#petition to silence him forever actually

[radarchives]

[takes1]

i am really in love with the way you write asahi!!!! really looking forward to part 2 of tipsy playfighting with him 😊😊😊

[final part] asahi getting rough with petite!reader

hellooooo thank you so much!!! was thiiiis 🤏close to doing a daddy kink thing, chose not to because that's kind of polarizing. like... pineapples on pizza

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / f!rec oral / asahi is the perfect dominant / submissive!reader / aftercare king / fingering / mutual size kink / playfighting kink / rough play kink / power struggle fetish / pseudo-bdsm themes / pet names / mentions of subspace / mid-sex communication / being way too loud / daichi being a great friend / 3.5k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part one here.

'Kind of' made you stall at the top of the stairs.

The second floor, you realized, was all bedrooms. Your legs got heavy, your heart beating like a panicked bird in a cage.

It was ironic. Your ability to handle him downstairs came naturally, but as soon as you had some privacy, it all got intimidating.

Asahi paused after turning the corner. He eased back against the wall with a breath. He glanced to the staircase one more time to make sure nobody had followed you.

"There's nothin' to help with," He laughed, rubbing the side of his stubbly face, "I just- yeah, that was a super lame excuse, actually."

You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, a polite smile, trying to flex all the shivers down. Your crush on him reached its peaks and valleys throughout your years in school together. It reached a happy medium until tonight, starkly reminding you of your old, pushed-down feelings.

He was wicked cute, and that whole performance downstairs was cut too short.

A big breath led to a bigger sigh, "I really wanted to kiss you."

"Me too," You said, with almost no time to let his words settle.

Asahi covered his automatic laugh, and you shared a wholesome moment of mutual, nervous relief.

"Well, uh-," He seethed, eyes up to the ceiling, face much warmer, "If we're being totally honest-,"

The cheers downstairs cut him off. It sounded like Kageyama might have won his match, but neither of you cared.

Asahi suggested, instead, "Should we- go somewhere more private?"

Although you nodded, you weren't sure where he had in mind until he showed you into Daichi's bedroom. You raised your brow, taking in his posters, his books, the layout, feeling a bit guilty that he wasn't in here.

"Oh, I made sure it was cool with him if we- um, talked, in here," He explained.

The supportive body language from those two made infinitely more sense, but you doubted it that ended at 'talking.' You kept your excitement under the surface, for now.

"Right."

He sat on the mattress, a little invested in the feel of the sheets, by the way his hand slid and prodded over the thread count. The ache between your legs was starting to make your whole body cold.

Daichi had those glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, and you didn't want to leave it up to Asahi to fill the silence, so you tried, "How long do y'think he's had those?"

There were at least 20, you counted. When you looked back down, he was relaxed forward, elbows rested on his knees, with his face in his hands, staring straight at you. Screw the ceiling.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flickered dismissively up, "Oh, um- forever, I'm sure."

Asahi was a terrible liar. You were glad he was honest with you in the hall, because he had zero capacity for beating around the bush. His intentions were spoken for, but now they were transparent in his clouded, almost tormented eyes. He made it seem difficult to look at you without touching you.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, right?" The decision to make it easy for him was met with a huge shift in his expression, an ease you saw, earlier, that spread as he ran his hands along your sides.

A gentle brush of his thumb across your cheek, "I did."

Kissing him was simple- it didn't feel rushed, or confusing, at all. He made it all a pleasant and invigorating experience to follow his lead.

His fingers spread through your hair, at the base of your neck. A strong but soft pull brought you into the warm embrace of his body.

He smelled good- mostly like the aged liquor he was nursing most of the night, but a bit woody, with hint of cashmere. Even his scent made you feel taken care of.

"So," You caught your breath for a second, taking in his face as you tucked some hair behind his ear, "Are you sure Daichi's fine with us- talking, all over his bed?"

The way his eyes lit up during his chuckle made you grin, validated and light.

His lips smushed against yours again. He was lifting you up by the waist, setting you on your back with proud effortlessness. You kept your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, getting your fill of his hair while you could.

