slightly. “Sleeping your anxiety away ? You’re still doing that ?” He laughed, remembering the time you admitted why you took so many naps.

You don’t respond.

“Come on, what’s going on ?" He nudged you again and with the lack of response he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer just to annoy you, he knew you wanted space, but he wasn’t going to give it to you.

“What’s bothering you ?” He held you tightly as you shifted, trying to pull away.

Finally, you gave up and poked your head out from the sheet, looking at him with a glare.

“Subong, we’re gonna die.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Woah, full government name.” He chuckled.

“It’s not, and I’m serious. It’s logical, so many people are still here, 001 kicked your ass in a second and he’s still alive with his group, with two marines, we can’t all survive, why would they allow that, only a handful if not just one is gonna survive and it’s not gonna be-”

“I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.” He said with a smile, confident in himself as he patted your head.

“You really think you can win.”

“It’s the rules, if we survive, we’re free. And debt free.”

“What if the rules say we have to make teams of two ?”

“I’ll help you win. I went with you in the mingle game, remember ?”

“But then we have to play against one another and the loser of the two dies.”

He stared at you before smiling and replying.

“Well, I guess you die.” He wiggled his eyebrows and booped your nose with his finger.

You rolled your eyes, unamused and turned away.

“I told you, I’ll protect you.” He added, snuggling closer to you. “We’ll survive, you’ll see.” He closed his eyes, relaxing with a smile.

“Can you let go of me ?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, moving your foot to kick him, only for him to kick you back.

“Shhh, accept the affection of the great legend Thanos.”

“Yucks.” You replied with a chuckle.

[indigodawns]

Best memory from last year?

ooohhh a few!! getting to ride a horse in the sea in greece has to very very much up there, but also different moments spent with different friends, including getting to see @tsnbrainrot again and spending a day with her in amsterdam, being reunited with @loveloveolivia and @intensedrarry TWICE, spending a day with two friends at an exhibition of korean sculptures and art, and driving these electric scooters around a forest with my high school friends. also listening to bts' proof album on a remote pier by myself. there must be more but these are the ones that came to mind right away!! do you have any?

[mountttmase]

a mason imagine where you’re pregnant with your second child and you tell your first child so you can surprise mason together, but one day he catches your first daughter drawing a family picture of you all and includes the second baby by accident and mason founds out you’re pregnant due to the drawing! super fluffy of course ☺️💗

Mummy’s Got One Growing Too

Note - so this fic obviously mentions pregnancy which if that’s not your thing then I totally get it but I absolutely loved writing this 🙊 would love to hear what you all think 💙

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4k

Warnings - fluffy fluff

Feeling dizzy and sick like you had been for the past few days wasn’t something you felt regularly. living with Mason meant you pretty much always made sure the pair of you were eating correctly, drinking enough and generally taking care of yourselves but you knew something had been off the past few weeks.

You were tired beyond belief, everything ached and you were loosing your appetite a bit but you’d put all this down to stress. Life in the Mount household had been far from perfect lately what with Masons injury and the current mess that was Chelsea football club. Looking after Mason whilst also trying to look after your four year old little boy at the same time was proving to be a lot to handle and it was seeming starting to show it’s self in physical symptoms.

The dizziness was new though and had only come on in the last few days. You kept it to yourself as not to add anything else onto Masons plate but it was growing harder to keep from him and only getting worse. That night you sat in bed whilst Mason was putting Ollie to sleep, promising to make yourself a doctors appointment in the morning.

‘Do you know where I put that new bottle of aftershave?’ Mason questioned as he walked into your room and you were quick to jump up to help him find it.

‘Yeah it should be-‘ you started but were quickly stopping. Holding onto your forehead as you grabbed onto whatever you could, which turned out to the mattress as you fell forward, legs turning to jelly as your head spun and a loud whooshing noise ran between your ears.

‘Baby?’ You faintly heard and you felt Masons hands on your thighs, turning your body around so you were sat on the bed properly but he let you come to on your own as not to push you too much but you could tell he was frightened about what he’d just seen. ‘Are you okay, love?’

‘Yeah, sorry’ you giggled, looking up at him once you felt somewhat normal, hoping to reassure him it was just a blip and you were alright. ‘Just lost my bearings a bit’

‘You sure?’ I haven’t seen you that dizzy since before Ollie was born’ he laughed and it was like everything clicked into place for you.

Could it be? Could you really be pregnant again?the pair of you had never exactly been careful but another baby wasn’t in your plans right now, and you were unsure if Mason wanted another one what with everything going on. You felt like it would be more stress to add onto his plate but you couldnt get to far ahead of yourself as Mason was standing back up.

‘Stay there, just tell me where it is and I’ll get it’ he chuckled and you gave him a soft smile before letting him know you’d put it in one of the drawers of his wardrobe. You left him to rummage around whilst you thought over what to do, thinking back to when your last period was but you were so panicky that you couldn’t think of when it was. What about tests, did you have any in the house? Would they even be in date and fine to use? ‘Are you sure you’re alright, love? You look white a sheet’ Mason spoke, interrupting you out of your crazed thoughts.

‘Yeah sorry, it’s just been a bit of a long day’ you chuckled, moving back in the bed so you could lay down before he slid in next to you.

‘Yeah? I know things have been a bit tense lately but you would tell me if something was wrong wouldn’t you?’

‘Of course’

‘Cause I love you a lot. Even if I haven’t been great at telling you or showing you how much lately’

‘Mase it’s-‘

‘Don’t say it’s fine. It’s not fine’ he told you, cupping your jaw as you stared back at him with glassy eyes. ‘I can’t even remember the last time I held you like this. You’re my girl and we’re supposed to be a team but youve been pulling most of the weight. I feel like I haven’t taken a proper look at you in weeks and you look exhausted’ he told you softly and you finally let a few tears escape your eyes that he kissed away softly. ‘I’m really sorry, baby’ he whispered, making you nuzzle into his neck so he didn’t see you cry anymore. ‘Let’s get some sleep yeah? How about you turn your alarm off and I’ll get Ollie up tomorrow. I’ve got a shoot in the afternoon that I can take him to and then after I can take him over to stay with lewis for the evening. He’s already said yes so it’s fine. We can just chill out yeah? Spend some time just the two of us’

‘I’d like that’ you whispered before he kissed your forehead and snuggled down. ‘I love you too, Mase. A lot’

You felt him press a heavy kiss to your lips before settling back down, holding you tightly in his arms and he stroked you back to help you drift off whilst placing feather light kisses to your hairline. You thought it might of been a struggle to get to sleep tonight with all the thoughts rushing around your head and what ifs, but Mason always knew how to settle you and you knew everything would be fine whatever the outcome.

Mason kept to his promise and got Ollie up and ready giving you a much needed lie in until he had to go to cobham for some rehabilitation sessions, leaving you alone with the little one and your racing thoughts. Would it be worth waiting to take a test? Would it be worth taking one at all? You didn’t feel like you could be pregnant but you never knew. Maybe it would be worth taking one just to settle your mind? In the end you told yourself you couldn’t wait anymore and you needed to get out of the house for your own sanity and grab a test to calm your mind.

‘Hey Ollie? How do you fancy going out for lunch today? We can go for a walk and look round the shops after?’ You asked him and he was up running about to get his shoes on before he’d even answered you properly, but you were grateful as you couldn’t stand another second in the house without knowing if there was a little human growing inside you or not, so after a quick trip to Ollie’s favourite coffee shop you made a trip into the pharmacy to pick up a few tests before a trip to the toy shop where he picked out some new crayons and a colouring book.

‘I’m just going to have a look for something in the other room okay? You stay here I won’t be long’ you told him with a kiss on his head before you made you way to the downstairs loo that was just across the hall. Sitting and waiting for those two minutes felt like a lifetime but soon enough you were turning the stick over to read the one little word that carried so much weight.

Pregnant

You gasped before choking out a sob. You hands started shaking as you placed the test down on the sink, no longer able to read the word as your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t believe it and you couldn’t believe how long it had taken you to realise this was the cause of all your issues. There was a mini mix of Mason and you growing and had been for over two months according to the test.

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts before your little boy opened the door. His face full of concern as he looked at you crying on toilet floor.

‘Mummy? What’s wrong?’

You didn’t want to frighten him so you sent him a smile, opening your arms for him to run into. Giving him a massive squeeze before rubbing your eyes to clear the tears away.

‘Nothings wrong baby I promise’

‘You’re crying’

‘I know but they’re happy tears’ you laughed before letting him go, leading him back into the living room before sitting him on your lap. You felt like you were about to burst as you needed to tell someone and you figured it was no harm in telling him before you let Mason know later as you knew Ollie would pester you until he knew what was happening. ‘If I tell you a secret do you promise not to tell anyone? Not even daddy?’

‘I promise’ he nodded excitedly, pretending to zip his lips and you chuckled at his cheekiness. It was times like this he looked like Mason the most which made your heart hurt. You wished he was here so you could all share this moment together but it gave you a little bit of time to think of a way to tell him so you gave Ollie a quick kiss on the forehead before carrying on.

‘You remember when baby Mila was growing in auntie Jaz’s tummy?’ You asked him and he nodded his head, glancing down to your tummy and placing a gentle hand there which made you laugh. ‘Yes baby, mummy’s got one growing too now. And in a little while you’ll have your own brother or sister to play with. How does that sound?’

Ollie’s hand’s clenched into fists as he did a little excited dance on your lap, letting you know he was happy about it and you hugged him to you tightly as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. But you were soon knocked out of your trance but the front door opening Masons voice booming through the house.

‘Hello? I’m home. Is Ollie ready to go? I just need to get changed and I’ll take him’

The sudden realisation that a positive pregnancy test was still sitting on your downstairs bathroom sink made you jump up, dragging Ollie with you but thankfully he was already halfway up the stairs and nowhere near it but you caught the confused look he gave you both when you emerged. The test hidden in your back pocket

‘What are you doing?’ He laughed but you just brushed him off with a shake of your head.

‘Nothing. Ollie’s ready so be quick’ you laughed and he rolled his eyes before continuing on. You crouched down so you were Ollie’s level, holding him by his chubby cheeks so he’d look at you properly before you started placing little kisses all over his face, making him giggle adorably. ‘Remember baby. Not a word to anyone, yeah? Our secret until tomorrow’

‘Yes mummy’ he laughed, holding up his little finger for you link yours with which you did with a laugh before pulling him in for a big hug.

‘And you be good for uncle Lew yeah?’ You told him, his head nodding up and down furiously as you stood to grab his coat and bag. ‘Why don’t you go grab your new colouring things so you’ve got something to do at daddy’s shoot?’ You told him as Mason was making his way back down the stairs.

‘You alright?’ He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. You wanted to blurt it out there and then but you knew the timing wasn’t right. You wanted to tell him when you had time, just the two of you so you just nodded before he kissed you again. This time slowly and gently, filling your tummy with butterflies just like he always did.

‘I’m ready’ Ollie shouted, running towards you both and hugging Masons legs so he could pick him up. Once he was both your heights you gave him a kiss on the cheek and a little tickle of his tummy, making him laugh.

‘Have a nice time. And remember, be a good boy’ you told him, kissing his cheek before turning to face Mason. ‘You be a good boy too’ you laughed, reaching up to kiss him gently as he chuckled.

‘I’m always a good boy. Come on then mate, let’s get going. Say bye to mummy’

‘Bye mummy’ Ollie sung, giving you a hug and kissing you on the cheek before Mason put him on the floor so he could go and get in the car, leaving you and Mason alone for him to pull you into a big hug.

‘I’ll see you later yeah?’ He whispered and you nodded into his neck before pulling away to give him a quick kiss. ‘Take it easy’ he winked and with one final kiss he was gone.

You knew you needed to nip back out to the shops to get a few things for dinner and on the way you thought over some ways that you could tell Mason about the sprog in your belly, scrolling through Pinterest before eventually picking up everything you needed and returning home.

You were antsy about his arrival, trying to distract yourself by making a start on dinner and when you heard the front door open, you felt your heart in your throat and you tried to swallow down the nervous lump. You had t thought about what part of the night would be best to tell him it if you could could even keep it in for much longer.

‘Baby?’ He bellowed, trying to locate you and you let out a nervous laugh, slightly apprehensive about how the night would go.

‘Kitchen’ you replied, hearing him making his way to you, his smiley face coming into view not long after before he made his way over to plant a kiss on you cheek.

‘You okay? How was your afternoon?’

‘Yeah fine thanks. How was your shoot?’

‘Yeah same old same old’ he told you, rolling his eyes with a smile. ‘Ollie seems to really like his new colouring stuff. In fact he drew us a really nice picture but I’m a little bit confused by it’ he laughed, pulling out a folded up piece of paper from his pocket that he flattened out. ‘You wanna have a look?’ He asked, placing it down in front of you before settling his hands on your hips as he looked over your shoulder to tell you about it.

‘What’s this?’ You laughed, eyes glancing over the page of what you assumed was Ollie’s depiction of your family and your heart warmed at the fact that was what he wanted to draw out of everything else in the world.

‘Well this is you apparently, and that’s one’s me’ Mason pointed, his lips by your ear as he described everything to you. ‘That one there with the ball is Ollie and that’s our dog Buster that apparently I have to get him. Not so sure when I agreed to that though’ he laughed before he pointed at the the other figure drawn to the right hand side next to the dog. ‘And this person here, this is his little sister that you’re apparently growing in your belly at the moment, but he’s not allowed to tell me anymore cause it’s a secret?’ he told you quietly and your whole body stiffened at his words, you blood running cold at the fact that he knew before you could tell him.

Your eyes began to fill up as he pulled back and turned you to face him, not sure what sort of expression you were expecting to meet but when he tilted you chin up to look at him, his kind glossy eyes and heartwarming smile settled you instantly and you felt stupid for even worrying about telling him.

‘Is it true? Are you pregnant?’

‘Yes’ you sobbed, throwing your arms around his shoulders and holding him as tightly as you could. ‘I found out this afternoon, I was gonna tell you tonight, I’m sorry’ you cried as he held you close you him, swaying you from side to side and he tried to calm your sobs down.

‘Hey, it’s okay. Come on love, just breathe for me yeah? You’re okay i promise’ he whispered, letting you get yourself together before you pulled back to take him in.

He looked so happy, his bright smile making you smile back at him just as hard before he held you by your face, pressing little kisses all over it before making his way to your lips, kissing you gently but pouring himself into you. Letting you know how loved and appreciated you were by his lips alone and you felt yourself turn to jelly as he grabbed you by your thighs and lifted you to sit on the counter. Slotting himself in between your legs as he came back to stroke your cheeks gently.

‘Are you okay? Are you feeling alright? I knew something was up but I never thought it could be this’ he laughed and you nodded at him whilst wiping your eyes as his soon spilled over with tears.

‘I’m alright. I didn’t know either like I’ve been feeling a bit rough but when you said you hadn’t seen me dizzy since before Ollie it all sort of clicked into place and I took a test earlier. It says I’m two months plus but I’ll have to make an appointment soon to get everything checked’

‘Well let me know I wanna be there’ he laughed, gently pulling up the bottom of your top so he could press kisses onto the bare skin of your tummy. ‘Hello baby, it’s your daddy. I love you so so much you have no idea’ he spoke to your belly and you laughed as you brushed you fingers through his hair. ‘And you’re gonna love your brother and your mummy too. Just like I do’

‘Oh yeah?’ You laughed ‘You sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m all fat again?’ And he looked back up to give you a soft loving stare.

‘You gave me my best friend in the world and you’re about to give me another one. I couldn’t be more in love with you if I tried’ he whispered making you shiver and your heart race at his sweet words. ‘You, and this little family we’re building mean absolutely everything to me, like more than I could ever tell you. I know I’ve been caught up in myself lately and I need to do better but I will, I promise’ he told you, tears still falling from his eyes and you brushed them away gently.

‘Thank you’ you whispered, pulling him in for a much needed kiss as you could tell you both needed some comfort. He held you at your waist gently, his thumb seeming to automatically stroke over your tummy softly like he was letting the baby know he was there and everything was okay.

‘No, thank you. You’re making me a dad again and it’s my favourite thing in the whole world like I could never repay you for any of this’ he uttered, the emotion taking over his voice before you held him close to you.

‘Would you like your present?’ You laughed and he looked at you in confusion before you passed him a small white box that had a doughnut inside and a handwritten message on the inside of the lid.

Eat me! Mummy doesn’t want to be the only one with a belly 💛

Mason laughed, picking it up to take a bite before you could stop him, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you tried to grab it but he was halfway across the kitchen in a flash.

‘Mase, you’ll ruin your dinner’ you laughed, gently getting down from the counter so you could take it off of him and he pouted but gave it up straight away.

‘Go sit down, I can finish dinner off. You need to be resting’ he told you. ‘I know us Mounts can be exhausting’

‘You can say that again’ you laughed, popping yourself down on the stool at the kitchen island. ‘I tell you what, I’m never telling Ollie any secrets again. He promised not to blab’ you smiled and he laughed loudly.

‘He’s was so excited though. I think he really wants a sister’ he laughed ‘which I think would be nice. You know, complete the set? I think I’d make a pretty good girl dad’

‘You’d make the best girl dad’ you smiled as he kissed your forehead gently.

‘Well you’re already the best mum and I’ve learnt everything I know from you’ he winked. ‘We’ll keep this between the three of us for now yeah? Maybe four if Ollie can’t keep his mouth shut around Lewis’ Mason laughed, picking his phone up to give him a quick call to see if he’d blabbed yet. ‘Nah apparently he’s promised he’s not said anything and Lewis seems none the wiser so I think we’re safe’ he told you, giving you a disapproving look as you were dishing the food up and not sat where he’d left you. ‘Come on then you two, let’s eat so we can have a cuddle’ he laughed and you felt your face flush at the fact he’d referred to you as a pair.

‘Can I see the test?’ Mason asked after dinner and you quickly retrieved it from your bedside drawer so he could read the words for himself as you cuddled up together on the sofa, you practically sitting in his lap as he rested his chin on your shoulder. ‘Two months, when was two months ago?’ He asked and you both counted back to the middle of January, your face flushing when you realised what date it must of been, his own face a look of shock when he realised when it could potentially be. ‘You don’t think it was mine and Decs birthday party do you? You know when we-

‘Had drunk sex in Decs summer house in his garden?’ You laughed ‘I mean the dates match up’

‘He’s gonna murder me when he finds out, he’ll make us name the baby after him and everything. Even if it is a little girl we’ll have to call it Declan’ he teased.

‘I’m not calling my baby Declan just cause you couldn’t keep it in your pants’ you laughed bringing him in for a kiss. ‘What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him’ you reasoned and he agreed before resting his head on your shoulder, his hand resting on your tummy just like he did when you were pregnant with Ollie, making you look back at him with a smile. ‘I love you so much, Mase’

‘I love you too, gorgeous. More than anything’ he whispered. ‘How are you feeling about it all?’

‘Scared’ you laughed, your own hand brushing up against his on your tummy and you felt him link your fingers together, making a safe little barrier to protect the tiny life inside you. ‘I’m not really sure it’s sunk in yet. How are you feeling?’

‘Excited’ he smiled, kissing your neck gently as he tried calm you. ‘You don’t need to be scared, love. I’m here for you. Anything you need I’ve got you yeah? I’m gonna take such good care of you. Both of you’ he reassured you

‘I know you will’ you whispered, eyes filling up for the millionth time that day as he kissed you gently and you knew you were in safe hands.

[frostbitebakery]

filled prompts for @codywansleepbingo :D we got: spooning, deep sleeper, insomnia! nothing particularly to warn for, though this is set sometime in the HEA phase of I Got My Head Checked, the Sithywan AU. Rest of the ficlet and bingo card under the cut!

Soft Sick Underbelly

“Major or long-lasting stress can lead to chronic insomnia.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself.

It has been… a while since sleep turned away from him in such a snit. He’s not unfamiliar with insomnia. For a long time he had been too afraid to sleep, catching naps here and there during his training—

“Abuse,” Cody would correct him.

His unconventional youth.

Sleep was for doomed prey until he was shaped enough into a predator to grab the luxury and take advantage of it. To take and take until the sleep deprivation was a fond, silly memory of the weak.

To sleep soundly, arrogantly, next to an enemy until the blaster was pressed against his forehead like birdsong. Nothing to concern himself with because he was made to be just that good.

Cody, Obi-Wan mourns to think of their first morning, isn’t anything special in that regard. What made him special, and continues to do so, is that Obi-Wan came back into his arms to sleep, to rest, over and over.

With Cody, he could wake up slow and unafraid. How Cody manages the same is a mystery to Obi-Wan still, on some days. Possibly the insomnia talking him into the spiral of fear, hate…

He doesn’t bother to remember what came after hate in Qui-Gon’s little speech. Cody said it was something to do with toasters.

Cody isn’t naïve. Perhaps he’s still lacking a bit of life experience, down to the few years he’s existed and how, but he’s not going into situations without a plan. Admittedly, he had lost his sight for a tiny bit there when Obi-Wan slithered into his life like the snake he was. Nevermind that it all had backfired on Obi-Wan rather spectacularly, the blind spot for himself Obi-Wan had started to cultivate in Cody had turned out to be mutually beneficial.

Obi-Wan snorts to himself and goes back to reading treatments for insomnia in hopes the irony alone will put him to sleep.