Before he could completely forget to respond, he hummed a preoccupied, "Yeahh, don't worry about'm."

A hand pinned yours against the mattress.

All he needed was a little reassurance, and he was no longer the sheepish wimp you knew him to be. For a while, when those hot summer seasons coincided with the throws of your crush, it was fun to imagine what he might be like. Now, there was proof, and he didn't disappoint.

The growing pressure he placed on you kept you flat, and slowly limited your ability to move. It was getting familiar.

You tried to move your hand from under his, unlace it, just to touch him, but it proved impossible.

A small chuckle, a little mutter against his temple as he struck crude kisses down the side of your neck: "Can I have my hand back?"

The skin over his knuckles was tough, and his palms were leathery, firm, from all the lifting he did. His strength alone spoke for his dedication, but you felt pleased to know these intimate details about his body.

Your request was met with your other hand being taken hostage. It wasn't fast, but he did it so naturally that you didn't think to move away.

The look he gave you perfectly represented the edge under his words.

"You want your hands back?"

It was a tease-- a way of telling you 'I know you can't move, but I want to see you try.'

You grew warm under the weight of his subtle, playful pushing-- both between your legs and over your palms.

Robbed of your autonomy, but still finding yourself exhilarated by the reality of his size, and his capacity to use it well, the only thing left to do was play along with him. If he had a real thing for this, you wanted to know just how far it went, how worked up it could get you both.

A tiny attempt to pull your arms closer was met with his easy, slow adjustment to cross them instead, above your head. He kissed you through it, all warm and gentle and kind and safe-- but curiously engrossed in your inability to physically overcome him.

It sent a warm chill down your back- flexed, lingering in another ache between your thighs.

His lips were so soft, and sweet, and light, contrasted well against the slight burn of his stubble.

"Mm-," Asahi sighed, a soft peck to your cheek so he could collect himself, "You're givin' up already?"

The warm spill of his words across your face, plus the thrill of his little challenge, had you squirming, all knotted up and itching for him to give you more than just kisses.

"You--," You tensed at his slow, messy sucking along your jaw, "You-mm! Know I can't move..."

Maybe he was taking pity on you- maybe it was your whiny admission fueling a more licentious desire, inspiring him to let you go so he could start stripping you. You delighted in the chance it gave you to watch his reactions.

Soon, you were fully nude- and he was still fully clothed, with no foreseeable urgency to even the imbalance out.

Instead, he let a hand overlap your waist, eyes still busy scouring over you, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Dunno," You mumbled, playing with his fingers as you shot a look to his fly, "Maybe you should check."

Your coquettish quip earned a hasty, rough, but amused kiss. You writhed against his weight again, this time with a justifiable anticipation at the sound of him pulling his cock out.

It was hot as it fell against your skin. A welcome feeling of closeness you couldn't get from much else, just being skin to skin with somebody else. It made you feel a bit like melted butter.

He pushed himself up to take his shirt off, all the while examining his length, pushing it down so that he could measure it in relation to your small torso.

"We'll have to, um..." You trailed, a shaky exhale at his burly, tanned physique, "Be.."

The word 'careful' fell apart on your tongue. Now he was measuring his fingers, next to his cock. One hand remained idle wrapped around the bulk of your thigh.

It was indeed fascinating how some body types probably shouldn't try to come together, like you were. Seemed like an evolutionary flaw.

Especially because the look in his eyes was nothing short of carnivorous. It was occasionally batted back by bouts of concern for the logistics of it all.

"I've got a few ideas," He smiled, real handsome, real sweet, down at you.

Curious, you watched all your favorite muscles of his work and relax again as he backed up off of the mattress, standing at the edge of the bed.

In a second, you had been pulled closer, then adjusted in front of him- it left you breathless at the simple ease of it all. You fixed your hair, a glossy and fixated admiration in your gaze up to him.

Awed, you told him in a shaky giggle, "I really like that..."

Asahi leaned over you; a timid and flattered sigh prickling up your skin, "Yeah?"

His rough hands pinched at your hips as he kissed a messy trail down your tummy.

Whispered, just as his knees hit the carpet, "I like it, too."

It was impossible to not get excited. He always stuck you as a guy with more patience than most.

Patient was a good word to describe the way he ate you out-- he may have liked to toss you around, but it wasn't out of carelessness, or negligence. It was an exploration of boundaries, a bit of power play, and this was played right into the dynamic. His performance wasn't perfect, or void of little, silly hiccups, but it was endearing and fun to discover together.

After he got you warmed up, he began slowly, one by one, pushing his fingers into you.

"How's that feel?"

It was a curious, but flirty question.

He already knew how much you were enjoying yourself, how you were trying to keep yourself quiet under your hand, struggling to not roll your hips into his hand. He just wanted to hear you.

A raspy sigh, a distracted nod, "So g-ood--,"

"Takin' me soo well," He grinned, sucking another messy kiss to you, "Y'want another?"

It wasn't exactly audible, but he was watching that sweet, desperate little expression on your face enough to know you did.

You could feel his smile spread- making your thighs flinch, your body curl at the intensity of getting stretched even further.

"You're so cute."

A mumbly admission, buzzing just right onto you. You were so full of him, reeling in how thick three of his fingers were, and dangerously close once he concentrated on your clit.

Soon you were gripping harder, twitching, then squeezing him--, "H-ah-!"

You started begging when nonverbal queues didn't get through.

"Asahi- asahi, please-ah," You huffed, starting to feel your climax rushing in, threatening to take hold of you, "I'm s-o close-!"

You thought he would stop, for favor of dragging this out longer, but he didn't slow down, nor did he let off of you. The only change was his grip tightening, gripping into your skin. A twitch of your thigh, trying to push on him, was met with a powerful pull to keep it far away, to the side and keep you opened up.

The pressure it brought only added to your rapture- he was actively getting off to watching, hearing, feeling you beg for a break. He loved it.

"Mmn-!" Pulling on his hair did you no favors, other than encouraging that slow, constant swirl of his big tongue around your swollen clit.

In the end, the harshness in your brow, in your clawing fingers, your shaky thighs, all softened under his steady hold. He felt so good taking you apart, then bringing you all back together.

Another messy kiss, so sweet- but so mean, shoved you over the steep edge.

He could feel you tighten, pulse around his fingers and filled you to the knuckle; a tipsy, crooked smile barely visible under his working tongue.

It took so long to come out of the throws of your orgasm that he was already back on top, filling the space above you. You quickly locked your legs around him, hands guiding his face up for a kiss.

His knack for multitasking never stopped. You were given so many gentle, attentive kisses as he put you in the center of the bed, where there was finally room for the both of you.

He wanted you on your elbows and knees. Numb, and tingly, and pliable, you let him adjust you the way he wanted; you kept your debaucherous smile to yourself.

You needed every second of that foreplay to take him- he was the biggest you had ever been with. Thankfully, he also happened to be the sweetest.

"Ooh my god," Your trembling was quelled by the weight of his body.

His groan was low, stuttery, at your tight pussy clenching hard all around him.

He caught his breath, a pretty moan in the back of his throat, "Shit."

His praises were loosely strung together, punctuated in little kisses to the back of your head as he placed his elbows on the mattress, at your sides. If he had been watching, he probably wouldn't have lasted very long.

It was getting rough, quickly, but you found his kind attention more than enough to keep you relaxed.

"Mm-!" You muffled a cry, fisting the sheets while he chuckled at how cute all your little sounds were, hungry for more.

In one fluid motion, he had your arms pinned; one was tucked under you, the other was extended far out in front of you. The responsive gasp was more of your body, reacting on its own, but it was an invigorating thing to consider. He was such a timid guy, so every dirty thing he said or did still took you by surprise.

It was just like how you finished your match earlier, with one big difference.

"Mmnh-aAh! Augh-ah-Mm!"