The small data pad is balanced on Cody’s upper arm in front of him, angled away so no light shines into Cody’s face. Obi-Wan is nothing but courteous.

Cody is a deep sleeper, here. In their space, their home, with Obi-Wan. Endearing and humbling. Not naïve. Not even with his back, his neck, to Obi-Wan like a lamb.

It’s trust like a soldier shows. Endearing and humbling, indeed.

Obi-Wan desperately wants to hold his hand, suddenly. The urge rising in his chest. The back of his fingers brush over Cody in substitute, careful not to disturb.

Cody wakes up anyway.

Slow for a minute, then all at once with a jaw-breaking yawn. One of his hands flaps over and behind him, and Obi-Wan offers his own. Like Cody knows.

His hand is guided around Cody, cradled into his chest.

“Bad night?” Cody asks in a murmur.

Obi-Wan fits himself closer into Cody’s warmth, not exactly hiding from the world.

Sleepy eyes turn to him. “Still blue.”

He feels his eyes are blue but it’s a relief to have the confirmation. Sometimes he can’t tell the difference, insides feeling breakable and rotten.

Cody shuffles back into him, a barrier between Obi-Wan and everything else that is not in his head only.

The early morning sun shines on the windows, sneaks through the glass, and plays with Cody’s skin. It's mesmerizing. Charming, in its own way.

The tiredness, the pulling at his eyelids and thoughts, is sudden and unwelcome. It’s morning. They should get up. Routine is good for both of them, after everything. A bit of predictability to stabilize them. They still get up to too many fun adventures. They're somewhat the personified headache of the Jedi Order, especially after their vacation. But this is home. Home is where the masks fall.

Cody latches onto more of his arm, lays his cheek into Obi-Wan's palm. “I’m awake now. Do you want to sleep?”

“Keeping watch for me?” Obi-Wan teases and his wrist is kissed.

“If you want.”

He sighs into Cody’s neck. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Inserts the details into himself, of Cody watching over him like Obi-Wan watches in return. The light behind his eyelids, no suffocating darkness. Cody's stubble scratching over callouses.

Sleep doesn't come immediately. It takes its time. But eventually it's there, welcomes him like Cody's warmth.

[gimmemorecherries]

You were never his canon event

Not when she was still here.

(Cheater!Miguel O'Hara x Wife!AfabReader)

( Summary : After months of fights,broken promises and nights spent in a cold bed,you find out your husband of 3 years still hasn't moved on from the past.)

TW : Infidelity,Miguel cheats on you for his presumably dead wife,mentions of pregnancy (reader)

" Where have you been? "

The sound of the floorboards creaking had woken you up from the couch,you could consider it your new bed after spending night after night there just to see your husband and have it end up in screams and tears.

" Work. " Miguel reply was so...cold. Lately he's been acting different than before,his hair always messy,his head up in the clouds,and he spent more time at work than what she deemed necessary. You couldn't help but feel your heart weigh down ten times than it was before when the thoughts during the night plagued your mind .

You knew Miguel,he was your husband.

You knew his past of Gabriella,how he had lost someone who wasn't even his daughter (technically speaking). This prevented you from ever asking to start a family with him because you'd catch glimpses of holograms of him and Gabriella when you visited his office before. How could you ask for so much when you thought he wasn't ready?

But that's the thing,he wasn't ready but everything came crashing like a trainwreck.

Recently,you'd felt sick every morning after a particular night of passion when Miguel's motivation was releasing pent up stress. That was the last he touched you intimately,and you had craved for atleast a little bit of his touch after so long

Oh how cruel he was by depriving you of his touches for another woman he couldn't let go of.

" ... Miguel? "

" Yes? "

" Can we talk? "

The only reply you got was silence,the bedroom door closing and your tears accompanying you again for the night.

---

9 months.

9 months ago when it started,and you had only found out about his disloyalty towards you after he left his phone on the countertop with a woman sending photos of them on dates.

And to your horror,it was her.

Your heart felt like it was ripped out of your chest forcefully when you scrolled through the romantic messages,photos of Miguel and his presumably dead wife together on dates,with the little girl between both of them,her face beaming in the photo had mirrored your pained face that perfectly resembled your heart's current condition

Absolutely shattered with no chance of gluing them back together .

At the exact moment,you came back to reality as you hear a thud and frantic steps towards you as Miguel dropped his bags behind,his infidelity coming to light after so long.

" Carinõ -"

"Go ,Miguel. "

You couldn't remember the rest of what had happened,all you knew now was that you slept in your aunt's apartment with your heart and mind broken with the new realisation of what was now between you and Miguel.

You had never had the title of Mrs. O'Hara,it still belonged to her and it was never yours to begin with.

[ktarsims]

Updates on Life and Such

SOOOOOO..... I promised an update a few weeks ago now... This is going to be a bit long, so I’ll post it under the cut.

TLDR: Poor decisions were made. I got first a sinus infection with bronchitis and then Pneumonia. Then my annual physical showed my thyroid continues to veer toward hyperthyroidism, and apparently I currently have high blood pressure. On the plus side, I got laid off with a month’s severance pay week and had a lovely root canal a couple of days ago.

When last we left off, there were rats in the walls and ants everywhere. This led to an abundance of Raid being sprayed in various places in the house (like the kitchen and bathrooms). I also decided to try using incense (eucalyptus and lemon!) in the tiny downstairs bathroom in case this would repel ants.

The incense in particular was poor decision making on my part. I know I’m sensitive to smoke, and my respiratory system tends to be weak, but it somehow made sense at the time, and I figured incense smoke is ‘cleaner’ than other smoke, so maybe it would be okay. Between the Raid and the incense I breathed in, I ended up with a sinus infection and my lungs massively inflamed. I was sick for six weeks, and only really got better when they gave me a steroid inhaler to calm down the lungs. (A really expensive steroid inhaler, I might add.)

I was well for about 2-3 weeks when I got gung-ho with energy and finally replaced the uncomfortable loveseat in a room I spend a lot of time in with a full size couch with two recliner seats. And then got one of those nifty shelving units with the differently sized shelves like I love in my sims homes to have space for all the things I displaced with the larger couch.

In the process of re-arranging the room... on the Friday before Christmas, I was extremely active and productive and at one point went outside to put some empty plant pots in the potting shed. While I was there, I saw dead leaves everywhere on the table, in the pots of the outdoor plants... etc. So I took a few minutes to just get the dead leaves out of the pots and off the table. I noticed a few of the leaves I moved were moldy, but trusted in short-term exposure being fine and didn’t run back into the house for a mask.

This requires explaining that about six years ago now, I had been out in the yard raking up leaves when everything was a bit wet and starting to go to mold and rot... and gave myself pneumonia by inhaling the leaf mold. Eheheh.... Seriously, I was perfectly well with no sign of illness and then less than 36 hours later I was in the emergency room because I could hardly breathe and they were telling me I had pneumonia.

So this was also a poor decision. I presume due to the short term exposure, the symptoms were less severe, but I still ended up with pneumonia. I had a second round of antibiotics, but had to use the steroid inhaler again to actually get things to calm down and feel well again.

All I can say here is I think I was feeling pretty stressed, depressed, and anxious because I was so unhappy with my job, but kept failing to find time to seriously search for a new job. Poor mental health leads to poor decisions.

I finally felt well again near the end of January. Then I had my rescheduled dentist appointment to deal with a tooth that’s been causing me lots of pain for 10+ years. It was a thing where they put on a crown, and when they were trying to put on the permanent crown, I objected and said it was hurting far too much and something was wrong. That particular dentist told me it was fine and the pain would go away briefly. But it wasn’t my first crown and I knew the pain level was too high. Anyhow, they overruled me and put it on anyways. It’s been a major source of pain ever since, though I lost my insurance by the time I was certain I’d been right, so I never got it fixed. I stopped chewing on that side of my mouth and just lived with it.

My current dentist is pretty fantastic. I told her about this tooth (we left it to last and fixed everything else first). She cut the crown off and drilled out some minor decay, and said she couldn’t ‘see’ anything else, but that we’d see if it was still giving me pain with the new temp crown on because maybe there was something underneath she couldn’t see. It was still giving me pain, so she referred me to an endodontist for a CT scan.

A few days later, when I hadn’t yet heard back from the endodontist on getting an appointment, I got messages one morning to not go into work because my assignment had been terminated. My first instant reaction was relief that I didn’t need to go to work that day. TBH, a month of severance is fairly generous for a contract job, and I’m fairly elated that I don’t need to keep going back to that job. I consider this great for my mental health.

A couple of hours later, I got a call from the Endodontist office to schedule my appointment. I love this endodontist. The CT scan showed that there was infection at the tips of the roots of that tooth and that the roots were dead. Yes, this means it’s probably been infected in that pocket between the tooth and jaw for 10+ years and just waxing and waning.

A little insert here. I had an annual physical with a new primary care doctor mid-january, and he asked me to see a psychiatrist to look over my anxiety medications. So I had that appointment (video call) the day before I got laid off. While I was at the Endodontist office later that week, waiting for the doctor to come in and talk to me, I was browsing the ‘notes’ attached to my video call with the psychiatrist. It was really confusing until I realized the name on those notes was NOT MINE. (Major confidentiality breach there.) I had to notify them about this, and then they fixed it, but... MAJOR violation of HIPPA there. Just like, wow. Anyways...

Monday, I went in for the root canal. The endodontist found the tooth actually had a third root that was still live, in addition to the two dead ones that were surrounded by infection. ALL cleared out. Today, I’m feeling relieved I don’t have to go back to the job I’d come to hate, extremely relieved that a long-time source of pain has been resolved, and I’m also looking forward to changing my medical insurance away from Kaiser because this last experience has solidified for me that I want nothing more to do with Kaiser.

I’m on blood pressure medication for now, and working to put more potassium back into my diet. It’s dropped a little, though not enough to satisfy my doctors yet. I think whoever my next doctor is will have to follow up on that and the hyperthyroid.

I still have a lot of things to catch up on at the moment, things that didn’t get done while I was sick, paperwork with the loss of the job, getting the permanent crown put on now that the root canal is done, etc. I’m hoping though, that life will calm down a bit, and between no longer needing to deal with that job and the resolution of something that’s been causing me a lot of pain over the years, I think mental health with improve and I can hopefully get back to things like Sims again. <3 I miss my games.

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii !!! if you are accepting requests at the moment, can i ask something about reader and tom expecting a baby, one day while he’s drunk she sees him flirting with another women and when she confronts him he snaps at her and tells her he’s not ready for this “shit”. So they broke up and broke contact for months, until he shows in her apartment regretting his words and they talk but she suddenly at that moment gets into labor?!? I remember seeing a concept similar in a movie but I would love if you couldn’t bring it to life! Thank you so much in advance, appreciate your work a lot 🧸🤎

right so I loved this so much it has become a multiple parter and im not even going to apologise. so thanku so so much anon for getting me out a little rut!!!

summary: when toms caught out all hope looks lost - probs part 1 of 3 but it could get a bit longer too lol

warnings: serious angst, reference to abortion, cheating, a whole lot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry)

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

“Hi babe, just to let you know Yamna’s invited me out for dinner this evening so don’t worry if you get home early and im not back! I love you x”

It was a spur of the moment plan, which was a rarity recently. The past 5 months since you’d found out, you could name barely 5 occasions you’d been out past 8 oclock- trading your heels for fuzzy slippers and dresses for massively oversized tops and joggers. It wasn’t how you had expected to be spending the summer before your 25th birthday but it was now your life. The rooftop bars, the wild nights, the get aways had all sort of been cancelled for… for the rest of your life.

Because an 8 month pregnant belly isn’t something you can ignore.

Sure…. it wasn’t the plan. Not the plan to be pregnant with your boyfriend of only 6 months, who at the time you didn’t even live with. But you were making it work. And now, you were just excited. It was the start of a new story with Tom, and you’d got past the phase of being sad and mourning your youth. Because the little bubba inside of you, she was pretty awesome and you really couldn’t wait to meet her.

So yes, you had been home alone eating ice cream from a tub when Yamna knocked on the door. She’d been one of your best mates for as long as you could remember so when she’d turned up unannounced with mascara smeared under her eyes you’d cancelled your plans of a pathetic alone evening. Her boss had just given her the sack - which was no surprise. He was a backwards tory old git who couldn’t handle the fact Yamna was a woman doing the job better than he could ever dream of.

So yes, you’d suggested going out to the fancy new bar down the road - to celebrate the fact she no longer had to put up with the arsehole. Obviously you couldn’t drink and neither did Yamna, but you go to a bar for the atmosphere - and the selection of mocktails they had was insane.

Your boyfriend Tom was already out, he said he had a meeting and then dinner with some execs he needed to shmoosh. Of course you didn’t mind, but he had been working a lot recently, in order to be able to have the time off when your baby girl arrives.

So after sending a little text and giving Yamna another hug to try and turn the evening from disappointment to celebration you walked out the door with a smile on your face. Maybe you could pretend, just for an evening to not be pregnant and whale-like?

///////////////////////////

The bar was just a 10 minute walk so it wasn’t long before the two of you were soaking up the atmosphere. It was all decorated in a rustic fashion, with old exposed wood and dangling lightbulbs from the ceiling and the drinks were incredible. The type that have dry ice or flames or some other sort of fantastical display of edible decorations. Even Yamna had perked up, especially when a guy from the table across had bought you both a round of drinks.

“I’m just gonna pop to the loo.”

“Do you really need the toilet or do you just want to parade infornt of the fit rich man who keeps looking at you?”

“ Is both an option?” You laughed as Yamna slipped off her stool, winking rather dramatically as she did so. She was unbelievable - but at least this way she wasn’t thinking about her work, or lack thereof, anymore.

Happily you sat scrolling though your phone, seeing that tom had messaged you with an okay, before flicking through instagram.

And that was where the happiness ended.

For in a hurried manner, with a face looking a lot more ghosted than when she left, Yamna took her seat again.

“Are you okay?” Immediately your worry took over, the way she was biting her lip and not meeting your eyes not helping.

“I um yeh-yeh. Just I think I saw Tom.”

“Tom as in my Tom?” Her almost guilty looking nod had your scrunching your eyebrows, why was it such a big deal Tom was inside?

“He didn’t see me I don’t think but er… he just looked pretty close to a girl and I-“

To be honest you stopped listening at that point, heart dropping out the bottom of your chest. Because it made sense, he had been so distant recently and even if you’d been lying to yourself that it were work - this seemed much more likely. Whilst nodding along, pretending to listen to Yamna, instead your attention was solely focused on fiddling with the promise ring he’d got you after the two of you decided to keep the baby. He’d been so committed, so ready for this unexpected news. He’d said he was in for the long haul.

“Y/n?”

“sorry I um… it’s probably just a work colleague he needs to sweet talk. I’ll um-I’ll just go say hello.”

“I’m coming with you.” She spoke astutely, very much forcing herself into the situation.

“No no I’ll… I’ll come back if I need you, just wait here.”

Her face was so grim and destitute, as much as you were pretending it was okay - you knew it wasn’t. Before Yamna could protest further, you slipped off your seat ( clumsily thanks to the elephant belly) and walked with fake confidence back inside.

It took you barely 3 seconds to hone in on Tom, call it mothers intuition. He was on a booth in the corner with 5 others on his table but none of whom you recognised. It was 2 other guys and 3 girls - the six all paired off in mathcingly initimate conversations. Apart from that you payed almost zero attention to the others, attention solely focused on your boyfriend and the girl he had his arm round.

She was everything you weren’t. She was skinny - you, as previously mentioned, looked like you had a beachball stuffed under your top. She was blonde with sleek and perfectly styled waves at the tips of her long her - yours was thrown into a messy bun due to the last minute plans.

Most importantly - right now she was wrapped in Toms arms, whilst you stood alone watching.

God knows what came over you, but with confidence you never normally had you marched up to the table, just waiting at the end. One of the men you didn’t recognised, arrogantly asked you ‘can I help you’ - but you completely disregarded it, eyes solely fixed on Tom. He took a moment more to look away from the leggy girl, but as soon as he did his eyes grew massively wide.

“Y/n I-I-“

“Fancy bumping into you, I thought you were out with work executives?” Frantically casting his gaze across the table, you could see the cogs whirring to try and come up with an explanation.

“No I-I was but then Charlie here came over, we used to be mates at school and-“

“Oh fuck off Tom., I cant deal with this right now.”

You didn’t even have the energy to listen to his clearly fake excuses as to why he’d landed himself in that situation. You also certainly did not have it in you to maintain the strong face, you could feel everything shattering inside of you.

Because it was so blindingly obvious by how he had acted. You’d caught him out and you both knew it.

And it fucking hurt like hell.

So you exited the bar as fast as physically possible, hearing the shouts of both Yamna and Tom behind you. You didn’t know what you needed in that moment - except that neither of them were the answer. Tom though, presumably the faster of the two, managed to catch up - grabbing your arm to make you halt in the road.

There was this moment between the two of you that time almost seemed to freeze. The two of you, in an otherwise pretty empty residential street, at 9:30 at night, in a moment that you would never have again. From your point of view, you saw the slightly bloodshot and bleary eyes, widened with panic and fear. For Tom he saw the floods of tears down your cheeks, which you hadn’t even noticed were freely streaming.

But in that moment there was, at least, the slightest bit of peace. The slightest bit of hope - that he could explain, that he had some ludicrous but valid reason for the situation you had walked in on. Just a smidgen of hope that this were recoverable.

But then he had to open his bloody mouth.

“Y/n I swear nothing-“

“That didn’t look like fucking nothing!”

“It was I swear! We just-“

“Tom this is your one and only chance. I don’t care if your off your face, if you don’t give my a miracle of a reason as to what the fuck THAT was - then I’m gone.”

“Don’t say that Y/n, you don’t mean th-“ He tried to grab your hand which you snatched away, like you had just scalded it on a hot plate. Like he had hurt you.

“I swear to god I’ve never meant anything more. So cut the shit.”

“FIne-fine! Um so we were at the meeting and then on the way out I bumped into George and hes been a good mate of mine for years.” All you did was hum, arms crossed and making sure you had a metre of distance between the two of you.

“So he said god you look like you need a drink and I agreed because its been stressful as hell recently.”

“Oh its been stressful; for YOU has it? I’m so sorry Thomas, has it been hard for you while i’ve been throwing my lungs up with morning sickness? Has it been stressful that I’ve been running on zero hours sleep because she kicks me all bloody night? ” Your words were laced in a posioned sarcasm, to which Tom just stammered to.

“Please just let me.” Given he was supposed to be fighting for you, he sounded pretty darn defeated already.

“I said yes to the drink.” He skipped out the bit that had angered you, to which you rolled your eyes at. “And one turned into two and more and then I don’t know-“

“Your going to have to try a lot harder than that.” You deadpanned, taking a small step further back still.

“I mean it! The girls were all his friends and we were just talking.”

“Just talking? All pressed up and arms round her?”

“Yes!” As indignant as he retorted, it didn’t not make up for what you had seen with your own eyes.

“Your such a bullshitter Tom!”

“God why wont you just listen to me?” He cried, wobbly doing a little 360 on the spot, in what appeared to be exasperation.

“Because your just spouting fucking lies! And you try and blame it all on poor little tommo being stressed which is-“

“I HAVE BEEN! Running round after you! I’m just tired of this shit!!! So kill me, for having one night of freedom!”

Tom was too deep in his angry lecture to take any notice of you. Which is why, once finished, he waitied, breath heavy and nose flaring. He was waiting for you to scream back at him. To give it back. He was too drunk to notice the change in your demeanor.

“I’m tired of this shit.”

It was just reverberating round your head. Again and again and again. He was tired of your relationship and you hadn’t even become parents yet. He was at his wits-end and the baby was still unborn. What the fuck was going to happen when baby arrived? Clearly there was no hope. It was dead. Your relationship was dead with no chance of revival.

Because he’d said it. Your relationship was shit, and nobody can put up with something they hate for that long. Not 18 years. Not while bringing up a child.