Your surprised, whiny sounds spilled free against the sheets. His cock filled every bit of you- it felt so good your breath was getting shorter, harder to catch.

You couldn't see it, but he drank that messiness up, a furrowed concentration in his brow to keep giving it to you as hard as you needed.

"You like that?" His voice was right in your neck again, buzzed.

It melted your resistance away- you couldn't even squirm, couldn't tell him yes. You were so full, so close already, that when he stalled deep and cruel, to let you think, your euphoria was barely interrupted. You cried, tearless, drooling a little on Daichi's sheets.

"You wanna talk to me, sweetie?"

The kindness in his voice right now should've been illegal. You breath was getting shaky, your vision long since useless.

"T-ell me-mm, how it feels," He muttered, still egging you on, a kiss to the tip of your ear.

His voice fell away from you, your heart pounding in your ears- you were just swimming in delectation. His warmth, his sure delivery of careful pleasure, his gravelly, well-meaning taunts. It was starting to take you far away, for the first time.

You noticed, but didn't react to his retracting hands, nor the readjustment of his weight off of you.

He was deeply troubled that you hadn't responded to him.

If Asahi had been any more experienced or confident, he would've known the clear signs of subspace-- but considering his experience ended at some casual sex, and the absence of conversation, and not understanding of either of your limits, he thought he fucked up, bad.

You were just different. That made him nervous.

Concern laced his voice quick, a sobering sound.

"Hey?" There were a couple taps to your cheek, and when you got your focus back, he was bending to try to get a good look at your face.

You gave a weak smile, "Mm?"

"You okay?"

A big stretch, an otherwise silly invitation for him to put his hands back on top of yours, "Mmmmhm..."

The way you sat back a little, pushing yourself gently onto his cock, made him take a second. A quick moment to suck in a restrained breath. Then a reserved, relieved chuckle.

"Are you- sure?" Was his last attempt. Now he was noticing the shakiness from your legs, your irregular breathing.

He put a tiny peck to your temple, fingers carefully running over your side.

You gave a close-mouthed whine and winced away at the ticklish sensation, "God-- Just fuck me please,"

When he was watching where to put his hands, he noticed your wiggly fingers, and grinned- happy to take you up on the offer, again.

He met your light pushing with stronger, steady strokes that kept you gasping- whiny, with pleasure.

Your endurance was absolute garbage, when it came to his unconventional way of treating you. Neither of you were expecting it to click so well- not as just-friends, for years, with on-and-off separate partners and countless, ill-timed crushes on each other.

It was amusing to think of how different this would make your 'friendship' now. How could you tell the team you were dating, after they watched what was essentially half of your foreplay downstairs?

This orgasm washed over you in shorter, smaller waves than the first- but it took so long to fully crest that it felt a thousand years longer.

You weren't particularly loud, this time, but now that he was paying so much attention to you, he spoke you through it with unparalleled timing.

"Good, fuck- that's good," He sighed, huffy, in your ear.

His hand quickly clasped over your mouth before you could make a sound.

Though you felt so perfect, the little scare you gave him warded off any chance he had at cumming, too. It'd have to wait for some other time. The satisfaction from getting you to this point was more than enough payoff for him.

"Good girl."

You had never felt so disconnected from your own body before. It was like you felt your climax about two rooms down the hall- and all it left you with was some invisible, heavy blanket all across your limbs.

For all that was worth, it was pretty cool.

His quiet shushing, all in your ear, was the evidence you needed that you hadn't been entirely present. You weren't sure when he started and when he stopped.

"You're okay- you're okay," He cooed, thumb gently brushing your warm cheek.

He held you incredibly still, listening, watching, for you, before pulling out.

You felt like a heavy bag of sand.

In fact, after he had shifted slowly off you and leaned closer, the way you slumped down was akin to one. Maybe more of a bag of concrete mix, instead.

It was staggering to believe your sweet, silly, nervous Asahi took it out of you, like that.

"You okay?" He was ultra-gentle, now, sliding featherlight touches over your back.