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

?to be continued?

~~~~~~~~~~gahhhh I hope u enjoyed! I also REALLY CANNOT THINK OF A NAME FOR THIS MINISERIES --> if anyone can think of something pls inbox me!!! ~~~~~~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol

[oneshotnewbie]

Loves the story about being Amelia younger sister. Can this came to my mind could you pretty please make this a reality lol. So the reader is Amelia and dereks younger sister ( obviously lol) and she gets sick. But she doesn’t want them to know because they will overreact. So without her telling them that she is sick she ends up getting worse and ends up in the hospital, just for Amelia and Derek to find out . Does that make sense. This came to me late at night lol. Thank you:)

For a few days your well being in your body had been lost. From an initial exhaustion and fatigue, for which you had perceived stress as the main cause to slightly stinging in the chest and body aches that you only stamped as tiredness of the last week, there was a lot going at university; lectures until late in the evening, answering 80 quiz questions daily on top of your homework so that you don't forget what you have learned and the tests you had to write in what felt like every subject you could possibly have.

It was almost midnight when you started to finish up your work. You were the only one in this house, at least you thought so, who was still awake to do things that had no time to be postponed.

"You look pale," did you hear your sisters voice and startled for a second out of shock before you looked at the clock for the 10th time this minute and slowly began to collect the papers and pens from the brown coffee table."Is everything okay?"

You just nodded a 'yes', not even bothering to talk out of feeling sick, and got up from your chair to pile up the papers in the back of the table when a wave of dizziness caught up with you and you used your hands to support yourself. "Just totally stressed." you mumbled as you felt a worrying glance and a hand on your back.

Slowly your vision returned to normal, you picked up your things into your arms and turned to Amelia who was standing right behind you. With an attempted smile, you squeezed past her and walked up the stairs. "I'm good."

Before you went to bed, you stole a pill from the bathroom cabinet and disappeared. -It is just a little cold- you thought.

---

"Y/N Shepard, 22 years young." the paramedic called as soon as the doors were opened from the ambulance and he pulled out the stretcher and got out himself. "According to first responders, she passed out while she was about to order a coffee.. Mild sinus tachycardia, blood pressure is low. Temperature is 102,38°F"

You became conscious before the ambulance arrived, but the people around you didn't agree to let you go and wanted to have you examined and now you were here, the attempt to escape from the mess was unsuccessful.

A little confused, you looked around and saw the faces of Owen and Meredith. Almost immediately, before the blonde could even say something, you cut her out. "Don't tell Amy and Derek."

She stroked your hair and looked at you confused and worried. She didn't understood why you wanted to keep your ambulance arrival a secret from your siblings. Even if she had a medical confidentiality obligation towards her patients, she had to tell her sister in law and husband. They were your family.

She nodded to Owen and he understood immediately that he should beep both of them on their pagers. As soon as he disappeared, Meredith pushed you into one of the examination rooms and started to look you up and down.

"Why don't you want the two of them to know?" she asked cautiously while placing some adhesive stickers on your chest and hanging you on a machine. "You know exactly how they are as soon as I am sick. Overprotective - and that is annoying. I am not a little kid anymore."

She stopped moving and looked at you. Her hands found their way onto your shoulder and squeezed them once just before she sat down in front of you and looked deep into your eyes. "They are your siblings, Y/N. Be glad that you have someone who cares about you."

She stopped for a short time and looked at your heart rate on the monitor before turning to you a little worried, adapting a blood pressure cuff on your arm, waiting for the results to show up on her chart. "You have cardiac arrhythmia. Have you had a cold lately?"

"No, I've just been pretty tired and exhausted. I also had a slight sting in my chest once in a while but thought it came from my stomach; I haven't been eating particularly well lately."

---

"What were you thinking by not telling us that you are not feeling well? You don't have three doctors at your home around the clock for nothing!" said Derek a little louder, his face flashed red like a tomato.

When he got the news, he immediately ran down to the emergency room, fearing the worst. He was pissed of when he saw you lying there and he was even angrier when he had to hear every information from Meredith that she had found out and what she suspected. "And that's exactly why I didn't want you to know. You always overdo it!"

"Y/N, heart muscle inflammation is not a joke! If you had carried off the crap and hadn't passed out in the cafe, it could all have been worse than just a few needle sticks and a comfortable hospital bed!" he shouted in disbelief as his hands clenched into a fist and the knuckles were already turning white at the strength of his nervousness which he underpinned by pacing back and forth in front of your bed.

He didn't understand how you wanted to become a doctor but couldn't listen to your own body. It was impossible for him to understand how you could let it get this far. Derek asked for an answer, but you didn't feel like arguing with him anymore so you just stood silent; you were too tired and exhausted to continue this discussion.

You knew it was a fatal mistake, but you couldn't change and jump back in time either.

Just before Derek wanted to let his anger run free again, Amelia, who had previously been quiet, had stood in front of him and gave him an urgent look and some slight knocks on his now crossed arms. "You go now and calm down. The shouting doesn't help anyone here and I don't think the whole hospital has to know our family issues." he bit his lip and looked between you and your sister before he disappeared, but not without slamming the door behind him.

Startled, you let yourself fall back on the pillow, put your arm over your forehead and closed your eyes. You knew you messed up big time. "I'm sorry, Amelia."

"You should have told us, then you might not be here and have to stay for observation." she said calmly, unlike your brother and started moving towards the side of your bed where Amelia sat down on the chair that was already standing next to it and gently stroked the back of your head.

Amelia understood why you hadn't said anything, she had gone through the same with him too. But on the other hand, she could understand Derek. It also hurt her that you hadn't mentioned anything and that you didn't let her help you. "From now on, no more secrets, understand? I don't want to have this horrible feeling in my stomach when I get a message like that ever again. When you are in pain then let one of us know, regardless of whether you think it is a cramped muscle or not."

"You are so over caring." you said annoyed and rolled your eyes.

You knew it was in their nature to react like that, but as a young adult you couldn't understand that exactly this small gesture showed how important you were to a person. You just found it annoying.

"At some point in your life, you will think back to that moment and judge it completely different. Maybe we are far too caring now, later you will perhaps be grateful to us for it and understand why we do this." she sighed.

"We do this because we love you and we don't ever want to lose you."

[lin-nin]

Hey I totally loved reading your head cannons about Techno, Schlatt, Dream, and BBH accidentally killing their s/o's. I had a request and feel free to decline this if it's too heavy or whatever. What if those four lost a baby with you? Be it a child or a premature baby.

onHe We really suffering with these four two days in a row, huh? Obvious warning for pregnancy, birth, death, gore, miscarriage, all the like! This definitely is a heavier topic but I have no problem writing it. Obvious afab reader, as well :) Added a bonus Philza bc this angst prompt was screaming for some Philza.

Techno losing his child

When you had told Techno you were pregnant, carrying his child, he had been ecstatic. The way he smiled at you was enough to make you melt, especially as he held you close. He would often hold your forming bump, or nuzzle his face against it. The way he cared for you and the child you shared was so incredibly tender, making sure everything was okay for the two of you, for your unplanned family.

He rarely left you alone for long, not wanting you to be unprotected. He had only been at the farm when you had felt it, the sharp pain in your back. It had you staggering, tears in your eyes and hand fluttering immediately to your stomach. You knew something was wrong, and it was confirmed when the blood was on your thighs. You had screamed bloody murder, causing Techno to rush in, axe drawn. Ready to take down whatever had caused you to scream. Only to freeze when he saw you on the floor, sobbing and screaming.

It didn’t take long for him to understand. Especially with the amount of blood there was. He didn’t grieve at first, so worried for you. You always came first. He had helped you, albeit with shaking hands, clean everything up. He even helped you into the tub, hands stroking your hair from your face. You had grown numb and despondent, barely aware of his words. It hurt to see you like that.

He reassured you that it wasn’t your fault- because it wasn’t. It was nothing either of you could have stopped, but you still blamed yourself. He did mourn, though. While unplanned, he had been excited. He had looked forward to being able to raise a child with you. He reassured you in the end that the two of you could try again. Whenever the both of you were ready.

Schlatt losing his child

Becoming pregnant had not been your intention. Not in your plans for years to come. You had simply been fooling around, drinking with Schlatt and maybe getting a bit handsy. So when a few months had passed and you found yourself sick on the regular, a growing bump on your stomach, you were horrified. Not against it, entirely. Just taken purely by surprise.

Schlatt had been a little more vocal about it, expressing his disbelief loudly. He didn’t want to be a father. At least he didn’t think he did. He had just wanted to have fun. That’s all he ever wanted- to do as he please. He didn’t please to be a parent. Yet it was coming anyways.

As he watched you teeter around, pregnancy increasingly obvious, he found himself much more open to the idea. And when you had given birth- a healthy baby boy- he was there. He was there, and he was sober. He even was teary eyed when he got to hold his son. Everything was okay for a couple of weeks, until you noted that he wasn’t eating as much as he should be. He only seemed to grow weaker from there, before succumbing to whatever sickness had grabbed a hold of him.

You had cried, feeling utterly broken. Like you hadn’t protected him enough. Schlatt lapsed into drinking more than normal. He was angrier, snapping at anyone who even brought up his son. The only person he tolerated it from was you. Especially when you had shown up, eyes red from crying, requesting a drink. The two of you weren’t together, but you could definitely grieve your son together. It was, at the very least, cause for a friendship between you two. You had wanted a son, you had had him, and you had lost him. Schlatt felt largely the same, and the only thing that numbed the pain of the loss was alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Dream losing his child

Whatever gods there were seemed to have a sick sense of humor. You loved Dream so much. Everyone knew it, it was clear in the way you looked at him. Everyone knew he loved you the same, too. Especially in the early days, when he didn’t hide his tender touches and soft kisses from the public eye. Even when things started to change, when he grew defensive and angry, he still loved you the same. Even if it was harder for everyone else to tell, you knew. You could see it in his eyes. You were his weakness.

Which had lead to an argument between the two of you. You were a weakness, a liability, in danger. Something he needed to rid himself of. Which was when you had dropped on him that you were pregnant. It wasn’t what you had planned, not the way you’d wanted to tell him. It was almost as if the words had short circuited his brain, tongue turning to lead. He seemed to soften up after that. At least towards you. Only in private. In public he had only seemed to deny any attachment to you vehemently.

Your pregnancy had progressed normally, and everyone quickly knew of it. There were some congratulations, while others worried about Dream’s ability to be a father figure. You didn’t entirely pay them mind. Of course, nothing ever went smoothly with Dream. You had no way of knowing that when you went into labor, your baby would have come out without air in her little lungs or a beat to her heart. You had cried, so much. Holding her little body against you. Dream had seemed to shut down, staring down at his lifeless daughter.

He seemed distant afterwards. He blamed himself, truly. For maybe if he had been a better person, his daughter would have been born alive. He had practically cut you off, saying that he couldn’t risk you going through that pain and loss again due to his actions. It showed him that even if he wanted all the control in the world, there were some things he couldn’t control. The best way he could control this was by removing you from being put in that situation again.

Bad losing his child

Bad was always vocal with his love for you. You adored it, relishing in the way he would proudly tell anyone who would listen about you. It was endearing and you couldn’t help but tug at his sleeve to get him to lean down so you could kiss his cheek. That’s why it was no surprise when you had fallen pregnant. It was still in the early days, then, too. Back when L’Manberg was still around. You didn’t involve yourself too much with it, though. You were too focused on making everything perfect for your baby.

Bad had pampered you like there was no tomorrow. Getting you flowers, and your favorite baked goods from Nihachu. He would carry you around everywhere. He doted on you and made sure you got everything you wanted and that you were as healthy as can be. You adored it, and always responded by kissing the tip of his horns lovingly.

That’s why it was a surprise when your contractions had come early. Far too early. Bad fretted over you, which only seemed to stress you out. The baby was so tiny when she was born. Yet she was alive, and somehow still perfect. Your sweet angel. You loved her, staying by her side religiously. Bad was much the same, scared to even sleep. She spent so long fighting for her life. She was too small, too young, too underdeveloped. You knew it would happen eventually, her chances of survival low. It was why you cherished every moment with her.

Yet when she had finally lost the energy to fight to breathe, in your arms, you bawled. You cried for days on end, letting Bad hold you close as you did. He only held you, rocking you back and forth. He was hurt, unsure what to say o comfort you. Until one day he came to you, a newfound light in his eyes. Claiming to have found your baby, just in a new form. You had followed him, hoping that whatever it was he was right about. As you saw the red vines he presented to you, you felt the same attachment you had felt for your daughter. This really was her, wasn’t it?

Philza losing his child

Philza had been so excited when you had given birth to his son. His second child, at least biologically. He doted on the pair of you like there was no tomorrow. Always telling you how proud he was of you, how much he loved you. Giving your son everything in the world. After all, after losing Wilbur, he was determined to make sure he didn’t lose his second child. Especially when the boy’s wings started to flourish.

Teaching him to fly had always been his favorite thing, especially as he got the hang of it and could effortlessly soar through the skies with him. You would often find shelter under a tree, fondly watching the pair of them fly. As he grew, he had begun flying on his own, straying further from Philza. You never worried. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Until one day you watched him get struck in the chest with the bolt of a crossbow, helplessly watching him plummet almost immediately to the ground.

You had screamed, and so had Philza. He absolutely could not lose a second son, but watching his child speed down to the earth, he already knew he had. He looked with a vengeance for who had killed his son, while you scrambled your way over to where he had landed. Finding the culprit was easy, at least with wings. He hadn’t even thought twice when he had found the fleeing orange flurry that was undoubtedly his grandson. His trident wasn’t in his hand for long, being thrown straight into him.

Fundy had been vehement in his last breaths, insisting that Philza couldn’t love him as a grandson, and couldn’t love his other son properly either. Philza had no interest in his words, simply ripping his trident from his body and leaving. He grieved heavily when he had returned to your side, helping you bury your son. Despite his grief, and clear depression, he never pushed you away or distanced himself. If anything, he seemed to hold you closer. As if it would repair the damage left on both of you.

[spiderling-space]

Hey so this thought has been on my mind for like ages and I think that you'd be able to write a headcanon about it in a wonderful way, so I'm presenting this idea to you hehe ( I love ur blog so so so much btw!)

So let's say that whatever miracles of seven happened, that Yuu overblots. Being constantly pushed around by other students by being magicless, solving the idiot trio's problems, trying to survive overblots and dealing with Crowley's neglectful ass cheeks sure is not easy. With all the piled and bottled up negative emotions, Yuu like the previous boys, overblots. Yuu wasn't that hard to defeat cuz you know, they're magicless, but the twst boys did struggle and Yuu's quite the challenge too. So what if, after Yuu's overblot, they had a full on mental breakdown. Not like crying mental breakdown, they're full on SCREAMING, their voice are cracking too, and very painful to hear. They started to unconsciously harm themselves so they have to be tied down to prevent to hurt themselves further. How would the dormleaders react to that?

(Sorry for my English and if I ever break a rule, it's OK if you decide to not do this too. Btw I got this idea when I watch ATLA aka Aang the last airbender, for reference of the breakdown of Yuu just search "Azula's breakdown" that practically how their breakdown looked like :D)

I cant write headcanons because you basically wrote everything. I will just make comments and additions to this. first I mention the background, secondly Azula’s breakdown so non ATLA watchers can understand a little and lastly, MC having breakdown like Azula. For the record, I could write about ATLA for pages since it is something I love since 2005. LOL This became a bit meta xd

You can join the discord server here 😉🤣

Firstly, the back ground:

I was 7 years old when ATLA started airing. I’d be excited to get back home to watch ATLA after school. Azula’s breakdown was awful back then when I first watch it as a kid. And of course, when they aired the episodes again and again. I rewatched again because I remembered the show being dope when I was in 12th grade which was stress relief while studying for university exams, and then I rewatched last year and even founded a Zutara server. Now I’m getting back to the point. In the last two rewatching, I saw Azula in a different light and her breakdown at the end of the show was understandable. I can recommend some ATLA meta that you might like. 

Secondly, Azula’s breakdown: 

Azula lost everything. In the flashbacks, you saw she was getting along with Zuko, laughing and playing tag until Ozai’s influence on her grew while Ursa showed more affection towards Zuko since Ozai basically hated Zuko. These two triggered each other and it grew like snowball effect which came to the point that Ozai-Azula and Ursa-Zuko. She didn’t get love from Ozai, she was just a puppet, someone to empower him more, not his daughter meanwhile to Ursa, she was a monster. Azula was 8 years old  Ursa disappeared. Imagine how this would affect the child. After this, she had estranged brother that she was jealous of because of Ursa’s love, a father who manipulated her, and an uncle who was too in pain to do anything and he was more focused on Zuko. She only had Mai and Ty Lee as “friends” but it was toxic and Azula used fear to control them. After Zuko got banished, Mai and Ty Lee went to their own places, leaving Azula alone with Ozai. Just when Zuko got back, she was being like the last times, cruel teasing, Mai and Ty Lee with her. Later, Zuko went away and probably got lectured by Ozai for her lie. Mai and Ty Lee stood against her. In the end, she had no one. Ozai didn’t want her with him either because he only wants power. Being alone drew her to the edge. In the Royal Hair Washing, the girl sje fired had her face. Her self hatred was palpable. She started to reflect this via Ursa, the mother who thought her as monster and didn’t love her like she did Zuko. I believe she would have had breakdown if she actually killed Zuko. At the end, she couldn’t handle it anymore. Being all alone, not being loved, self hatred and finally failing at something which is something she knows Ozai would never tolerate like he did with Zuko. This 14-year-old wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore and had breakdown.

Now last section, MC having breakdown like Azula’s:

Let’s see the things MC went through:

Stripped away from home

Doesn’t have much memory of it

Is thrusted into a world so foreign to them, where everything is foreign to them. There is no familiar thing that can make them recall home or feel at home

Is forced to study things that they have no prior info where the others have prior info and they are expected to ace the tests. This puts on pressure on regular students, can’t imagine the pressure they would feel since they barely understand the magic.

Is treated like trash by everyone at least once. From the first moment they came to Twisted Wonderland, they were like dirtbag. Dire gave them a house where they could get Hepatitis A to C, tetanus, hypothermia and any other disease. They have lived in that state for months and the house barely got fixed by the end of exams. They got belittled or used by almost all characters at least once. Examples: Vil calling them nobody; Azul trying to take the only thing they have from them, the dorm; Riddle calling them uneducated because not having magical parents; Leona acting like they are a toy in E2; Jamil literally manipulating their choice; sometimes NPC characters talked; Cater making them do his work etc.

They are given more than a person should handle. They are not certificated psychologist, they aren’t superhuman, they don’t have super healing... They are just human but has to fight enemies than can easily kill them if it were not the magic users around them. They are given the task of dealing with the emotional breakdown of the other people.

All of these are building up more and more. Maybe they started to get along with people after the belittlement and being used but every new character does this. At one point, it will be too much and they will think “they are only nice to me because I did a favor to them. If not for that, they wouldn’t be nice to me” which would lead to self doubt. When one starts doubting themselves, everything else starts to go down. Also, new characters treating them that way adds salt to the wound.

MC isn’t a professional psychologist. They can’t handle other people’s issues without taking a toll at themselves. They don’t even catch a break between everything.

Dire is deliberately keeping them away from home as they all do the errands he say. To him, what MC wants doesn’t matter much. The game doesn’t show but if MC has family and friends or pets, you can’t tell me that they wouldn’t miss them once or see, hug them or know their state, alive-dead, healthy-sick etc. 

Lastly not being invincible. The end of Episode 5 shows this well. They couldn’t stand against Grim who isn’t as powerful as the other overblot characters. They are mortal who can get hurt easily.

Now all these build up meanwhile we don’t see an MC centered chapter, how they are etc. It’s all about the others. Maybe there were a few chapters asking if MC is okay after everything but it feels like it is in the second plan. 

Everything that I mentioned can lead to a breakdown like Azula’s. Everything is just too much to handle and they don’t talk with a professional about it. When they finally let out everything, it feels much better, screaming out their lungs, lashing out like all of them did. They are finally letting out all of their emotions, crying and screaming; yet still feels better than bottling everything up. They think maybe that’s how overblot characters felt.

All in all, everyone in NRC needs a counselor.

[ignitedbynatsu]

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Freed

A/N: aaah, don’t you just love it when you have a sudden rush of inspiration 🥰 Here is the long overdue version of Freed!! Thank you for your patience and support as always! Sting will be up next as promised, along with some request I recently got 💕

Warnings: swearing, insecurities (he makes you feel like you’re not good enough compared to Laxus)

Genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Sting ~ Rogue

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡

"Freed-" "not now, (Y/N)"

It had become a routine for you. You wanted to ask your boyfriend something, but he was too busy pining after Laxus. Should you really be that surprised? After all, how could you live up to the expectation that is Laxus?

Your anniversary was coming up, and you hoped he'd skip a job to spend the day with you.

You were currently at your home preparing Freed's favourite meal. You had bought some candles and fairy lights to create a romantic mood. Not only that, but you even went as far as buying an expensive bottle of champagne.

You hummed to yourself as you placed the lid on the pot to keep it warm. Everything was ready, all you had to do now was to get changed and wait for the man you love.

You picked out Freed's favourite dress on you, did your hair nice and put on some light makeup. You didn't want to go overboard since it was still just something small at home, but you had been together for 5 years, so you thought that you could at least put some effort in.

Once dolled up, you took a seat on the couch and waited. Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, and before you knew it a week had passed.

He didn't let you know he went on a mission that could take a week, so when he finally made it back to the guild, you were fuming.

"Hey, princess" you hadn't even noticed he had returned until he used your pet name.

You abruptly turned in your seat and narrowed your eyes at him, rage was dancing in your eyes as your lips turned into a scowl "What the fuck, Freed?"

The guild went silent as soon as the words left your mouth. All eyes were trained on you two, but you hardly noticed, completely consumed by your fury.

Freed was taken aback by your sudden outburst, eyes trailing that of his guildmates that were all staring at him intensely, waiting for a response "can we not do this here?"

"Why not?" You seethed "you didn't care when you left for a week without saying anything. You didn't care about our anniversary. So tell me, why should I care about getting angry at you in public?"

"(Y/N). I said not here" he warned you in a dangerously low tone. You could tell he was trying to keep his calm composure, but Freed hated confrontation, let alone in public.

"And I said I don't care. What you scared you to be viewed in a bad light by Laxus?" You challenged him.

He laughed mockingly as his best friends name left your mouth "is this what this is all about? Your insecurities about Laxus? You're being really petty right now, (Y/N)"

You breathed heavily as you stared at the man in front of you. The man you were supposed to be in love with, the man that was now minimalizing your insecurity "Fuck you"

You bumped your shoulder against him as you stormed out of the guild, not sparing anyone a second look.

Freed was left in shock by his own actions. You had every right to be upset with him. As soon as you revealed that your anniversary was last week, he wished the ground would open up and just swallow him whole. He was ashamed of losing his composure in front of everyone, but he was more ashamed of using your insecurities against you.

"And here I thought you were the smart one," Laxus said as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" Freed sighed.

"That's an understatement" Bickslow agreed.

"I need to go apologize" he mumbled as he left the guild as well, hoping you were still home.

As soon as he opened the front door, he saw you carrying out a suitcase, heavily packed with what he presumed was your stuff.

"(Y/N) I-" Freed started, but the words got caught in his throat as he looked at your broken expression. He felt sick knowing that he was the cause of it.

"Look, Freed" you sighed heavily, tiredness evident in your voice, making him wonder if you even slept at all in the week he had left "I don't want to fight right now. I know I'll never be able to be as good of a person as Laxus. I know I let you down. Honestly, I'm surprised you lasted 5 years with me since I never even came close to Laxus. I just... I can't do this any more-"

"No, no, no" Freed rushed to take the suitcase from you "don't you dare break up with me"

He placed a hand on your cheek. You instinctively melted into his touch as you looked up at him through glossy eyes "I'm so sorry, but I really can't do this. I can't live my life trying to be someone that I'm not. I can't live up to your expectations"

"Baby, no, hey" he wiped the tears from your cheek, never removing the palm of his hand once "I don't want you to be like Laxus. I never wanted that once in my life. I fell in love with you for who you are. Please don't leave me. I know I was stupid for leaving and not saying anything. I know I am an asshole for forgetting our anniversary, and I'm an even bigger asshole for turning your insecurities against you"

You silently listen to Freed as he frantically tried to stop you from leaving. His eyes were wild and bewildered as he kept switching between your eyes. He was scared to death, scared of the thought of losing you.

"Please give me a chance to redeem myself. I just need one more chance, please" Freed fell to his knees, desperately hugging your waist as his head was pressed against your stomach. He held on tightly as if he were to let go, you'd disappear in thin air.

You were stunned by his actions. His normal calm and emotionless demeanour complete crumbled down in front of you. You sink to the floor as well so the two of you were now seated on the cold surface with tear-filled eyes. "Alright"

His eyes locked with yours, searching for a hint of malice, but all he could find was love and hope "one more chance"

He pulled you closer so you were now basically sitting in his lap as your chests touched. His arm was protectively wrapped around your back as the other gently pressed your head in the crook of his neck. A small sobbed escaped your lips as you let all the stress of the past week engulf you. The insecurities that were swimming through your mind, the anger you felt towards Freed, you let it all out as he held on tight.

He rocked both of your bodies to calm you down "I promise to be better. I promise to never make you feel like you have to compare with Laxus ever again. You're the love of my life, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I am so sorry that I made you doubt yourself for even a second"

"I love you too, Freed" you mumbled as you finally calmed down in his embrace.

"I'll take a week off starting tomorrow to make up for the time we lost" he promised as he put some distance between you two, to look you in the eyes.

"With about Laxus" You frowned at his promise. You couldn't help but still feel a bit inferior to the dragon slayer despite all of Freed's reassuring words earlier.

"Who cares? You're the one that I love, not him. So what do you say? I'll take you to that new restaurant you wanted to go to tomorrow" he deflected your worries as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"I'd love that" You whispered before closing the gap and pressing your lips softly on his.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Jason//you’re all my birthday wishes rolled into one

Request: Can I request a Jason blossom where he gets jealous of the reader spend time with Cheryl it's because she and Cheryl are planning his birthday surprise

hey! i hope you like this!! i was a bit stuck at first, but thanks to @statticscribbles we managed to figure it out! 

Something’s not right. 

Jason can feel it in his bones, something is missing and it’s throwing him off everything. He’s lost every game for the past three weeks, he’s scored way below average on every test, and he just feels an aching sense of loss. Like when you go from having your phone in your back pocket all the time, to suddenly leaving it at home one day and you just know that it’s gone and that nothing will be right until you get it back. 

Yeah, that’s how he feels. But his phone is in his bag, like it always is during a game. No, it’s you. You’re the reason he feels like this, because you’re not where you usually are. Normally he doesn’t even have to look for you, you’re always sat in the same seat cheering him on, and usually he can hear you before he see’s you. 

But tonight he can’t, and it feels like the hole that you’ve left behind when you’re not there, has only grown bigger over the weeks. 

Usually he’s used to you being right there, always beside him with a bright smile and a sarcastic comment. You make him laugh when the weight of being a Blossom get’s too much, and he always replies the same thing, that he could make you a Blossom with just one question, but you never get the hint and he always get’s the same reply, ‘i don’t think your future wife would appreciate that.’ 

And he looks at you, as you usually get distracted by something else, and he longs to be able to tell you how he really feels. How when you’re stood beside him, he feels like he can do anything. That he’s not good at football because it’s in his genes, it’s because he knows you’re close and cheering him on. 

It’s something he’s felt ever since he was young, even when he didn’t know what it was that he was feeling. He just knew that if you were off sick, he would feel sick. And that if he asked to hang out and you were already busy with your family, he would mope around the house until he was able to see you again. He insisted on having you come to all of his birthday parties, even when you were on holiday, he would wait, much to the dismay of Cheryl, and then the two of them would have their birthday party a week later, just so you could be there. 

But then he looks to the side of the pitch, and he notices Cheryl watching the time on the board. She bites her lip as it slowly counts to the end of the game, and when the whistle is finally blown, she practically sprints back to the school, leaving Jason puzzled and sweaty. 

It seems like the only Blossom you want to hang out with recently, is her. The two of you have been inseparable, and he starts to see why people get so annoyed when he hangs out with you if that’s how the two of you act together. 

Whenever he walks into a room, you and Cheryl freeze and go silent. He hears the hushed phone calls and see’s all the sneaking about, and thinks that maybe you’ve had enough of him and now prefers her. 

He doesn’t blame you, she’s confident and funny and doesn’t take no for an answer, compared to him, she’s a lion and he’s a mouse. He’s confident, but not in the right places and it’s understandable that you would eventually realize who the better Blossom is. But it doesn’t sting any less, and it doesn’t stop him from wanting to cry every time he see’s the two of you together, always sneaking off to do something and coming up with the worst excuses when he questions either of you. 

He sighs and re-adjusts the bag on his shoulder. All of his friends have now disappeared, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the entire team move quicker while getting changed. They were practically sprinting out of the day as soon as Jason came out of the showers. 

So now he’s moping, with slightly soggy hair and a permanent frown. He lost the final game of the season and now he’ll have to go home and listen to his mom whine at him for something she’ll decide when she see’s him. 

His head hangs low as he shuffles down the dark corridor and he wonders what you’re doing. He tries to think back to the last time you had an actual conversation, and whether or not he said something that could have upset you. But he can’t think of any reason why you’d be ignoring him, and how in a weeks time he’s going to be eighteen and he’ll be celebrating with everyone but who he truly wants. 

He thought his tenth birthday sucked, it was the year you got chicken pox and became banned from anywhere that wasn’t your house. He remembers looking around at all of his friends, and even then he knew that something wasn’t right because you weren’t there. 

Now, almost eight years later he feels the same, only this time he knows what he’s feeling. He loves you, he’s so in love with you that when you’re not around he feels like half of him is gone. He doesn’t know how to function without you, you make him feel safe and loved, just by standing beside him. 

“Hey!” Archie shouts causing him to stop and turn around. “Coach wants to talk to you in the gym.” He adds before walking in the opposite direction. Jason frowns and then sighs heavily before dragging his feet back up the corridor and towards the gym.

The wooden doors open with a loud creak, and he huffs, knowing that he is no doubt going to be shouted at. Why can’t he just go home and cry in silence like he normally does when he’s stressed? 

“Surprise!” His eyes widen at the sudden noise and he looks up and locks eyes with you, grinning and holding a party popper with too much enthusiasm. He then looks behind you, and notices everyone else. All his friends, his family, even some people that he has no idea who they are, they’re all stood grinning at him. 

Cheryl stands beside him and wraps an arm around his shoulder, while you shove a party hat on his head. 

“Happy birthday JJ.” She says and squeezes him. Music plays through the speakers and Jason smiles at the opening lyrics of his favourite song. You smile up at him, and then wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug and he lets out a breath he feels like he’s been holding for the last three weeks. 

“Happy birthday!” You grin and motion to the decorated gym. It’s covered in balloons and banners and pretty lights. There’s a football theme throughout, even down the cake that has clearly been decorated by you and Cheryl seeing as though it’s wonky and has some of the icing missing from the back. 

Tears sting in his eyes and you look at him concerned.

“Is it too much? I’m so sorry, it’s just we wanted it to be really special because it’s a big birthday but I knew we should have just done it somewhere a little smaller but Cheryl insisted the gym becaus-” You’re cut off by his lips on your and your eyes widen as his hands cup your cheeks. 

You can hear gasps and cheers from behind you and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, which is then quickly taken over by the need to kiss him back. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you and the cheers get louder, however, you can’t hear them. The only thing you can hear is your own heartbeat.

“I thought you preferred Cheryl over me.” He laughs once he pulls away, his voice barely above a whisper and you giggle quietly. 

“Never, you’re my favourite.” You reply. 

“Understandable.” He shrugs and Cheryl rolls her eyes at him. “But you’d been hanging around with her so much that it just felt like you’d forgotten I existed and I didn’t know what to do without you, which I know sounds really stupid because now I know that you were planning all of this and it’s incredible, thank you.” He rambles and presses another kiss to your lips. “This is the best birthday ever.” He whispers in your ear and you feel your cheeks heat up as a shy smile pulls at your lips. 

“As happy as I am for you both, seeing as though I have been waiting ten years for this to happen.” Cheryl motions between the two of you. “But this cost a lot of money and a lot of time, so if we could get to the partying now and then you can sort out whatever this is later on, that would be great.” 

You and Jason look at each other and roll your eyes, but the matching smiles on your faces prove that neither of you care about the party anymore, the only thing that matters is that you’re by his side again, but this time there’s no small gap between you where the line between friends and something more sits, it’s been crossed and held tightly in your intertwined fingers. 

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[nightwishesworld]

Food Poisoning

What’s that? I should be working on the 12+ asks in my inbox instead of doing my own stuff??? Whoopsie

In all fairness I’m not super proud of this anyway, so I guess it balances itself out

“It must have been quite the night for Daniela to be sleeping in this late,” you say over your morning coffee.

“Was it?” Cassandra, ever the lady, asked while a mouthful of breakfast. “I didn’t realize she went out to hunt.”

Bela nodded as she sipped her tea. “She looked a little worse for wear after dinner, don’t you think, Mother?”

“I noticed that as well, yes. I hope she’s not falling ill.”

“Wait, can vampires even get sick?”

“Not if they’re careful enough. But in short, yes, my dear, it is very possible. If our food is less than healthy when ingested we will get sick. Nothing major, rather similar to food poisoning in fact.”

“Ok, well should we go check your stocks? Maybe she ate something rancid.”

Alcina shook her head. “I’m sure she’s fine, y/n. It’s probably just one of those days for her. Besides, if she were ill that means all of us would be as well, and I don’t know about you girls, but I feel perfectly fine this morning.”

Both Cassandra and Bela nodded along.

“Unless she ate that weird guy she abducted from the bar. Maybe he wasn’t just drunk? He could have been sick. Also, I hate how blasé I’ve become to you guys eating people. You’ve officially numbed me.”

Alcina rolled her eyes at your dramatics while the girls giggled. “What are the odds of that, though? Consuming the only subject in the entire basement that hasn’t been thoroughly tested.”

You share a look with Bela and Cassandra. “You remember who we’re talking about, right Alcina?”

She exhales slowly, blowing tiny ripples on the surface of her wine. “Goddammit, I suppose I should go check on her.”

You already stood from your seat. “No, no you just sat down; I’ll go. What are the odds, anyway? Daniela is smarter than that.”

It was a short walk to Daniela’s chambers once you made it upstairs. You know you’re going to find her ill in bed, you just know it. The thrill of the kill makes her reckless even in the best of times. You know for a fact she devoured that weird old man the very night she dragged him home. Now your only hope is she’s not cursed with anything more than a stomach ache.

The putrid smell of stomach acid reeked even outside Daniela’s closed door. On instinct you wanted to rush in there and help her, but who’s to say she isn’t asleep? The smell could have been from last night and she was just too exhausted to clean it up before passing out. Not that that made you feel any better. Poor Daniela sicker than a dog all by herself with no one to hold her hair up or rub her back.

You steadied yourself enough to knock a couple of times before opening the door a crack. Just enough to be able to peek through.

“Daniela?” No answer.

It doesn’t look like she’s in bed either. Then you heard the retching. You wasted no time rushing in to find her hunched over a wastebasket on the floor. You gathered her hair away from her face, kneeled down next to her, and tried desperately to ignore the smell. The last thing needed is both of you throwing up.

“Are you alright, darling?”

It was a stupid question, but the words left your mouth before you could censor yourself. That didn’t stop the redhead from glaring up at you. Her eyes were glossy and red, probably from lack of sleep.

You waited a few minutes while her breathing steadied before letting go of her. “Will you be ok while I go get your mother?”

She gave a single nod.

You rush out of the room and head for the stairs. You consider rushing down and risk tripping over yourself but ultimately decide to tell for her.

“ALCINA!”

She was heading up the stairs almost immediately after you called like she was waiting for you to do so. “She’s retching on the floor.” Alcina sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I was really hoping you were wrong.” “Me too. What should we do?” Alcina opened the door to her daughter’s bedroom and immediately rushed to her side. “My poor darling, what happened?” All Daniela could bring herself to do was shake her head. Alcina kissed her temple. “I think that old drunk expired and no one told him.” That got a smile on Daniela’s lips. Alcina proceeded to wipe the dribbles of bile off her daughter’s lips with her dress. You entered the room but kept your distance from the pair. Both because you wanted to give them space and because the smell was making you nauseous. If it's making you feel sick then you can't imagine how crummy Daniela is feeling. "Why don't you bring her to our room and I'll clean this mess up."

"Don't worry about that, y/n. I'll deal with it later. Right now I need you to go tell Bela and Cassandra to ready themselves for a trip down to the village. I need the old witch to brew a few tonics for Daniela." You nodded quickly and start hurrying out of the room. "Make sure Bela brings her glass vials!"

The girls departed for the village with haste. They said it's been decades since any of them fell ill and any herbs or tonics they had laying around the castle would have lost their effect years ago. You panicked a bit when Cassandra asked what she should be asking the witch for cause you had absolutely no idea. Before you gave yourself a panic attack trig to figure it out, Bela reassured you she knew what to do. Some items could only be obtained from the witch's hut, which is where Cassandra was being sent, while others could be purchased in the village shops.

As soon as you saw them off you busied yourself with cleaning Daniela's room. It took a while, way longer than it should have, but it got done and that's all that matters. The smell was putrid enough standing in the doorway so being right in the middle of it made you really nauseous. Scrubbing the smell out of the wooden floorboards took up most of your morning, but making Daniela happy and comfortable was well worth the effort.

You rewarded yourself with a hot shower for your valiancy though. After you freshened up you found everyone curled up together in the library. Daniela was laying on her back, with her head resting on her mother's lap as she read a book. Bela was curled up in a ball next to Alcina while Cassandra laid stretched out on the floor with her chin resting on Alcina's knee. It was probably the cutest thing you've ever seen. Not wanting to ruin such a wholesome family interaction you quietly exited the library before any of them noticed you were there.

The next few days passed like this. Alcina was driving herself to exhaustion making sure Daniela was as comfortable as possible and you did the same to her in turn. The easiest way to get the matriarch to relax was by giving her a back massage. You straddled her bare back and slowly kneaded away at her aching muscles. Her occasional sounds of pleasure encourage your ministrations.

"How can one woman have so many knots?"

"I don't know; stress, work, lack of sleep, posture?"

You laugh. "Wasn't actually looking for an answer, Al. And don't try to tell me you haven't been sleeping. I haven't been sleeping because your snoring keeps waking me up."

Alcina turned to give you a look of disgust. "I do not snore."

"You do when you're stressed. Weirdest thing, by the way."

She opened her mouth to respond but only let out a pained hiss as you moved down to her shoulder blades.

"Too much?"

"No, just sore. You can keep going."

"Yeah, I can see that. I'm just trying to get your muscles to relax, nothing crazy."

Alcina sighs and relaxes back into the pillows.

"I'm gonna start going a little harder, ok? It's getting better, but try to not hold your breath if you can help it."

Alcina lets out a long exhale in submission. She hadn't even realized she was holding it in. The way you were moving your hands down her body made her cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Sorry, Love."

"Don't worry about it, just keep going."

A comfortable silence passes between the two of you. Your mind wanders back to Daniela. It was surreal to see her moping around the castle.

"Do you think Daniela would like a backrub? I heard her say her body aches earlier."

"That's sweet though, my love, but let's just leave her be for now. I think she finally succumbed to the tonics."

"Ah, I understand. Is she feeling any better?"

Alcina shakes her head into the pillow. "Not yet, but the tonics are helping keep her stomach calm."

You feel the weight of an anvil release from your chest. "Thank the gods, I really don't want to clean up any more sick."

"No one told you to in the first place."

"I know. I just thought she would want to be comfy in her own room."

"I appreciate everything you're doing for her, y/n. Daniela does too, she's just not great at vocalizing it."

"She doesn't have to. I'll gladly take care of my family."

One night you come home from the village really late at night and come home to find Daniela snuggling with Alcina in bed. It’s the sweetest sight.

Alcina’s got an arm wrapped around Daniela’s middle, holding her close but not suffocatingly so. Daniela’s head is tucked under her mother’s chin, face buried in her neck.

You take in the sight before moving to give Alcina a kiss on the cheek (you would Daniela too but don’t want to wake her. She needs all the sleep she can get.) and move to leave for a guest bedroom just down the hall.

Alcina stirs and you apologize for waking her.

“I was only dozing,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. Mihaela was accepting drinks left and right, I had to make sure she got home safe.”

“How noble of you.” Alcina lets out a lion’s yawn.

“Go back to bed, Love. I’ll check on you both in the morning.”

“Daniela was waiting for you to come back, but fell asleep.” Alcina turned her attention back to her youngest daughter and kissed her sweaty temple.

“She feeling any better?”

“Her fever did go down a bit, so we’re on the road to recovery. A slow and winding road, but going in the right direction nonetheless.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank god. She was starting to really scare me. Do you think we should call that old bat up here to take a look at her? What if she doesn’t get better soon, then what?”

“But she is, darling. I just told you her fever is down. She still has a little bit of a fever, but progress is progress. In a few day's time, she will be much better.”

“You’re probably right,” you lean over Alcina and brush loose strands of hair out of Daniela’s face. “I just wish I could do more. I’d rather it be me instead of poor Daniela.”

“I’d rather it be neither of you,” Alcina mumbled.

“It’s just so scary to see her like this; so vulnerable and weak...”

“I’m not weak.” A groggy mumbling came from Alcina’s chest.

“Hey, Daniela, how are you feeling? Any better?”

The redhead nodded into her mother’s neck. “A little.”

“Good,” you smile. “You go back to sleep now, ok? I’ll come to check on you in the morning.”

“Wher’re you goin?”

“I’m gonna go sleep in a guest room so you can be with your mother.”

The hand wrapped around Alcina’s waist comes to grab your wrist. She said something but you couldn’t make it out. All you heard was muffled groaning.

“Don’t worry, Dani. This way you can have the whole side of the bed to yourself. I’ll come to check on you in the morning.”

She didn’t let go.

“Don’t you wanna be alone with your mother? I really don’t mind, Daniela, honestly.”

Daniela buried herself deeper under the covers. “You don’t understand. I-I want...both.”