It was just enough to keep you awake.

"(Y/n)?"

You didn't realize you needed to respond. A slow, laborious sigh. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see him, once again, leaning over you to watch your face.

"Yeah..."

It didn't convince him- he looked like he was going to call an ambulance.

"I'm- tired," You went to push yourself up.

The intense quivering in your arms stopped you. Having to push back against him for so long was exhausting, and now you were completely spent. You wondered if it had anything to do with the little fight earlier, too.

He shook his head when he noticed you try to move on your own again, "Nono, I got you."

For the millionth time tonight, his ability to pick you up, from whatever position he found himself in, left you in a delighted daze. He set you so that you at least had a pillow under your head.

"You need some water? Let me go get some for you real quick."

You did feel pretty dried up. Like a dead, frail flower.

A tiny nod, and he was rushing to put on enough clothes, zipping out the door in search of water. You fell asleep in the short time he was gone, too sleepy to pull the covers over you or to roll to your side.

"Mmh..."

It had only been a minute or so.

But you felt a thousand years old, getting woken up from an ancient slumber, when a soft throw blanket was covering you- a big, gentle hand over top of it, rubbing your shoulder to rouse you.

Asahi settled to your side, watched closely as you drank, and pressed more kisses to the side of your head. He reached over you to set the bottle on the bedside table.

"Thank you," You leaned into him, then decided to give him a little edge of the blanket, too, and rested your head on his chest, "I'm okay."

"Good."

He was warm. You squeezed an arm over him.

"How are we gonna tell everyone?" You mumbled, against his tummy.

"I-... don't think we need to."

Confused at what he meant by that, you stopped trying to burrow into him, and propped up a little to look him in the face.

"Uh-," He tilted his head from side to side, a little warmth on his tan features, "We weren't...exactly...quiet."

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my masterlist. more haikyuu.

[bunnysthetics]

congratulations to @oneknightstand-if for being the thing to finally motivate me into posting oc things again after (checks notes) 2 years. had SO much fun with this story, i can't even recommend it enough. i love how in-depth and quirky the character creation is (purple eyes and red riding hood cape? say no more.)

Siobhan Woolf / "Sidhé Benoni" (because what could possibly go wrong with making your fake undercover pseudonym literally the Celtic word for your deepest secret?)

25 | Female (she/her) | Bisexual | Changeling

Appearance: Short and petite (5'3"), short wavy pink hair, violet eyes, wears a red riding hood everywhere and then acts shocked when people gawk at her for dressing like a freak. She has a pair of wings tattooed on her back, and a tattoo of foxgloves on her arm (that i did not even attempt to draw because i'm a goddamn hack).

Occupation: Fairy Princess Wildlife Biologist

Background: Abusive Childhood

Fear: Being the center of attention (no the cape does not help in the slightest)

Vice: Greed

Addiction: Prescription Drugs

She is *mute and has a chronic resting bitch face that makes her seem unapproachable at first glance, but in reality Siobhan is nothing but sweet and fully of whimsy. She has a crush on her best friend that she doesn't even try keeping a secret and her favorite past-time involves relentlessly teasing him and making his life a living hell. She's obsessed with Arthurian lore and werewolves (even though the game is determined to block me from that parameter *dies*) and felt very validated by the revelation of the hellhound because it still counts damn it.

*I like the idea of her muteness actually being a curse caused by her mom inadvertently cursing her into silence during one of her verbal rants. ("Just be quiet forever!") Something something fae magic forcing her into obedience a la Ella Enchanted idk. It doesn't make sense and isn't at all accurate to the traditional fae mythos but dammit I'm sticking with it until the game inevitably contradicts the idea.

board, playlist

[voidcat]

— fool’s bloom

characters: spirit blossom thresh (spirit of obsession) x gn!reader

a/n: idek what this is- months of silence and I decided to write a quick league of legends thingy LMAO in favor of ignoring neurology uhuh owo anywyas enjoy slight undertones of a thresh growing jealous and possessive but turning a blind eye to/ignoring these emotions

For all the years he has roamed Runaterra, Thresh thinks he has figured people out pretty much by now.