“Both what?”

Daniela didn’t say anything. She only cuddled into Alcina’s chest.

Oh....OH!

You clamped a hand down on Alcina’s arm, unknowingly digging your nails into her skin.

“Are...are you sure, Dani?”

The redhead nodded into her mother, who then answered for her.

Your stomach fluttered with the wings of a thousand butterflies. Daniela never referred to you as a parental figure before, let alone call you her mother. “Alright then. If you’re sure that’s what you want.” You move to your side of the bed and crawled in, careful not to press against her too much.

Daniela lets put an irritated groan and reaches behind her to grab your arm and wrap it around herself. Yanking you against her along the way. She must be really sick. Since when did Daniela Dimitrescu demand cuddles? Especially from you. The only thing she ever demanded of you was to help her sharpen weapons or make up with Alcina after an argument.

She wriggled away from Alcina just enough to feel you behind her. She was still sandwiched pretty tight between the two of you, but if this is what she wants you aren’t complaining. She brought your hand up towards her chest so as to keep it away from her cramping stomach.

Her head was tucked in under your chin because you didn't want to breathe all over the back of her neck. Daniela was beyond glad you were still holding onto her, even though she would never say it out loud.

You made sure to tell her you would let go of her if cuddling got too hot, or cold, or stifling for her. The redhead groaned a response and nodded into Alcina’s chest.

Rather than having your arms wrapped around her, (that implied a certain amount of pressure) your arm was laying over her side and bent to her form without any sort of pressure so Daniela wouldn't feel trapped or constricted. Really more draped over her than wrapped around her.

But she was holding onto your forearm tight to keep you there even if she shifted somewhat frequently because she wanted you to stay.

“I’m sorry you have to feel like this, Daniela. I hope you start to feel better.” You threw caution to the wind and kissed the top of her head. To your surprise, Daniela cuddled further into you. It absolutely melted you.

You pepper her head with kisses. “My poor darling. I wish I could make it all go away.”

Alcina smiles warmly at the display as she repositions herself comfortably against the pillows. She leans forward to kiss the top of Daniela's head. "Promise me you'll wake us if you need anything?"

Daniela nods into her chest.

"Or if you can't fall asleep," you add.

Alcina leaned forward to kiss you goodnight, accidentally smothering her daughter in her chest. "Goodnight, my loves. Sleep well."

[nobodyfamousposts]

Miracle Queen Aftermath

Because there is a disappointing lack of focus or depth for the aftermath of Miracle Queen in canon, I have made my own.

Be warned of: Chloe salt. A lot of it. Chloe faces consequences for things.

Some Bustier salt. Some Adrien being called out on things (but he gets better).

Enjoy!

In the weeks following the Miracle Queen incident, a lot had happened.

Hawk Moth had increased his power, and was now able to summon akumas and amoks at the same time.

Master Fu was gone and now Ladybug found herself the official Guardian of the Miraculous—along with the Miracle Box, kwamis, and duties that entails.

Marinette had resolved to let go of her crush on Adrien, and to support him and Kagami in their new relationship together.

And Chloe had been arrested and would now be going on trial for assisting a terrorist.

It was that last bit of news that had caused the most commotion in Paris and the world at large. What people would have dismissed as simply another akuma attack turned into a much greater matter when accusations started to be made about Chloe helping the super villain intentionally. This was soon backed by multiple eyewitness accounts and further proven by leaked video evidence showing Chloe not only attempting to grab a butterfly for herself after she was de-akumatized but even negotiating with the terrorist before the incident in which she betrayed the heroes of Paris and revealed the identities of most of the team.

To say that the people of Paris were outraged was putting it mildly. People were akumatized over it. Chloe was in a secured facility where she had armed guards around to watch her just as much as they were there to protect her. New legislation was being considered to specifically address willingly aiding supervillains. The backlash was so severe that many were calling the mayor’s own position into question.

After all, if his daughter could do all of that, who was to say that he wasn’t also in Hawk Moth’s pocket?

For Mayor Andre, his hands were tied. While he had covered for his daughter and her selfishness in the past, this was one thing he couldn’t overlook. Not when it brought his position as mayor under scrutiny. And certainly not when it opened a probe into his own dealings.

None of this was helped either by the multitude of witnesses of Chloe‘s past behavior. In particular, her many victims over the years.

And there were a lot.

Now that Chloe was actually being held accountable for something, it seemed to have opened a floodgate of outcries as the many people she tormented finally felt able to air their grievances. They came out on TV, on social media, on radio. Stories littered the air and internet of the horrors of dealing with this single teenage girl.

“She tried to cheat during this designing competition. She apparently stole some other girl’s hat design and tried to pass it off as her own.”

“She was the reason the mayor tried to shut down my ice skating rink! To build another gym! Paris has enough gyms! Why couldn’t she just go to one of those?”

“She had her dad shut down Clara Nightingale’s music video and got her akumatized just because she didn’t get to play Ladybug. We waited in that line for HOURS and didn’t get chosen either, but no one else threw a fit over it.”

“She shoved a giant signed poster of Adrien Agreste professing his love to her in my friend’s face just to make her cry! I found out after the fact that he didn’t even know about it!”

“Our entire school was punished for someone pulling the fire alarm except for her because she threatened our principal. So while the rest of us were having to clean up the school, she spent the entire time insulting and making fun of us.“

“Knowing her, she probably pulled the fire alarm in the first place.”

“She tried to crash a train! I don’t think I can emphasize that enough: she tried to crash a train!“

“Chloe Bourgeois joined up with Hawk Moth? Can’t say it’s a shock.”

“Yeah, given how many akumas she caused, I’d been wondering if she hadn’t been working with him all along.”

It wasn’t that unbelievable to the populous. Nor did anyone feel particularly sympathetic towards her for her current situation. Some might have for lack of knowing her, but Chloe had carved herself a special place in the memories and hearts of nearly every Parisian. There was nobody who didn’t know of her or have some experience with her by this point. So when it came out that she was arrested and facing criminal charges, the response was…rather telling.

Practically everyone was calling loved ones as soon as they heard, resulting in high phone and internet traffic. The Ladyblog crashed after making the announcement. Several people threw parties. People over the internet started coming up with a list of “Things We Will Be Allowed To Do Once Chloe Is In Prison”, with a count that currently rested at 139 and was rising quickly. One guy bought 500 cupcakes and just started passing them out to people on the street singing a jaunty little tune from some late 1930’s cult classic American movie. The school had closed down for a couple of days due to several teachers calling out sick—possibly with hangovers from celebrating a bit too hard. Various Queen-related hashtags and memes were trending with each seeming to fight for the top spot of most used. #let her eat cake was currently in the lead. And Mr. Ramier somehow orchestrated a 21 pigeon salute. On Chloe’s rooftop.

As it was, nobody expressed surprise when it came out that she worked with a supervillain. Many were disappointed, shaking their heads and saying “if only something had been done sooner” or blaming the parents and teachers and other adults in her life. Most were angry, mainly that things had been allowed to get this far and that they hadn’t been acted on earlier—particularly after the train incident.

But no. Nobody was surprised.

Except, perhaps, Marinette herself.

Still reeling from the events of Miracle Queen and the aftermath of…well…everything involved, Marinette had been questioning herself. Constantly. Incessantly. Going over and over in her mind all the things she could have done differently. Blaming herself for all the major blows to their team.

She lost her mentor. Her allies have been compromised. Chloe, one of her former allies, chose to betray them all. Hawk Moth had the grimoire now. Marinette didn’t have a grimoire. Fu had no memories.

And it was all because of her mistakes.

Last time, the prospect of never having to deal with Chloe again had been a relief.

Now…it was background static to her.

She could barely hear the announcements and cheers over the endless cycle of her own thoughts.

I should have tried harder. I should have been more aware. I failed them all. This is because of me.

So while everyone else in Paris was celebrating, de-stressing, or just outright reveling in the news, Marinette was grieving. With the help of the kwamis and Chat Noir, she had been trying to come to terms with what happened and figure out the next plan of action.

Hawk Moth had changed the game, so she needed to step up hers.

The days seemed to have passed in a blur. Between working with the kwamis, trying to recreate and retranslate the grimoire, and simply trying to deal with the remnants of Fu’s life that he had left to her, Marinette had barely even kept up with the current state of things in Paris. Or in particular, Chloe.

Not until the day came when Bustier made an announcement.

Chloe‘s trial date was finally decided. And though she didn’t say as such, it was clear that the case against her was pretty solid. There was video evidence. Eye witness accounts. And Chloe’s own words and actions working against her.

The odds were not in her favor on this. Even if her parents did try to help her, she wasn’t going to get off this time. Aside from getting the best lawyers money by, there really wasn’t much they could do.

Maybe that was why Bustier had tried to step in?

“Now class, I have received word that they are moving to the next step with Chloe’s hearing. Right now, they are looking for character witnesses for Chloe’s defense.” The kind teacher explained, causing Marinette to snap to awareness and realize just what was going on. Partly because of the mention of Chloe and her court case.

But mostly because of the sudden dead silence in the class…

To be fair, she wasn’t sure she could say anything either. Marinette felt her throat go dry and her muscles tense. There was a sudden tightness in her lungs that while she could breathe, it felt like she was suffocating. Why was Bustier bringing this up now?

The teacher smiled, seemingly unaware of the sudden tension and Marinette’s slow drowning. “I know this has been a difficult experience knowing that one of your classmates is facing such a trial. And Chloe will certainly need support. So I thought it would be kind if everyone wrote a letter supporting her for the hearing coming up, so the courts can hear about Chloe and understand more about who she is.”

Silence. Dead silence.

Maybe Bustier herself picked up on the growing tension, as she proceeded to move to passing out papers to the class. “I thought it would make for a nice project, so I will give you all the forms explaining the requirements. Take some time to think over what positive things you want to say about Chloe. If you have any questions, please feel free to come talk to me.”

After that, she quickly left the room, citing the desire to let them have this free time to work on the letters.

The class remained silent for a good minute after she left. Almost as if they were questioning if she would return. Or perhaps if she was listening.

Then—

“‘Think about what positive things we want to say about Chloe?’ Well that’s easy!” Alix spoke blithely, curling the paper she received into a ball. “Nothing!” She shouted and tossed it over her shoulder. “Assignment done!”

Murmurs filled the classroom. Some sounded uncertain, but most seemed to be in agreement. Or at least expressing distaste for the assignment.

“Is she serious?”

“Does she really expect us to?”

“Of all the worst ideas...”

Marinette could hear them, but couldn’t seem to acknowledge anything around her. And furthermore, she couldn’t make herself respond.

Chloe‘s trial was set for a point in the next few weeks, and at this point there was no denying just what type of person she was. If anything, this was probably the first time that anyone was allowed to actually speak their mind about the girl, and they were all reveling in it. Her classmates in particular.

Marinette couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Sure, Chloe has tried to blackmail her more than once.

And damaged her gift to their teacher.

And attempted to frame her a few times.

And stolen her hat design.

And her diary.

And a Miraculous.

And all of the other Miraculous.

But...she had been doing better for a while there, hadn’t she?

Didn’t she only betray them all in the end because Marinette had chosen Kagami over her for her own selfish reasons? Didn’t Hawk Moth only capture Fu because of her own mistake? Hadn’t Chloe only revealed everyone else because she felt betrayed? Couldn’t Marinette have done more to prevent Chloe turning?

Wasn’t a simple letter on Chloe’s virtues the least she could do?

So why...

Why couldn’t she seem to bring herself to?

Kim frowned, looking at his paper in worry. “We’re not going to get graded on this, are we?”

Nathaniel huffed. “I’ll willingly take the failing grade any day.”

“Hear hear!”

“But if it’s a grade…” Max murmured to himself. Out of everyone in the class, he took his grades the most seriously, so this was no doubt a difficult choice for him. He looked at his paper with a rather conflicted expression for a minute before sighing and turning it face-down on the desk. “No. It’s an impossible task in the first place.”

Kim rested a hand on Max’s shoulder in sympathy. It wasn’t that he cared as much about grades as Max did, but it was clear that the fallout of refusing could be more troubling for the genius who took his academic performance so seriously. If Bustier did make it a mandatory assignment with a grade, it’d be horribly unfair of her.

“What was it Chloe said before?” Ivan asked, looking over his page with a glare. “Once a monster, always a monster? I guess she’d know more than anyone.”

Mylene hugged him. “You’re not a monster. You never chose to be.”

“None of us did.” Nino agreed.

“Nobody did except her.” Alix bit out.

Mumbles of agreement came from the rest of the class. It was clear that none of them were on board with having anything to do with Chloe, much less try to help her with her current legal woes.

There was a large part of Marinette that agreed with them. But even so, there was also a large part of her that insisted she had to do the right thing and help.

She knew she should say something. She was supposed to say something here. Because it was her fault, after all. She was Ladybug. She had to be the better person. Shouldn’t she?

“Marinette? Girl, are you okay?” Alya asked, drawing her attention. “You look a bit pale.”

It was too much. It was suffocating.

“I think I need some air. Excuse me.”

She didn’t know if anyone watched her leave the classroom. She hadn’t even noticed if anyone had chosen to follow her.

Not until…

“Marinette, are you all right?”

She spun around in surprise.

“Oh! Adrien! Hey! Hi! Hello!” She blabbered. Why was he here? Did he come out after her? Why? She didn’t need this right now! She struggled enough with him under normal circumstances, she wasn’t sure she could handle being alone with him now. Her stress over everything was bad enough, but having him approach her set her anxiety skyrocketing.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at her—and oh, what a beautiful smile. On any other day, it would ease her worries and make her want to swoon, but right now, it just made her more nervous.

“Are you all right?” He asked again. “You didn’t look so well in class.”

“Y-yeah. Just…” she sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind. With…you know…everything.”

He nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean.”

She smiled. She could always count on Adrien to be a calming supportive friend. He was always so sweet and reliable. If anyone could understand or relate to the chaotic mix of emotions she was feeling, he could.

He sighed in sympathy. “Poor Chloe.”

She froze.

“Chloe?”

“Well, yeah.” He replied, like it was obvious. “I mean, she did a bad thing, but now she’s going through the worst experience of her life. One that could ruin her future. And people are glad about it!” He shook his head. “It’s just too cruel.”

Marinette just stared.

He wasn’t wrong. But…that was what he was worried about?

She couldn’t fault him of course, because Adrien was always so kind and considerate and of course he’d feel for Chloe but…something about this just…pulled at something inside of her and was choking it.

“Chloe is already suffering enough and it feels like no one wants to help her. You heard them.” He gestured back to the classroom. “We’re being given an opportunity to make a difference for her and they’re all just saying she deserves it. Chloe is alone and hurting and they want her to hurt more.”

She felt a denial on her lips but couldn’t give voice to it.

“Everyone is so great with each other. It’s always just Chloe who is kind of on the outside. I know you’ve seen it.”

She hadn’t, actually. Because it was never Chloe on the outside looking in, it was Chloe looking down on them. Whether it was because she genuinely thought she was better or because it made her feel better to do so.

He hesitated for a moment before looking at her. And there was something in his expression that told her he was about to ask something. A gut feeling told her that it was going to be something she wouldn’t like.

“Do you think you could talk to them?” He asked her, looking so sad and despondent that she just wanted to hug him and agree to anything to make that look go away.

“M-me?”

He wanted her to convince her classmates to help Chloe?

“I know you and Chloe have had your differences, but you’ve been able to see past her front. And you’ve done a lot to help her before.” He smiled. “Like the party you threw for her after she became Queen Bee.”

A traitorous voice asked if giving her a second chance with the Miraculous she had previously stolen wasn’t enough? Why did she have to feel bad for her leaving and throw her a party to make her feel special?

“Chloe really needs the help right now. And you’re always so good about that sort of thing.” He looked to her imploringly. “Do you think you could try to get them to at least give Chloe a hand? I don’t know what impact it’ll have in her hearing, but any little bit helps, right?”

Go back in there? With the tension and the suffocation to try and convince her classmates to help when she was questioning whether to herself?

But she had to, right? After all, couldn’t she have prevented this if she had acted sooner? Couldn’t she have helped sooner instead of being focused on her own petty problems? Isn’t that what Ladybug should do?

“Please, Marinette? They listen to you. If you asked them to, I’m sure they’d be willing to at least try.”

Her vision started to dim, seeming to tunnel in on Adrien and his sad and hopeful expression. Her thoughts crying about CHLOE and poor CHLOE and how hurt CHLOE was and how it was her fault for CHLOE—

“I—”

“Oh no! No, you do NOT.”

Marinette suddenly found herself torn away from Adrien by a sudden grab of her arm and pulling sensation. She felt as if she was pushed out of the way by a fierce gale. Like a raging whirlwind had spun her around and behind it.

That whirlwind’s name was Alya.

“How dare you? How dare you try to make my girl be responsible for this!”

Marinette floundered because she had not expected this and oh no now her best friend looked ready to tear her crush’s head off!

“Alya, we don’t have to do this!” She pleaded, trying to calm the other girl down.

“Oh, we most certainly do.” Came another voice. And sure enough, the rest of the class had stepped out as well. All of them looked in varying ranges of frustrated and that frustration was clearly directed at her and Adrien.

Or rather just Adrien, as Marinette discovered when Rose and Juleka pulled her aside and out of their direct line of sight. They were all looking at Adrien, and those were not nice or understanding expressions.

Oh no! This was a disaster! Now everyone was upset and she should have just agreed or said something sooner!

Completely unaware of Marinette’s inner turmoil, Alya stepped forward and jabbed at Adrien in the chest. “You are not going to make my girl feel bad and try to help someone who has never done a single nice thing for her or anyone.” She spat out, forcing him to back away.

Adrien held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Come on, Chloe is not that bad.“

“Not that bad?” Nino exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s words. “Adrien, Chloe betrayed us!“

“She took over Paris!”

“She turned us into her servants!“

“Not to mention the other things…”

“Do we really have to name each time?” Alya started to count on her fingers. “Chloe CHOSE to take the Miraculous for herself instead of returning it. She CHOSE to transform in front of everyone and reveal her identity to the world. She CHOSE to try and crash a train, risking the lives of EVERYONE on board just to show off. She CHOSE to run off with it when Ladybug tried to take it back.”

“She also chose to continue being horrible to everyone even after Ladybug gave her a second chance.” Nathaniel added, bitterly. “She didn’t get better after becoming Queen Bee. It just became another thing for her to lord over people.”

Alya nodded. “And when Ladybug made it clear to her that she wasn’t going to be Queen Bee again, she felt ENTITLED to something that was never hers in the first place. And because of that, she made the active, knowing, and willful choice to work with Hawk Moth.”

“And out all of us while she was at it.” Kim added. “Turning us into her personal ‘guard’. Making us fight our heroes against our will.” He shuddered. “I don’t know if you were hit by those things, Adrien, but it was NOT a pleasant experience having your body turned into a puppet.”

Adrien wanted to argue that he understood full well, but that was only as Chat. He couldn’t say that here.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Alya continued. “So no, we are not going to forgive Chloe. We are not going to try and ‘get along’ with her because her own poor choices have led her to have a ‘rough time’.”

Adrien grew nervous at the way the others drew closer to Alya as she spoke, clearly backing her statements as she continued.

“We are not going to defend her or speak up on her behalf to the entirety of Paris she ALSO betrayed. Whatever consequences Chloe has to face—quite possibly the first ones she will EVER have faced in her LIFE—are nothing less than what she deserves.”

“Yeah!” Came the exclamations from the rest of the crowd.

“She didn’t know what she was doing!” Adrien argued.

“Not know what she was doing?! Adrien, she willingly accepted an akuma! She used it to take control of us and revealed us to Hawk Moth!” Alya exclaimed. “That’s just—how can you even justify that?”

With as angry as Alya was, any lesser or wiser man would have backed off.

Adrien…well, she certainly would never call him unwise, so it had to be because he was more strong-willed than that to be willing to stand his ground here.

“Hawk Moth was the one who manipulated Chloe!” He insisted. “And he’s the one who got away scott free and left Chloe to take the fall.”

“And whose fault was that?” Alya countered. “Chloe HELPED him. He only got as far as he did because of her and he only got away because she helped him!”

“Don’t you think this is cruel?” He argued back. “Yes, Chloe was wrong, but she was already called out for what she did by Ladybug and Chat Noir. The entire city hates her. Isn’t that enough?”

“NO!” Alya shouted. “No, it isn’t! Because Chloe has always gotten away with her antics in the past but you’re actually trying to get us to let Chloe off for a legitimate crime here! If Chloe is going to prison, it’s only because she deserves it!”

Around them, several of the others in the class nodded in agreement.

“How can you say that?” Adrien demanded. “Chloe made a mistake and she’s suffering for it! All this time, she’s felt left out and cut off and this only further emphasizes that for her! She’s been alone all this time and now she’s alone and miserable!”

“Then why should that be OUR problem?” Alya questioned, raising her hands in exasperation. “Why are you trying to MAKE it our problem?!”

Adrien drew back, looking genuinely hurt.

"But treating someone badly never made them become a good person."

"Yeah, because letting Chloe have her way all this time has totally made strides in her path to becoming a good person." Alix called out sarcastically.

"If anything, it's made her worse." Max added. "She's gone from simply causing akumas to intentionally becoming one."

“But—”

Alya cut him off. “But nothing, Adrien! You have to have some gall to be trying to get us to make nice with Chloe after she betrayed us all! And here I thought your little lecture to Marinette to make her feel bad for being relieved that Chloe was leaving Paris was pretty hard to beat.”

Nino blanched at that. “You did what?” He turned on Adrien. “Dude! You know that happened after Chloe tried to crash that train!”

“She was just trying to prove herself.” Adrien weakly argued.

“PEOPLE were on there!” Nino bit out. “They could have DIED because Chloe was showing off! And you got on to MARINETTE? Where was this attitude with Chloe?”

“I’ve called her out!”

“Yeah, one time.” Alya groused. “AFTER the rest of us had spent the better part of the day cleaning up after HER mess. Which she never apologized for or admitted to doing, by the way.”

“And in response, she threw a party.” Juleka muttered.

“It was a nice party, sure.” Rose added quickly.

Alya though shook her head. “But being a good hostess is nowhere near the same thing as being a good person. And before the night was over, you rolled over for her and she went RIGHT back to acting as she always had.”

“She made Mylene cry.” Ivan glared. “She made Mylene cry and you just laughed.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You said it yourself: ‘she’ll never change’. Except you said that like it was a good thing.”

Marinette looked back and forth between the two, everything inside her screaming at her to help. But she was completely lost on which one she was supposed to help. Because Adrien had a point about what Chloe’s going through but Alya was right about what Chloe did and she needed to do the “right thing” and help Chloe but why did everything Alya say resonate so strongly with her and bring such a feeling of vindication—

No. She was getting distracted. She needed to help. And right now, it was Adrien against the rest of the class.

But Alya was worked up. And Adrien was looking past her to Marinette, eyes begging for help and still so hopeful that she would step in. And Chloe was still in prison and Marinette could fix everything if she just tried so why can’t she try?

“Alya,” Marinette tried. “You told me to give Chloe a chance before after the fire alarm incident, remember? You said we were a lot alike.”

“That was to get you to go to a party!” Alya shouted, making Marinette step back in surprise. “I never meant it like this!”

She stepped forward and took Marinette by the shoulders, holding her sternly.

“Marinette, you are nothing like Chloe! Not where it counts! Yeah, you both can be short sighted when it comes to trying for what you want, but you at least notice and CARE how other people feel! And when you make a mistake, you at least TRY to make it right!”

She shook her head.

“Chloe…doesn’t.”

“She doesn’t try to.” Alix cut in. “If Chloe was feeling sad and lonely, that was pretty much her own fault.”

Adrien looked like he wanted to argue, but Alix didn’t even give him a chance.

“It wasn’t like we left her out. We went well out of our way to try and befriend her. We invited her to things. We tried to help her. Hell, you said it yourself—Marinette has tried to help her more than anybody! And each and every time, Chloe only took what we offered like it was something we owed her but that she was also too good for. I mean, I certainly can’t recall a time she ever thanked me. Can you?” She asked, turning to the other classmates.

All around them, there were murmurs of agreement. Maybe a couple hesitated as they tried to recall a time—one single moment of kindness on Chloe’s part only to come up empty.

“Chloe’s had a hard time.” Adrien insisted. “You know how her parents are—”

“Oh yes, her ‘Daddy the Mayor’.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Like we don’t hear enough about him every time it comes to something Chloe wants. She only threatens us or anyone with him every other day.”

Adrien shook his head and tried to explain. “It’s only because her parents aren’t there for her emotionally.”

“Again, not seeing how this is our problem? Or justification for anything she’s done to us? Or how this excuses her willingly helping a supervillain?”

“Because we’re her classmates!” He argued back, gesturing to all of them. “Out of everyone, we’ve all had the most interactions with her.”

“All of which were negative.” Came a cutting remark, followed by grumbling.

“There were good times, too!” Adrien insisted with a frown. His eyes spanned over the assembled classmates before they came to rest on one in particular. “Kim, you have to have seen Chloe’s good side. You liked her before.”

“Before.” Kim replied, emphasizing the word and the timeframe it referred to. “But being humiliated and her sending out that pic to everyone in school kind of crushed that crush.”

“How did she even have our numbers?” Ivan asked.

“But there had to be something that made you like her in the first place.” Adrien encouraged.

The taller boy shrugged, uncertain and uncaring. “Maybe so, but was it something that was really there? Or something I just wanted to see? Because I’m looking back and quite frankly, I don’t know what past me was thinking.”

“Wow, that’s deep, man.” Nathaniel whispered.

“Thanks!”

Seeing Nathaniel gave Adrien an idea. “Wait, Nathaniel! Didn’t Chloe let you put her in your comic?”

“Forced us to, more like.” The artist bit back. “And even when we tried to fit her, we got nothing but complaints from her. It was no wonder we never got past the initial concept art for her character.”

Adrien winced. “It was an attempt, at least?”

Nathaniel wasn’t buying it. “A poor one.”

“She’s been trying to be better.” Adrien was getting increasingly frustrated. This was not how he was expecting this argument to go. “Rose? What about you? You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

After all, Rose was sweet and caring, always willing to see the good in anyone. Surely she would have something nice about Chloe!

Juleka frowned at him over his focus on her girlfriend and moved to stand beside her. “Don’t push her.”

Still he tried.

“Rose?”

“I’m sorry, Adrien.” Rose said, hugging herself. “But Chloe has done nothing but hurt people. And going out of our way to protect her has only ended up biting us.”

That wasn’t true. Not...all the time at least. There had to have been at least one instance where she did the right thing!

Adrien brightened in realization. “Didn’t she catch you when you fell after being deakumatized during Heroes Day?”

The blonde girl frowned. “Well, yes…but she wasn’t very nice about it. Even though I did the same for her before.”

“Rose, come on…”

She shook her head. “I put myself at risk to help Chloe when she was being chased by zombies, and only got turned into one for my efforts. Chloe never appreciated it. She never thanked me. She didn’t even do anything to help when we were trying to keep her safe!”

“We all ended up kissing zombies because of her.” Alix accused, crossing her arms and looking particularly annoyed. “And not just because she caused the akuma in the first place.”

“Why are you pushing this?” Mylene asked. “We’ve been asked. We said no. Isn’t that enough?”

“But—”

“Adrien, you’ve got a good heart.” Ivan started.

“Easy for him when he’s not the one who has to be on the receiving end of Chloe’s tantrums.” Alix cut in, clearly sounding bitter.

“You’ve got a good heart.” Ivan repeated, sending Alix a look that asked her to back off. “But Chloe…doesn’t.”

Adrien shook his head, remaining insistent. “That’s why she needs help.”

“If she needs help,” Mylene spoke, “It should come from her parents. Her teachers. Any of the adults in her life. She has plenty of adults who are fully capable of helping her. It should not be expected to come from the kids she’s spent years tormenting.”

She gestured to herself and the others around her. “And that’s what she’s been doing: tormenting us.”

“To great joy, might I add.” Max droned.

“She hasn’t been cruel to everyone.” Adrien muttered.

That brought out a backlash of outrage.

“She outted my crush!”

“She insulted Mylene’s cooking and made her cry!”

“She got Aurore akumatized and nearly caused Paris to be incinerated in a volcano!”

“She tried to push Mylene out of the lead role of our movie!”

“She locked Juleka in the restroom!”

Wait...

But that hadn’t been Chloe. She had stayed with the class at the time. The one who did do it was...

He glanced around until he saw her—a redhead in the background behind the rest of the class. She looked anxious and uncomfortable, and almost seemed to be trying to edge around the class to get to the stairs.

Adrien did seem aware. Or rather, he was focused on the fact she was there.

“Sabrina? What about you? Chloe was your friend!”

Of course she would help! Because who better than her own best friend to speak on her behalf?

The rest of the class broke into mutters as they realized the same.

But Sabrina...bit her lip and looked away. Refusing to even meet Adrien’s gaze.

“Sabrina?” Marinette tried, concerned about this reaction. Sabrina had been Chloe’s best friend—or at least the closest thing she could have to a friend. “Minion” or “Servant” would be more accurate. “Slave” would be more honest.

The girl had been Chloe’s only real fan and follower, and had assisted Chloe in some of her worst plots.

Marinette had briefly seen another side to her. A girl who was so desperate for friendship that she latched onto even the slightest bit of kindness and went to the greatest of extremes to appease the “friend” so they wouldn’t leave her. It was no wonder she had fallen in with Chloe—someone like that was perfect for the spoiled girl. Compared to her, Marinette’s anxieties and need to please were nothing.

And Chloe had pretty much been her world for years.

What must she be feeling now?

“Should we really be getting her opinion?” Ivan whispered. “You know how she and Chloe were��”

“Well, if anyone would have anything positive to tell the courts about Chloe, it would be her.” Mylene whispered back.

Sabrina took a breath and spoke quickly—almost shouting in her rush.

“I’m sorry but my therapist said I shouldn’t!”

That got a surprise. The rest of the classmates glanced to each other before looking back to the girl. Adrien in particular looked shell-shocked. Marinette couldn’t blame him. She felt the same.

Sabrina for her part seemed to tense up, as if ready to defend herself from the rest of the class.

Marinette stepped forward. “Sabrina? Are…you okay?”

The other girl shook her head, looking close to tears.

“After word got out what Chloe did, the police had to question me about Chloe. They were able to see that I wasn’t involved, but they…didn’t like what I told them about our relationship. Afterwards, my dad decided to have me see a counselor and she…has been telling me things that I hadn’t really considered.” She curled in on herself. “They all think I should stay away from Chloe and anything directly related to her…for my own health.”

Adrien frowned at that. “But don’t you want to help Chloe?”

Sabrina jumped. “Of course, I do!”

“Hold up, Adrien!” Nino stepped in. “She just said police took her in because of Chloe!”

“But they let her go…”

“It still happened!” Mylene argued. “It doesn’t matter how nice they are, how innocent you know you are, or if you’re released in the end, it’s still terrifying when it happens!”

"And it only happened to her because of Chloe." Alya added.

Rose, in her infinite sweetness, reached out to take Sabrina’s hand in support. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Sabrina sobbed and covered her face. Aside from Rose, no one else really attempted to comfort her. Most of them simply watched her, pitying her current state. But they also remembered how complicit she had been in Chloe’s schemes, so they were conflicted. While they did feel bad for her current situation, there was a part of most of them that noted how she had brought it upon herself by being Chloe‘s lackey for so long, so their sympathy was limited.

Perhaps it was out of awkwardness, or maybe an attempt to give some respect for Sabrina’s privacy that the classmates turned away from her and instead focused on the heart of the argument.

“Man...” Nino tried. “Maybe you should let it go?” Though it was clear from his tone that he knew it wasn’t likely.

Because Adrien had still not given up, it seemed.

He looked around between of the classmates, growing more desperate. But those that remained either looked at him straight on as if daring him to call on them or looked away. A few of them even closed ranks as if to block his view of certain others. It was clear none of them were willing to help him on this.

None of them except…

“Marinette.” He called out, drawing her gaze to him instantly. “You understand, don’t you?”

She bit her lip. “I…”

“Back off, Adrien.” Kim said, giving the other boy an angry frown as he stood in front of her to shield her from his gaze. “It’s not on Marinette to help Chloe.”

“Yeah! She suffered more than any of us!“ Ivan shouted.

“She has been Chloe’s main target for years.” Nathaniel agreed. “She is the last person who is obligated to help Chloe now.“

Adrien winced at the harshness of their words and in their tone. “I just thought that Marinette could help. Like before.”

“Just because she could doesn’t mean she should have had to.” Alya countered. “She’s a teenager. Dealing with Chloe should have been the job of adults. Her parents. Bustier. Damocles. Any one of them should have done something—and if they can’t, the courts will. It’s their job. Not ours.”

“And getting her to help you wouldn’t make a difference anyway even if you had convinced us.” Max said, shifting his glasses. “Chloe helped Hawk Moth. There is nothing we could say that could undo that. And even if we did try, we would either be guilty of committing perjury or aiding in a conspiracy.”

“What?” Adrien jerked in surprise.

“The best we can do is be character witnesses.” Mylene explained. “But this is a court and we can’t claim something that isn’t true! We can’t say anything nice about Chloe when she hasn’t done anything nice!”

Max nodded and shifted his glasses. “Furthermore, our testimonies—even if they were positive—would only serve to create a narrative about Chloe and the type of person she is. They can’t explain away the current evidence against her.”

He rubbed the back of his head. He knew there were issues, but he also knew Chloe. He knew what she could be like. He knew she was a good person deep down. “I know she’s made some mistakes—”

“No.” Alya stated sharply. “Calling them ‘Mistakes’ implies that her actions were unintentional. ‘Mistakes’ implies that people were harmed by accident. ‘Mistakes’ implies that she would have any point learned from them. They weren’t mistakes, Adrien. They were willful acts of cruelty every single time.”

Ivan shook his head, pityingly. “We can’t save Chloe from this. We have nothing to say in her defense. The kindest thing we can do for her is stay silent.”

“She’s better than you think she is. She threw that party once for everyone, remember? You all went.” Adrien reminded them.

“That only proved that she could throw a party and be a good host, not that she could be a good person. There is a difference.” Nathaniel pointed out.

“Not that Chloe could tell.“ Alix sniped.

Adrien ignored the barb. He had given up on getting any of them to listen and now only had eyes for her. His last hope.

“Marinette….come on…please.”

She hesitated.

Everything in her that was Ladybug and her crush on Adrien and her desire to make people happy and take the high road and give second-third-fourth chances wanted nothing more than to give it to him.

Except...

There was a long pause. No one spoke.

The other classmates have had their say. They were letting Marinette have hers. And she knew in that moment that if she spoke up…if she did as Adrien wished and tried to help Chloe…she knew they would go along with her. It may be more out of respect for Marinette than it would be out of any sort of forgiveness for anything Chloe had done, but it would still help Chloe and it would still make Adrien happy.

…and hadn’t Marinette already done that enough?

“Did you know?” Marinette started, not looking at anyone. “I would have been well within my rights to press charges against Chloe?”

Adrien balked at that.

“She’s stolen from me at least three times now.” She shrugged. “I mean, sure, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about my diary since she had Sabrina steal it for her, but she did steal my hat design for a competition and I had proof. I could have pressed charges against Chloe and let her face some consequences…but I didn’t.”

She looked up at Adrien. “I also could have pressed charges for what she did to my gift for Madame Bustier. Since she did break into my locker and vandalize my property while it was still technically mine…but I didn’t.

“Adrien.” She spoke almost in monotone, the only sign of her emotions being how she clenched her fists. “Did you know that after the fashion show, my parents and I took a train to get home?”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?

“It was the same train Chloe took control of and nearly caused to crash.”

Several gasps resounded around them. Apparently this had not been common knowledge.

“Even if Chloe could have bought her way out of any consequence for the other things, we all could certainly have had her face some major trouble for that one…” Marinette took a shuddering breath. “But we didn’t.”

Adrien frowned. “I…I see that—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She cut him off. “Because instead of any of that…rather than hold Chloe accountable at any point, I catered to her. I tried to understand Chloe. I tried to make things nicer for Chloe. I tried to excuse Chloe. Time and again. Just like everyone else. Just like you wanted me to. Just like you’re asking me to now. And what did that get us?”

The more she talked, the more words filled out and she was unable to stop the torrent.

“I defended her from Alya after Madame Bustier was akumatized, and Chloe stole a Miraculous and nearly got my family killed. I helped Chloe bond with her Mom—costing myself any chance at a once in a lifetime opportunity in the process—and Chloe tried to get me banished from Paris just for saying she wasn’t a superhero. I threw Chloe a party to show her some appreciation, and she willingly worked with a supervillain to take over Paris. Just to fuel her ego and because she felt she was owed something that wasn’t hers.”

She tilted her head, considering.

“What is that American saying? Three strikes and you’re out?” Her eyes narrowed. “I have given Chloe more than three chances. I have done nothing BUT give her chances. And clean up after her. And just…try to help her. At no point has she been grateful. At no point did she ever apologize. Or show the slightest bit of remorse for anyone she hurt. Or just…try to do better.”

She stepped forward. Past her classmates. Past Alya, who looked ready to tear into Adrien herself.

“So tell me, Adrien. How much more am I supposed to do? What miracle am I supposed to achieve to help Chloe to be a better person that I haven’t already done?”

“You can just try.” Adrien begged. “Chloe’s alone. She has no one in her corner. You’ve given her chances before! Can’t you find it in your heart to give her another chance this time?”

“Why haven’t you?” Alya demanded.

Adrien drew back in surprise at that.

But the girl wasn’t letting him off. “If you’re so certain Chloe is the victim in all this, then why aren’t you stepping up to help her? Why are you pushing Marinette and the rest of us to do it?”

Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette in support. “If you truly believe Chloe has some sort of inner goodness that only needs the right person to bring it out, then it’s pretty clear Marinette is just not that person. She’s tried enough.”

Alix nodded. “I’m pretty sure she could’ve demolished a brick wall with how many time she’s banged her head against it by this point trying to drag a decent person out of Chloe.”

Others in the class also nodded and gave sounds of agreement to that.

Adrien frowned, lowering his head despondently. “I’m just one person. There’s only so much weight my word will have. I just...I just want to give her the best chance.”

“That’s nice for Chloe, I guess.” Kim muttered. “But not much for us.”

Adrien looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Alya stepped forward, releasing Marinette in the process. “Adrien, why should we as Chloe’s victims have to help protect her? That’s the thing we’re not getting here. WE are the ones she hurt. WE are the ones she betrayed to Hawk Moth. So why are WE supposed to try and save her from her own consequences? Why are you wanting us to?”

Adrien hesitated.

“Can you even imagine what it was like? Being frozen in time. Unable to move or speak? Only able to hear her voice in your head? Feeling your body respond as she’s calling you and being unable to stop?” She clutched her arms, as if trying to hug herself. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was knowing what she was doing to us but being completely unable to stop it? How humiliating it was when she had us bowing to her and calling her our Queen? And then…” She took a breath. “She made us fight our heroes. Ladybug and Chat Noir trusted us to help them and we used the Miraculous they entrusted to us to try and kill them.”

“We were just lucky that they were able to turn the tables on us.” Kim muttered. “I don’t even want to know what would have happened if we had won.”

“Luka still has nightmares.” Juleka whispered. “He won’t talk about it, but he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.”

Marinette winced. She hadn’t even considered that everyone else could be suffering ramifications of Miracle Queen as well.

“We could have killed them.” Max stated. “Given the nature of the Snake Miraculous’s power, we very well could have more than once for all we know.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have killed them?” Rose suggested, trying to be positive. “I mean, Chloe wanted all of the Miraculous, right? She probably wanted them as her servants as well.”

Max glared. “I’m pretty sure I attempted to send Chat Noir into space. Even a Miraculous can’t protect someone from that.”

Adrien tried not to wince at the memory. How he managed to even move enough to activate the Miraculous, he still wasn’t sure.

“We fought against them. We never wanted to, but we did.” Alya bit out. “Not even because of Hawk Moth this time, but because of Chloe. And now you are wanting us to just…overlook the trauma of the whole thing to help Chloe after what she did. For something she hasn’t shown even the slightest remorse for.”

She shook her head.

“I know you’re nice, Adrien. But this level of kindness is a cruelty.”

He winced. And it looked like he wanted to argue. But he just…wilted.

“I just…it feels harsh. What’s happening to her. The amount of hate she’s getting. That her entire life could be over.”

That was true. While they felt her current status was well deserved, it was a harsh sentence for anyone. Especially a teenager.

Nathaniel sighed. “Adrien, it is harsh. Maybe cruel. But fact is that she still brought on herself.”

“Isn’t that just victim-blaming though?” Adrien countered, frustrated now. “I mean, Hawk Moth manipulated her! How was that her fault? He’s the one who did it. She was…” He clenched his fists in anger. “Chloe is a victim.”

“No, we are the victims.” Alya insisted, gesturing to herself and the other revealed former heroes. “We were the ones used to fight our heroes. We were the ones who had our identities revealed to the world against our will. And now we are the ones having to live with the results of Chloe‘s choices, just like we always are.“

Adrien looked ready to argue. And maybe he would have, except...

Nino rested a hand on Adrien’s shoulder.

“Adrien. Dude. Just stop. We have enough to deal with and this…this isn’t helping.”

Adrien frowned at that, concerned by his friend’s attitude. “Nino?”

Nino lowered his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Really, I was trying not to think about it. But my parents are currently talking with police about their options. Now that I’ve been exposed as one of the temporary heroes, they’re questioning if it’s not safe for us at home anymore. There is a chance of us having to go into protective custody.”

Alya winced at that, drawing attention to her. “My parents have been talking as well. My mom quit her job. She said she doesn’t want to work for someone who would let their daughter do such a thing and put me in danger. She’s looking at drawing me out of school since it was pretty much Chloe‘s base of operations. And since Chloe is the Mayor’s daughter…and Hawk Moth…and just…everything?” She looked away, clearly anxious.

“There’s a chance we may have to move out of Paris altogether.”

Marinette gasped.

Alya looked to the other girl, sad and guilty all in one. “I’m sorry, girl. I guess I’ve been hoping it wouldn’t be an issue. I’ve been trying to talk them out of it, but it’s hard given everything that happened. Currently, the only reason they’re willing to stay is to see through to the end of the trial. But after that…” She shrugged, shaking her head uncertainly. “Who can say?”

“No…” Adrien whispered in shock.

The others in class came closer around her, trying to offer some comfort and reassurances—what little they could give, at least. This was a situation that was clearly beyond them. Marinette herself hugged Alya tightly for all she was worth, and the other girl held her back just as much, neither wanting to be parted.

Adrien, however, remained on the outside looking in. Watching the people Chloe had tormented even before Miracle Queen and realizing just how badly they’ve been hurt by this. It hit him then—for what was perhaps the first time just how much pain Chloe had caused his friends. And how unfair he had been to expect them to simply deal with it.

He stayed the lone person outside of the circle. By this point, did he really deserve to join in the comfort? To try to be the one to give comfort? After what he had tried to push on them all?

After minutes passed, they were finally able to draw away from each other.

“I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.” Alya told Marinette. “I guess I was just hoping…y’know…that it wasn’t real. Or that it would go away and things would work out on their own.”

Marinette smiled. “No, I understand.”

And she did. That’s exactly what she herself had been doing for the past few weeks as well. Trying to deal with things without really dealing with them. Working without acknowledging just what it all meant because she was scared she would break down and that would be just one more thing Hawk Moth would have won because of this whole mess.

“I was kind of the same way.” She admitted, and it felt like a slight relief to be able to say aloud to someone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you about it.”

She still couldn’t, unfortunately. Not about Ladybug and the kwamis and the Miracle Box.

But…she could talk about Fu. How she lost him. How she feels. She could help support Alya and her classmates and be there for them in the meantime.

She…hadn’t lost everything.

Not yet.

And that was the scary thing…

Adrien gaped at the group. He had thought the trauma was bad enough, and that at least could be worked through. But this...

“I’m sorry. I...I didn’t even realize...”

“Adrien, what Chloe did put a major target on our backs.” Alya explained. “Nobody knows how we became heroes, or that Ladybug was the one to specifically choose us and give us the miraculous to use. Nobody knows WHY we were chosen. It’s not just Hawk Moth, any regular criminal can come after us now in an attempt to get a hold of that power. And we can’t exactly protect ourselves.”