Foolish little creatures, driven by their fears and impulses, desires and selfishness, it all becomes the same after a while for the grim wraith himself.

Takes one to know one, one of the souls once dared speak up, he hadn’t even noticed he was thinking out loud until then; with a not so gentle shake of his lantern, signaling what shall await them later that night, he shuts the damned soul up in no time.

Foolish little creatures, but not as dull as he has come to find them as of late, Thresh thinks as he spots the figure his eyes have grown familiar with.

Wraith or not, he is not one to succumb so easily to violence and the satisfaction born from others sufferings.

Thresh is a collector first and foremost; of people, souls, memories, their agonies and fading selves, all the emotions that make them people, brimming to the fullest yet unaware they’ll never reach the surface again.

The dark waves of the sea with its harsh waves, he keeps them underwater forever and ever.

He sees some souls unfit for his reaping, and some, he decides to wait. To let them mature, or for your case, allow them a glimpse at him, glowing mist of bad news and horns above his head, letting the seeds of fear spread into your chest, for the next time you will shake with terror like none other.

Except; you prove an exception to that.

He finds you odd, and a little off putting if he were still a mere human. Instead of running away, it almost feels as him you’re seeking him out, intentionally.

A fool, no matter the feeling underneath the actions.

Ah, but that lack of fear takes the fun out of him and by now you seem to know it too. Going as far as to call out to him and wave a hand, as if he can mistake your voice for anyone else in that deserted forest— “Hey mister warden! Fancy joining me for a cozy afternoon tea?”

A fool, he murmurs the words again and disappears before you can catch up to him. Yet it doesn’t go unnoticed by him how your shoulders drop once he is out of your sight. Surely you’re not as stupid enough to actually mean your offer now?

It’s not so bad per see, he decides. You make the most exceptional distraction for him to collect more souls, even if you notice or not. With the presence of someone else in the same place as them, people feel safe, let their guards down; not expecting his scythe to land, nor the glowing lantern to become their new homes.

Maybe he will allow you to roam a little longer, until you grow old, or witness him in action and begin to fear— another miscalculation on his part, he will soon find out, as he did with any matter relating to you.

Souls ripped apart from their once-hosts, sucked into the lantern like petite flowers in bloom, his scythe still warm and swaying in the air slightly, Thresh catches your eyes on him, watching from afar. He thinks, at last, the moment of fear has come, until he sees your mouth agape, pupils dilated, with fascination in your eyes; a fool or an oddity? He once more finds himself lacking to describe as to what you are.

Accepting that your increasing offers will not end any time soon, nor the time to reap your soul will come any sooner, he lets out a sigh and carries on like he always did, ignoring you majority of the time. At this point he is unsure himself whether he wants your soul to be with him for an eternity, he doubts even death can part you with that fascination in your eyes and admiration written all over your face— what is it about him that has you so impressed, he wonders from time to time.

Even though it is still a mystery as to why you’re so attached to him, in the process Thresh hasn’t realized his attachment to you in return.

Only with your sudden lack of presence one day he realizes, and wonders where you are. You were watching him with those doe eyes from the side just a moment ago; what is it that kept you from following him? He finds himself hurrying, reaping the soul at hand not so elegantly, as if he ever cared about such things, and halts when he hears your voice raised.

Your singsong melody has become such a constant for him that he has forgotten you don’t speak with anyone like this. You sound worried, he notices, until an unfamiliar voice hushes you, ordering you to keep quiet and few other things he fails to recognize as he hurries.

A quick sway and throw of his scythe and the man is stunned, then pulled towards him, right into the lantern as he raises it in the intruder’s direction.

A rash action on his part, he realizes, only after this sound of quick and rhythmic beating stops ringing in his ears and he feels the velocity of something warm thrown into his direction, not strong enough to cause a shake in his posture— his arms faltering, he looks down to be met with your body pressed into his, arms wrapped around him, tightly, that he realizes the shake is happening somewhere deep down, not on any levels physical but something entirely different.