She shrugged helplessly.

“We kind of have enough to worry about with the fallout of Chloe‘s actions. And now you want us to try and protect Chloe on top of that?“

Seeing it now, in this light...it was cruel. It was cruel and unfair and hurtful, and Marinette felt horrible for considering letting herself be talked into it.

Adrien himself felt horrible for even suggesting it.

“We all have to live with the consequences of Chloe’s choices.” Alya stated. “So why shouldn’t she?”

Silence followed. It practically echoed throughout the entire hallway.

He said nothing in response. What could he possibly say? He’d known that Chloe was…difficult with other people, to say the least. He’d known the type of person she was. But she was his friend and friends forgive and support each other, right?

But they were right as well. It wasn’t fair to expect them to help Chloe after what she did. Especially once he knew of the level of harm she’d caused them. He felt the horror trickle in. The trauma everyone felt. The knowledge of what they’d been forced to do. The fact that…

He suddenly found it harder to breathe.

Nino could leave.

Adrien could lose his best friend because of this.

And who knew how many of the others would be forced to leave as well. Aside from Nino; Kim, Max, Alya, and Luka were other heroes as well. Juleka was Luka’s sister. And how many of the other classmates might be pulled out of this class and school because it’s unsafe? And Kagami—oh god, she was outted as well. He hadn’t heard from her in a while. Her mother is probably furious. She could move back to Japan because of this. And Marinette…she had been lucky to not be caught up in that fight since she was a hero only the one time, but that could have been just one more thing Chloe ruined for her…

…what about himself?

He paled.

He was longtime friends with Chloe. Went to school with Chloe. Was in class with Chloe. Chloe, who was currently getting a lot of heat from all of Paris. How was his Father going to react to that? The man was always focused on the company and appearances…what would he do now that Chloe had fallen from grace in such a way? Would he forbid Adrien from talking to Chloe again? Would he pull Adrien from school?

…would he ban Adrien from leaving the house altogether?

How was he only just now considering the impact? For himself or anyone else? Of course people would be hurt. Of course they would be upset. Of course people would respond. Somehow, he knew that, and yet he had only been focused on Chloe that it hadn’t actually hit home until now…

And in that light…

It had been selfish to ask. Honestly, he’d known that when he first tried to approach Marinette. But he felt he had to try. Honestly, part of him had known better than to ask in the first place. But at the same time…there was a part of him that still believed things could just go back to “normal”.

…how foolish. That was a “normal” that nobody else wanted. And even more, it was one that was now impossible…all because of Chloe herself.

“I just wanted to help.”

He deflated, losing all remaining fight.

“I’m sorry.”

The classmates glanced between each other. There was much they could have said, but really, anything they could have said already had been. And with him seeming resigned, it appeared there was no longer a need to defend themselves.

Marinette—ever the mediator, stepped up and hugged Adrien.

“Adrien, this isn’t something you can help with. None of us can. What happens in the trial is up to the courts. And what happens to Chloe is up to her.”

Slowly, he reached up and hugged her as well. The warmth and comfort brought some limited solace in this situation. He felt lost. Out of control. Like the world was moving around him and he didn’t know where he was standing much less where he was supposed to be.

They weren’t ready to forgive Chloe. And he couldn’t force them to be. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t blame them. And it was really unfair of him to try. Especially…

“I’m sorry, Marinette.” He whispered to her.

He had tried to use her. Looking back, he had a bit of a tendency to rely on Marinette to fix things when she shouldn’t have had to. Especially when it was for Chloe’s sake. He knew plenty of times Chloe had done things…but he always seemed to overlook how hurt Marinette was because of it, simply due to how well she always appeared afterwards. She was strong and confident, but also a good listener and willing to forgive. It was like nothing really brought her down.

It was due to this that Marinette was often the one he turned to whenever things happened. Because she would listen. She would understand. And she would always try to help, regardless of her position.

In this light…he may have over relied on her too much.

“I wasn’t fair to you.” He admitted. “I just saw Chloe hurting and only thought about how to fix things for her. I didn’t consider your feelings.” He hugged her more strongly. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t speak. But she squeezed him back.

He felt another body press against him. A quick glance showed it to be Nino.

“I’m still super mad with her. And I don’t like how you tried to push us to defend her after what she did. But I get that she’s your friend and you care about her. I’d do the same if it were you in her place.” He gave a small laugh. “Not that I think you ever would, of course.”

Adrien smiled back. “Thanks.”

This…this felt much better.

Things weren’t okay right now. He still wanted to help Chloe. His classmates were still hurt. People were still angry. Hawk Moth was still out there.

But whatever happened...in this moment, he felt they could make it.

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | final chapter: is something burning?

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, SMUT WARNINGS APPLY in this chapter sorry i’m yelling stressed!joon, sweaty!joon, sober!joon all make an appearance

rating: 18+

word count: 7.9K

notes: okay, so i stressed a bit about this chapter.  i got really in my head over it, but i hope it ends in a way that’s satisfying to all of you guys.  i’ve heard from some of the most amazing readers about this story -- i appreciate you all so much and i’d love to hear from you about how you feel about the ending.

special love to the best beta hands down periodt amen @hobi-gif​​, the lady who inspired it all with her adorable brand of namjoon thirst @sahmfanficbts​​, and three people who mean the world to me point blank period @ladyartemesia​​ @ppersonna​​ @taetaewonderland​​

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

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

There’s this thing that happens when you’re getting over a cold.

Slowly -- as your breathing returns to normal -- you can taste again.  Your head clears and your senses come back to life and you savor everything you eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had.  Your appetite returns.  

And all at once, you are starving.

That’s what it’s like after Namjoon touches you.

All he had to do was cup your face in one large, warm hand and it feels like your entire body has been jump-started.  Like parts of you that have been dormant for years are now awake, nerve endings exposed and aching.  Like all the tiny pieces of you that have been scattered and lost for so long are now found and fitting back together.

For the first time in a long time you remember what it feels like to want.

It’s not like you didn’t know you cared for Namjoon.  You knew it deep down in the way you took pride in providing for his needs.  You knew it in the way it made you feel to see appreciation reflected back in his dark eyes.

But you didn’t understand how much you wanted him until that night in his office.  

In those few charged moments, Namjoon made you feel more desired with his gaze than other men have with their hands.  You let down your guard and allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. You let yourself embrace the fantasy of being his in every way.

And then it was over.

Whatever spell he was under was broken and whatever existed in the air between you evaporated.  The hunger in his eyes turned into remorse and you’d left his office on trembling legs, reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Today, you stare out at the window across from your desk, unable to suppress the hurt that grips your chest.  You can barely concentrate on the numbers on the sheet in front of you, mind replaying the events in that office.  

Namjoon should never have touched you.  

He should never have roused the parts of you that had been long forgotten between doctors visits and pharmacy runs.  He should never have made you feel things no other man ever has or probably ever will.

And he should have never let you believe, even for one second, that he could care for you the way you do for him.

He should have just left you alone.

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

No one ever tells you that when you devote your life to caring for someone else’s needs, yours end up falling by the wayside.  That who you are ends up diminished somehow, buried underneath the weight of responsibility and worry.

Jinjoo finds you sitting in the chair next to your mother’s bed, staring at one lock of hair threaded through your fingers.  You’re frowning at the split ends you’ve not had a chance to tend to, the ones you hide by keeping your hair pulled back.

She sweeps into the room, carrying a bowl of kimchi.

“It’s Saturday. The sun is shining and you should go out.  Maybe to the salon, hmm?”

You glance up just as she’s placing the food on a tray at the foot of your mother’s bed.  She smiles to soften the blow of her observation and you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at her well-meaning meddling.  It’s nice to be fussed over for a change.

“I can’t even remember the last time I went to the salon,” you admit, eyes locking on an unsightly chip in your nail polish.  “I usually end up cutting it myself.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Jinjoo scolds, hands on hips.  “Today I want you to go out and do something just for you.  Go and get the works.  You’re far too young to be stuck in this house all the time.”

You consider her offer for a moment.  Here in the quiet of your mother’s room it’s far too easy to let your mind wander back to the encounter with Namjoon.  Far too easy to dwell on the ache that surfaces every time you remember.

“Go on, Ttal.”

You turn in the direction of your mother’s voice and find her stirring from her nap.  She places one soft hand over yours and squeezes.  “She’s right.  Go take some time away.  I’ll be fine here with Jinjoo.”

“See?” Jinjoo waves a hand to shoo you out of the chair. You stand and she immediately takes your place in the seat.  “Your mother agrees.  Now go.  And buy something pretty to wear while you’re at it.”

You look from her to your mother and see both women wearing matching expressions of encouragement.  

You decide they’re right.

So you spend the rest of your day pampering yourself and shopping and definitely not thinking about Kim Namjoon.  

You don’t think about him when you read the book he recommended to you once at the salon, you don’t think about him when you stop for a bite at his favorite Tteokbokki stand and you definitely don’t think about him when you buy a new sweater that makes you feel beautiful.

You definitely don’t think about him at all.

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

NAMJOON

Kim Namjoon’s father was a pig.

A glutton of the worst kind, he hoarded money and guns and drugs and because no one ever tried to stop him.  He used and abused everything and everyone just because he could.

Namjoon hated to watch the sadistic games his father played with people.  He hated that the man seemed to direct the worst of his cruelty at the women in his life.  

Namjoon’s own sister left everything behind to escape his violence and abuse and somehow his father was even more vicious with the women he bedded and discarded at random.  He dangled things like money and security and love in front of them like bait, only to yank it all away on a whim.

That’s why Namjoon has worked so hard his entire life to prove to others -- to prove to himself -- that he’s better than the piece of shit who raised him.  

That’s why the look on your face in his office that night cut so deep.

That look pierced straight through the lust and the scotch clouding his judgement and forced him to step back and see the situation for what it was. It made him feel sick to think he might have made you feel like his help came with conditions.  That he’d done what he had expecting you to give yourself to him in return.  

He couldn’t allow you to think he’d use his money to try and buy you.  That’s something his father would have done.

And Kim Namjoon is not his fucking father.

So this morning he finds himself walking towards your desk, determined to make it right.  You don’t register his approach as you work quietly and Namjoon has a quick moment to take you in.

There’s something different about you.

Namjoon can’t put his finger on it, but when he gets close enough for you to notice his presence and you glance up at him from under those long lashes, you look changed somehow.

Rested. Radiant.

The second you register that it’s him though, the look on your face changes.  You stand up from your chair, expression shuttered, tone formal.

“Mister Kim,” you murmur.  “How can I help you this morning?”

“Please sit,” Namjoon starts quietly.  “I, uh --” He digs his nails into his palm, annoyed with the hesitation in his delivery.  Spit it out, you moron.

“-- I owe you an apology.”

Your lips part in surprise before you close your mouth, sinking slowly back into your chair.  

Namjoon rubs one hand across the back of his neck, stealing a sideways glance at Seokjin’s office door.  It remains closed and he’s glad for it.  The last thing he’d want is an audience for this embarrassing exchange.

“The other night I was --” he clears his throat awkwardly.  Loaded. Horny. Stupid.  

He eventually lands on a less damning adjective.  “-- not entirely appropriate with you.”

You blink back but keep quiet so Namjoon keeps talking.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way,” he acknowledges weakly.  “That’s not normally how I treat my employees.  And I’m sorry.”

Spots of color appear in your cheeks.

“Well as your employee, I admit it wasn’t appropriate for me to just turn up in your office without notice, either,” you reply quietly.  “I think I was just shocked by your generosity. It’s a lot of money, and I --”

“-- Don’t think anything of it,” Namjoon interjects quickly.  “You’ve saved me that amount and more with your audits.  It only made sense to repay you for your efforts.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Namjoon knows it immediately.  It’s not the truth -- not by a mile -- and judging by the look that passes over your face, it’s definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“Mister Kim.”

“Yes?” Namjoon replies, only to realize that you are now looking past him and that he’s not the only one answering.

He turns slowly to find Seokjin standing behind him, wearing an expression halfway between curiosity and scrutiny.  Namjoon’s nails dig back into his palms, leaving tiny indents in the skin.

“Good morning,” you continue, turning your attention fully to Seokjin.  Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon before answering.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says slowly.

“If you’re ready to go over the new audits, I have more information to cover with you,” you say, pointing at the papers riddled with notes on your desk.  Namjoon stands there like an idiot, watching the two of you interact like he’s not even there.

“Sure,” Seokjin agrees, eyes darting back to Namjoon.  “Let’s go ahead and get into the numbers.”

“Great,” you say with a smile, standing to organize your papers into a folder.  

You look back at Namjoon like he’s an afterthought and the realization stings.  “If that was all you needed, I’ve got some work to handle now.”

The nails in his palm are this close to drawing blood.  

He cuts his eyes at Seokjin who immediately looks away.

“Certainly,” he says under his breath.  “Let me not keep you.”

You turn your back on him to head into Seokjin’s office.

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

Namjoon stares out at the setting sun from his office window.

He’s spent the last few days hiding out in here, avoiding everything and everyone.  Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin -- his phone keeps lighting up with calls he won’t answer.  His already black mood darkens every time his mind replays the seemingly endless string of disastrous exchanges with you.

He still can’t figure out how he’s managed to fuck things up so royally.

He still can’t figure out why he didn’t just tell you the truth about the money and about Jinjoo. He should have just admitted outright that for once he wanted to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.  He should have just admitted that you mean something to him.

That’s the real reason why things are so screwed up right now.

It would be so simple if this was just about sex.  It would be so simple if Namjoon could just get you into bed and get you out of his system.  But you’re not Mina or Yejin or any of the others.  

You’re not like any woman he’s ever known.

Namjoon leans back into his chair just as his cell phone lights again and he grabs it just long enough to reject the call before tossing it back onto his desk.  He rubs his fingers across his mouth and watches the sun fall behind the nearby skyscrapers.

You deserve so much more than he is capable of giving you.

You deserve happiness and security and certainty.  What you don’t deserve is to be toyed with by a man who doesn’t know what his future looks like.  A man who’s still so damaged by his own upbringing that he worries he’ll never be capable of being a decent husband and father.

Truthfully, Namjoon doesn’t know which scenario scares him more.  

The one where he tries -- and fails -- to give you the things you need, or the one where he drifts through the rest of his life anchored to no one and nothing.

The sound of an incoming text interrupts his maudlin thoughts.

Namjoon reaches for his phone and sighs as he reads the waiting message.

reservations at doore yoo, 8 PM [ 6:32 PM ]

join me [ 6:32 PM ]

it’s been too long [ 6:33 PM ]

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

“Mister Kim.”

The Maitre’d at Doore Yoo bows in Namjoon’s direction, flashing a wide smile. “A pleasure to have you back.”

“Thank you Sungho,” Namjoon murmurs, scanning the crowded dining room.  “Is she waiting for me?”

“She is,” Sungho confirms.

Namjoon follows him past the tables packed with patrons to the exclusive dining area hidden away in the back.  This is his regular table, inside his regular private room -- but when Sungho slides the door open, Namjoon stops short and nearly tells the man he’s made a mistake.

The young woman waiting for him inside is unrecognizable.

From the back, Namjoon can see that her dark hair has been swept into a careful updo, shoulders and skin bared in a delicate spaghetti-strap top.  But that can’t be right.

Because she would never --

“Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon’s sister lifts her chin and smiles as he steps around the table.  

He catches himself staring, momentarily thrown by the sight in front of him.  It’s the first time in his life he can recall seeing his sister wearing something that doesn’t cover the jagged scar that crosses her collarbone.  The scar that she’s spent a lifetime hiding, ashamed of the way it made her look and feel.  At once, the realization hits him -- the hundreds of different ways she’s changed, big and small since falling in love with Hoseok.  

Every last one of them for the better.

“Amsaja, you look -- ” Namjoon pauses to brush a kiss across her cheek, “ -- wonderful.”

She flushes.

“Thank you. Now sit,” she orders kindly, reaching for her wine glass.  “For a minute there I thought you might not show.”

Namjoon exhales, sinking into his seat.  

“For a minute there, I almost didn’t,” he admits.  “It’s been a shitty week.”

His sister says nothing, smiling like a sphinx as a server appears to offer Namjoon his own drink.  

“Club soda on ice,” Namjoon orders quietly.  “Thanks.”

Her poker face slips then, one eyebrow lifting in surprise at seeing him forgo his usual scotch.  She sips her wine thoughtfully before speaking.

“Talk to me, Namjoon.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he deflects irritably, staring past her to the art on the walls.  

“Hoseok says you’ve barely left your office.  Won’t take his calls.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, hackles raising immediately.

“Tell Hoseok he should work on his pillow talk,” he says sharply, and the second the words leave his mouth he regrets them.  Namjoon sees the change in his sister’s demeanor, watches her eyes sharpen from across the table.  

“Forgive me,” he apologizes quickly.  “That was uncalled for.  I’m fucking things up left and right these days, it seems.”

His sister stares back at him.  Namjoon knows that face, knows she’s now opted to abandon her charm offensive for a more direct approach.  He knows it’s exactly what he deserves for being an asshole.

“That’s my understanding, yes,” she says tightly.  “As smart as you are, you seem to be doing some very stupid shit lately.”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, cheeks warming at her rebuke.

“You’re right,” he admits.  “But I’m going to need you to be more specific about which stupid shit you want to talk about tonight.”

“Don’t be dense,” his sister scolds.  “Clearly, you’re tied up in knots over your assistant.  Oh, I’m sorry -- I mean former assistant.”

Namjoon’s defeated sigh hangs in the air for a moment.

“Is that what Hoseok says?”

“That’s what everyone says,” his sister fires back.  “You think you’re such a mystery but I assure you, you’re actually quite transparent.  Sending her away to work for Seokjin? Hiring a private nurse?  Good grief, Namjoon.  Real subtle.”

Shit, he wishes he had a scotch right now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain to me why you’re playing this stupid game of push and pull with this woman.  If you care about her, do something about it instead of lashing out at everyone around you because you’re angry with yourself.”

“She’s not --” Namjoon falters as he searches for a proper explanation, “-- she has a complicated life right now.  I’m just trying to help her the only way I know how.”

His sister leans back in her chair, wine glass tipped in his direction.

“You know what I think?  I think you like her too much and I think that’s freaking you out.  And I think you’re going to miss out on a good thing because you won’t get your head out of your ass.”

Namjoon stares back at his sister.

“I think you might be right,” he concedes, after a heavy silence.  

“Namjoon, I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” his sister says quietly.  “Whatever you’re feeling, she’s feeling it too.”

He knows that’s true. It’s been damned near impossible not to feel the charged air between you, impossible not to share passing looks and fleeting touches while working in such close quarters.  When he looks at you he knows instinctively that you feel the same pull.  It’s only made his precarious position that much harder.

“I just --” he shakes his head as he tries to justify his inaction, “-- I have no idea what I’m offering her.  I don’t know what I’m capable of giving her.  Beyond money, of course.”

His sister laughs.  

Namjoon waits for her to collect herself, ears warm with embarrassment.  He resists the childish impulse to kick her under the table.

“Is that funny to you?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she teases.  “You have no idea what you have to offer her?  You’re one of the most powerful men in this city, Namjoon.  There’s nothing you couldn’t offer her.”

The server arrives with dumplings and sets them in the middle of the table, and his sister reaches for one.

“If she’s this important to you, I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her,” she continues.  “Stop overthinking this. You’re a good man.  Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“I haven’t acted like a good man lately,” he confesses, shaking his head.  “She came to my office a few nights ago and I acted like a drunk, groping asshole.  Like father, like son.”

His sister sets her wine glass down, hard.

“You’re nothing like our father, Namjoon,” she says, eyes flashing with anger.  “Quit telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness out of some misguided, misplaced guilt.  And whatever happened in that office can be fixed.  If you want to fix it.”

Namjoon watches the bubbles in his club soda surface and break.  He does want to fix it.  He wants to figure out a way to stop fucking everything up where you’re concerned.

“I do,” he admits.

“Have you apologized?”

“Awkwardly. Not sure that it helped my case.”

“Then I think you need to offer her the one thing that’s more valuable than your money, Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow at his sister.

“What’s that?”

She plucks a dumpling off the plate with her chopsticks and points it at him.

“Give her your time.”

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

YOU

It’s freezing tonight.

You wrap your arms around yourself and brace against the biting wind as you approach your family home.  You’re dead on your feet, worn after a long day at the office -- and for the thousandth time since her arrival you silently give thanks for Jinjoo.  

Knowing your mother is taken care of while you’re gone and coming back to a clean home and warm meals has eased your burdens immeasurably.  

Of course, it’s all really thanks to Kim Namjoon -- but that’s something you’re not allowing your mind to dwell on right now.  You’ve worked hard over the past few days to push any thought of that man back to the furthest recesses of your mind.  

You’re peeling out of your scarf and coat in the foyer when a laugh echoes down the long hallway.  It’s the sound of your mother’s laugh -- clear in a way you haven’t heard in a very long time -- and it’s definitely not coming from her room.

“Eomma?” you call out as you walk towards the sound.  A peal of Jinjoo’s laughter rings out next and you smile, following it.

You round the corner to the living room and your mouth drops open when you spot your mother, fully dressed for the first time in ages, sitting on the formal couch.  Jinjoo is seated next to her, both women smiling and laughing at --

Oh God.

Namjoon stands from his seat on the opposite couch when your eyes meet his.  His cheeks are pinked from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and he looks so handsome that for a moment you forget how to think.  

“Welcome home,” he says, dimples emerging from his slow, careful smile.

You stare back at him, rooted to the spot.  Your face warms when you realize that every single eye in the room is trained on you, awaiting your next move.

“Do you -- ” Namjoon clears his throat, “ -- do you think I could have a minute of your time?”

“What are you doing here?” you say, blowing right past his question.

Jinjoo makes a disapproving sound under her breath.

“Ttal,” your mother interjects with a tone that borders very close to warning, “Mister Kim came by to talk to you.  He kept the two of us company until you came home.”

You turn to look at her and -- is she wearing lipstick?

“Yes,” Namjoon adds quickly, turning the warmth of his smile back to your mother and Jinjoo. “And they’ve been wonderful company. Thank you, ladies.”

The two of them titter like schoolgirls enjoying the attention of the most popular boy in school while you just stare.

And stare.

“Ttal?”

Your mother’s voice breaks through your mental fog.  You look back at her and Jinjoo and both women appear to be holding their breath, awaiting your response.  Jinjoo’s eyes are pleading when they meet yours, silently begging you to play nice.

You turn back to Namjoon slowly.

“One minute.”

“Great,” he breathes, shoving a hand through his hair.

“Not here.”

The words come out more sharply than you’d intended and your mother’s eyes go wide. Jinjoo sighs.

“What I mean to say,” you start again, delivery clumsy, “Is that we should probably step outside.”

“Of course,” Namjoon agrees.

You will your leaden legs and feet to cooperate as you turn to leave, grabbing your coat from the foyer closet on the way.  You slip it on and lead Namjoon out to the front porch, immediately wincing at the bitter cold that greets you.  

The door clicks shut and you burrow deep into your coat, turning to face him.  You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blossoms in your chest when his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Your mother seems to be doing well tonight,” Namjoon notes. “I’m glad to see it.”

It’s not fair.  It’s not fair that he can just show up here on a whim -- looking like that, talking like that.  

Charming everyone in his path.  

“Namjoon, I’m going to ask again.  What are you doing here?”

The smile on his face falls and he looks skyward, exhaling a puff of steam into the cold night air.

”I’m here to come clean,” he confesses quietly.  “Thought I might do this new thing where I try not to act like an idiot around you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, stomach fluttering wildly in response.

A lock of his hair falls over his eye when he looks back down and you smother the urge to brush it back, hands balling into fists in your pockets.

“Thought I might do this new thing where I just tell you the truth.”

You’ve tried so hard these past few days to be angry with him, to use your hurt feelings like a wall around your heart.  But you can’t anymore.  He looks down at you with those huge, dark eyes and your grudge falls apart.

“I care about you,” he admits.  “I’ve been stumbling over my own feet for weeks because I didn’t know how to approach you about it. And then that night in the office,” he trails off, looking pained.  “That is not how I intended to treat you.”

A gust of wind blows through and you curl into yourself, teeth chattering.  Namjoon pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders.  

“Please don’t,” you protest weakly.  “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t,” he promises, stepping closer.  

You wrap the wool tight around your body, enjoying the way his lingering heat and scent wrap around you at the same time.  Your heart is beating so wildly you can hear your pulse in your ears.

“Namjoon,” you whisper. “You must know I feel the same way.”

He reaches one hand up to stroke his fingers across your cheek.

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

He’s so close now that all it would take is the slightest tip of your chin, the most incremental change in angle to press your mouth to his. But he doesn’t close the small distance between you.  His gaze shifts to the street and you follow it, only now realizing a black sedan has been idling outside your house this entire time.  

Your cheeks flame hot at the thought of his driver witnessing this exchange.

“I want a chance to do this the right way,” he murmurs.  “Can I have it?”

You nod, waiting for your mouth to catch up to your brain.  “Of course.”

He smiles wide then, the kind of smile you haven’t seen on him in a long time and once again you’re struck by how handsome he is.  He narrows his eyes playfully when he realizes you are staring.

“Let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

You nod, pulling off his coat and watching as he shrugs back into it. He grabs for your hand, fingers brushing against yours just as you reach for the door.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you say softly.  

He squeezes your cold fingers with his.

“Good night.”

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

Namjoon sends his driver for you.

You shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the sleek car, avoiding Chun’s gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.  Up until now, you knew him only as the voice on the other end of the line when you’d arranged for Namjoon’s rides.

Now you’re matching a face with a voice -- and so is he.

You try not to dwell on how this must look after the scene outside your home just a few nights ago.  Especially now that he’s been tasked with taking you to Namjoon’s penthouse.

It’s embarrassing, certainly -- but even this pales in comparison to what you’d had to endure before leaving the house.  

When your mother had asked you to come see her and casually inquired about the last time you’d shaved your legs.  When Jinjoo had made a point of letting you know that she was planning on staying all night long just as you were walking out the door.

That was definitely the most embarrassing part.

That’s why you feel a knot in your stomach as the security guard in Namjoon’s building escorts you personally up to the very top floor -- the one accessible only by keycard.  That’s why you find yourself holding your breath right until the very moment Namjoon opens the door.

Then you let go of that breath.

“Thank you, Jaejin,” he greets, bowing in the man’s direction.  He turns his attention to you and the knot in your stomach explodes into butterflies.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with a careful smile.  

As if you had any choice in the matter.  You kick your brain into gear and remind yourself to stop staring and smile back as the door shuts behind you.  

He takes your coat and you take him in.

It’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him look, barefoot in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled to the elbows.  He looks fresh from a shower, skin glistening and golden.  The scent of him --- clean and male and intoxicating -- wafts over you.

Followed by a far less enticing one.

“Namjoon,” your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell,  “Is something burning?”

“Something was burning,” he admits sheepishly. “But it’s not anymore.  And you -- “ he pauses to let his gaze rake over you, “ -- you look incredible.”

Heat creeps up your neck and into your face, making you feel just a touch too warm in your brand new sweater.  

“Thank you,” you reply, accepting his compliment with a shy smile. “So do you.”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you clear your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the admiration in his eyes.

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe the words through a nervous laugh. “That sounds great, actually.”  You hope it’s not obvious that you’re jumping at the chance to take the edge off of your jitters.

Namjoon leaves you standing in his grand living room as he heads to the kitchen to pour the wine.  You’ve always known he was a wealthy man -- but knowing that in the abstract and seeing it firsthand are two different things entirely.  You take in the massive wall-to-wall windows and gleaming marble floors and custom-made art pieces with silent awe.

Namjoon interrupts your gawking when he returns with your wine.

“So about dinner,” he starts with a chuckle. “It’s on the way.  I attempted to cook something, but as you already know that didn’t quite work out.  Not surprising, seeing as I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise.  “Never?”

“Never,” he says with a smile.  “I’ve never brought anyone to this apartment, either.”

His smile vanishes then, a more serious look taking its place.  You swallow thickly as you let the implication of that statement wash over you.

“No one?”

“No one,” he confirms quietly.

Your lips part with surprise and Namjoon looks away, like he’s admitted too much -- and you stand there spinning your wheels, searching for something to say.

The sound of the door chime is a well-timed and welcome interruption.

Namjoon heads to the door to accept the food and you realize the same security guard who escorted you up here is making the delivery.  It makes sense, of course, that only a trusted few could get this close to Namjoon’s private space.

“Are you expecting more people?” you tease with a smile when the guard wheels in a cart weighted down with enough food to feed an army.  

Relief washes over you when Namjoon smiles back. The strange moment that passed between you before is forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything.”

Pleasant smells emanating from the carefully-packed containers fill the apartment, pushing away the burnt one still lingering from the food that’s been relegated to the trash.

“Just so you know,” you laugh, “I like all of it.”  

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

The centerpiece of Namjoon’s outrageously opulent great room is the fireplace.  

Your fingers wrap tight around the stem of your wine glass as you stare into the flames and contemplate how this night will end.

You know how you want it to end.  

You know the dozens of debauched fantasies you’ve entertained about Namjoon -- the myriad ways he’s had you in your mind.  But there’s no way for you to know what his intentions are, how he expects this night to end.

That’s why you’re strung tight as a bow as you hear him clearing plates and cleaning up in the kitchen.  The sounds eventually slow and then stop.  And you wait.

You don’t hear him approach.  

You come out of your thoughts and look away from the flames and he’s just there, standing in front of the couch wearing an expression you can’t read.  The wine starts to wobble inside your glass, set in motion by your unsteady hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, reaching for it. “Let me.”

He takes the glass and places it on the coffee table, sinking into the space next to you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs.  “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He leans in and reaches out to thread his hands into your hair.

“Namjoon,” you whisper weakly, pulse leaping in response.  

His eyes seem to darken at the sound of his name. His fingers slip out of your hair and under your jaw, tipping your chin up and compelling you to meet his gaze.  

“I told you I was going to do this the right way,” he murmurs, “And I meant it.  After that night in my office, I promised myself I was never going to put you in that position again.”

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips involuntarily, as if the action could take the place of the words you want so badly to say.  

But Namjoon makes no move, fingers firm under your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes gently. “If you want this -- if you want me, tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

The words come out in a rush, laced with such desperation they sound like a plea, not an order.  A smile tugs the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and he nods.

Carefully, deliberately, he sinks his mouth onto yours.

You sigh against the press of his lips as the pads of his fingers stroke the side of your face.  For a moment you can’t think; can’t process a thing beyond the spice on his tongue from the Buldak or how impossibly soft his lips feel against yours.  

He kisses you until you can’t breathe -- and just a moment beyond that -- until you are forced to pull away, chest heaving.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admits, panting.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids,” you confess, emboldened.

He leans close again, eyes half-lidded, lips grazing yours.

“Well, we’re not kids anymore.”

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

NAMJOON

Namjoon has to force himself not to totally fucking devour you.

You are finally in his hands and the urge to unleash months of wait and want on you is so strong he has to take a physical step back.

You look up at him from where you sit on his bed -- hair mussed from his fingers, lips swollen from his kisses -- and he hesitates, unsure of his next move.

“If you’re thinking you don’t want to -- “ you start.  

Namjoon cuts you off with a strangled laugh.

“Trust me, that’s not what I’m thinking,” he vows, shoving a hand through his hair.  “It’s like I’ve wanted you so bad for so long I don’t even know where to start.”

Your eyes soften as you gaze at him.

Namjoon holds his breath as he watches you slip out of your sweater and then out of your jeans.  You lie back against his sheets, eyes holding steady contact with his.

“Start anywhere,” you breathe quietly.  “Start everywhere.  Just start.  Please.”

Fuck, you are going to be his undoing.

It takes him an irritatingly long time to work the buttons of his shirt open on account of his thick, clumsy fingers.  He finally manages to get out of it and his jeans follow right behind.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” you murmur as he slides into the bed next to you.  His fingers rake over the soft skin of your stomach and you jerk under his fingertips, body reacting immediately to his touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Namjoon smiles when you use his own words against him.  

He dips his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply -- savoring the soft, sweet smell of your skin.  He mouths at your pulse point, feeling it race in response when his fingers trail lower to tease the delicate band of your panties.

“I figured out where I want to start,” he murmurs, sucking gently at the hollow of your collarbone.  

He feels your deep intake of breath when he slips one hand into the satin, grazing against your mound.  He shifts lower, allowing one finger to dip into your center, groaning at the wetness he finds waiting for him there.

“So responsive, Jagiya,” he praises softly.  “So beautiful.”

You make a needy sound, hips lifting off the bed as you chase the pressure of his fingers.  He turns to capture your lips again with his own, simultaneously working two fingers into the tight space between your thighs.

“Namjoon,” you sigh brokenly, “F-feels so good.”

“I can do better,” he promises.  “Turn over for me.”

He waits for you to comply, body shifting in the bed.  Once you are face down, he climbs over you, dipping his mouth to the shell of your ear, biting gently on the soft skin.  You shiver underneath him, moaning softly.

Slowly, he kisses a line down the back of your neck, hands stopping just long enough to undo the clasp to your bra.  He slips it off of you, reaching under you to tease at your nipples with his fingertips.  He chuckles low with satisfaction when you twitch under his fingertips.

He continues his descent, dropping kisses along the soft line of your back.  His hands reach your panties and he pulls them off, mouth sucking gently at the base of your spine.

“Namjoon,” you gasp, the sound of your plea is muffled as you press your face into the sheets. “Touch me.”

He sinks one long finger into you then, savoring the tight pull of your heat as his tongue flicks out to taste you.  Your hips jerk off the bed and he uses both strong hands to urge your legs further apart.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, mouth closing over your wet center.  

He pushes a second finger into you and you shudder at the fullness, back arching.  The movement angles your cunt even closer and Namjoon seizes the opportunity, tongue firm as he swipes it against you.

He can tell how badly you want this.  He can feel it in the way your thighs tremble while he’s working you with his fingers and tongue.  He can hear it in the way you whimper when he nips gently at you with his teeth.

“Namjoon,” the tilt to your voice makes it sound like you are on the verge of tears.  “Please -- I c-can’t -- ”  Your thought evaporates into thin air when he groans directly into your center, curling his fingers deep against the spot inside of you that draws a sharp gasp.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs his encouragement as you buck against his grip.  “Come for me, Jagiya.”

He looks up just long enough to see your fingers twisted into the sheets, face buried deep into the pillow as you fall apart in his hands.  You make the prettiest sounds as you succumb.  Somewhere in the midst of your frantic whispering he hears his name and the sound goes straight to his cock, making the ache there almost impossible to ignore.  

He ignores it anyway -- pushing the feeling aside to ride out the tremors with you, relishing the taste of your release on his tongue.  He praises you, savors you, keeps you anchored to his mouth until your hips drop flush to the bed with exhaustion.

Then he kisses his way back up the line of your spine, dropping down at your side.  You look so deliciously sated and flushed when you turn over that Namjoon can’t help the slow smile that comes over him.

You kiss it right off.

You fit your body against his -- slick skin against slick skin -- and kiss Namjoon so hard it takes him by surprise.  Your hands dive into his hair, mouth desperate against his.

Namjoon chuckles under his breath at your newfound boldness, fingers reaching to tease at one pebbled nipple.  Your body jolts in response and you answer with a move of your own, one hand sliding across the hard plane of his stomach and into his boxers.  

Up until this very moment, he’s been able to ignore the insistent throbbing between his own legs.  But the moment your fingers wrap around him -- the moment you start to pump your hand gently over him -- it becomes his only thought.

“Shit,” he groans, breaking the kiss to inhale deeply,  “God, that feels good.”

You pull away to maneuver your body over his.  

Namjoon watches through hooded eyes as you pull his boxers down his legs and then turn your attention to his straining cock.  He takes his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the noise he makes when your mouth descends onto him.

The moments that follow are a test of the last shreds of Namjoon’s self-control.  

The wet warmth of your mouth surrounds him, tongue teasing at the sensitive places that make his hips jerk and his mouth drop open in surrender.  Your grip around his cock stays firm, mouth soft in contrast -- both sensations almost too much to bear at once.

He slips a hand in your hair to push back the strands that have fallen into your face and you release him with a pop, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy and wide.  

He nearly comes right then and there.

“No more,” he croaks, voice hoarse with arousal.  “That’s all I can take.”

The smile you return is nothing short of victorious.  Namjoon rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, more than ready to retake his position of control.   Your eyes are sparkling with laughter and he grins back.

“You like seeing me at your mercy, huh?” he teases, dropping kisses into the crook of your neck.  

“I do,” you admit, shuddering when he slips one hand back down to the apex of your thighs.  “It’s nice to be the one in charge for a change.”

Namjoon kisses you slowly then, taking himself in hand to slide the head of his stiff cock against the wetness spilling from your entrance.  He pulls up on his arms and looks down at you just to appreciate the way you look right now, hair splayed across his pillow and skin luminous against his sheets.  

“You’ve always been in charge, Jagiya,” he breathes, enjoying the way your cheeks pink in response.  “Just like you’re in charge right now. So tell me what you want.”

The humor disappears from your eyes then, replaced by something heady and dark.  

Namjoon sucks in a breath when your hand wraps back around his cock, guiding him back to your entrance.  He throbs with need under your fingertips, muscles locked tight with anticipation.

“This -- ” you murmur, tilting your hips up to take him in, “ -- is what I want.”  

Namjoon sinks down carefully then, slowly -- choking back a moan at the unbearably tight grip of your walls.  You gasp, nails digging into his back as he strokes to the hilt.  

“This is what you want?” he goads, feeling powerful now, drunk on the sight of you writhing beneath him. He pulls back and surges forward again, drawing a desperate moan from you.  “Like this?”

You wrap your legs around him, hands sliding down the slick skin of his back until your fingers are gripping his ass, urging him to move faster.

“Yes,” you manage on a shaky breath.  “Like that.  Over and over and over.”

Namjoon buries his smile against your breasts, tonguing at your nipples as his hips piston against you.  He nips at one with his teeth and you whine, back arching off the bed.  

“You’re made for me,” he groans, panting his praise in between deep strokes, “So tight and wet I can’t think.”

You hum your contentment into his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss.  He slips one hand under your ass, dragging you deeper into his heavy strokes and you cry out.  

He’s always hated the echo in this place.  But hearing the sound of your voice calling his name echoing off the walls is an entirely different story.  It lights a fire inside of him -- making him move faster, harder -- desperate to hear it again.

“Namjoon -- “ your hands claw at his back as you cling to him.  “ -- I think, I think I’m going -- “

“You will,” he rasps, when you lose all hope of finishing that thought.

He sinks his thumb into his mouth before dragging it down to rub slow circles across your aching clit and you clamp down around him in response.  He chokes on his own moan, summoning just enough control to keep himself from exploding inside of you.

But then you start to unravel.

In those final moments, you feel hotter and wetter -- begging brokenly in his ear for some kind of relief.  Namjoon holds off until the tight grip of your cunt starts to pulse around him and then he gives in.  He comes so hard his vision darkens before it comes back.  

Then he collapses on top of you, panting and wrecked.

You press a kiss into his neck and rake your nails gently up and down his back.

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

Namjoon wakes up alone.

He should be used to the feeling by now, but after last night -- after you -- he can’t help but feel disappointed.  

He shoves a hand through his hair, slips into a pair of lounge pants and heads to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Then he stops in his tracks.

You are standing in front of the massive window in his living room, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, holding a mug of coffee in one hand.  You sip it thoughtfully and look out over the city, seemingly unaware of his presence.

So Namjoon just stands there for a while, admiring your long legs and soft skin and the dark hair that spills down your back.  Admiring the way you make this place bearable just by existing in it.

“Thought you left me,” he says quietly, and you startle out of your reverie at the sound of his voice.

“I did leave you,” you feign a serious expression, nodding at your mug. “For this. Thought you’d understand.”

“That I do,” he laughs, padding across the room to join you at the window.  

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and you smile up at him.

“What are you thinking about this morning?” Namjoon presses quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sip your coffee and look back out the window before answering.

“I was just thinking about the day I came to ask for you a job,” you confess.  “How afraid and alone I felt back then.”

Namjoon can still remember how he felt seeing you walk into his office after all those years.   It certainly wasn’t afraid or alone and his chest squeezes at your admission.

“And now?”

“Now I feel …” you trail off as you turn back to look up at him.  “... like everything’s going to be okay.”

He stares back at you, suddenly overwhelmed by how good this feels.  

By how good it feels to be needed by you.  

By how you in his shirt, in his apartment, in his life, makes total sense.  

By how it feels like you belong here.

With him.

“You’re right, Jagiya.  Everything is going to be okay,” Namjoon vows, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair.   “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

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

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

Amsaja: Lioness

Jaegyueo: Jaguar

TAG LIST:

@prettyguardiansailormin​​​ @barbikatherine​ @55west81st​ @laabellaavitaa21​ @codeinebelle​ @jalexad​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @poohsaidhi​​ @eltrain80​​ @bluewhale52​​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @midnighttifa​​ @krystle1990​​ @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​​ @hauntedlilies​​ @kjooniesbabygirl​​ @unicorn5090​​ @parkjimin-persona​​ @kosicastairs​​ @julia-pacheco-blog​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @katbonv​​ @sunkissed725​​ @yourdaydreamerfan​​

[notmrskennedy]

Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

-------------

If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

#

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

#

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

#

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

#

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

#

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”