A new unfamiliarity he would like to think, but he knows better, he has been aware of this unknown brewing inside him for a while, allowing it to bloom with each passing interaction.

Only when he feels the drop of a weight, Thresh realizes he has let go of his scythe, the now vacant hand finding its way to your back; at the contact, he feels you tighten your hold, burying your head further to his chest— clearing his mind of his arising thoughts, he leaves it for another time to wonder what this will bring for the two of you now; for now, he allows himself to feel your hold on him, your warmth soon blending into his; your calm, even breaths and fast beating heart the only things he hears.

[marvelgurl789fanfics]

Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Child OC

(Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Rogue)

~Taken Part 5 to Safe~

New Normal (Part 4)

Warning: none

(Not the best at grammar or punctuation)

Summary: A fun day at the mall with Gambit and Fiona turns into a nightmare for Gambit.

Masterlist

The poll for Fiona’s powers has concluded. Thank you all for voting.

~~~~~

Fiona ran into the kitchen still in her pajamas with Gambit close behind her. “Uncle Scott!” Fiona said a bit too loudly hugging Scott’s leg while he was pouring himself some coffee. “Good morning to you too” Scott greeted Fiona with a kind but tired smile. “Let’s let Uncle Scott wake up a bit more before you attack him Mon petit” Gambit chuckled grabbed a mug for coffee himself. Fiona took to calling all the other x men uncle or aunt with the exception of Jubilee who was Big Sissy, Professor Xavier who became Grandpa not that the professor minded the new title, and of course Gambit who remained Papa. Fiona released Scott to cling to Gambit’s leg looking up at him with a pout, “don’t give Père that look, he’s gonna make breakfast” Gambit said earning a giggle from the girl. “Bacon” Fiona announced, “remind père to thank uncle Logan for showing you bacon” Gambit joked knowing it was her new favorite food even outside of breakfast.

A rare time Logan was actually cooking for everyone but decided to make eggs and bacon with toast. Fiona was skeptical of the meat on her plate a first but quickly became addicted finishing her two piece on her plate and Gambit letting her have two more. Fiona reached for the plate of bacon in the middle of the breakfast table before Gambit stopped her. “Gambit knows you like it Mon petit but no more for right now eat your eggs” Gambit said hating to tell her no but worried too much would upset her stomach with the greasiness. With a pout Fiona ate her eggs but her eyes lit up when Logan snuck one more piece of bacon on her plate, Gambit lightly glared at Logan who just had a smug grin and shrugged.

Gambit made breakfast while Fiona greeted everyone who enter the kitchen for breakfast. Soon breakfast was done and everything was sitting eating discussing their plans for the day, while Gambit kept a close eye on Fiona’s bacon intake. “I heard there is a new clothing store opening at the mall today, it’s some popular boutique from LA” Jubilee shared, “sounds fancy” Rogue interest peaked. “Come with me” Jubilee said with a smile, “If you insist” Rogue agreed. “Cher if it’s not too much trouble could you pick up more cards for Gambit, he’s down to his final deck” Gambit asked, “sure thing sugar, but your getting uno cards” Rogue joked getting a fake pout from Gambit. “Why don’t you and Fiona come too it will be fun” Jubilee asked but received a slightly worried look from Gambit and Rogue before realization dawned on her. People could easily tell Fiona’s a mutant.

“I think that’s a great idea” the professor spoke up over the silence that swept over to table, earning a nervous look from most of the x men. “The professor right, she can’t just stay hidden in the mansion forever. There’s a car seat in the garage still that adjusts for her age” Jean agreed with a bit of sadness in her eyes at the thought of her son but kept the smile on her face. “You really think I’d be ok?” Gambit asked the professor while he looked at his little girl too busy eating her food to pay attention to the conversation. “I can’t promise you that Gambit, but Fiona’s still a child and needs to learn to be around others besides us. If anything were to happen she has you, Rogue, and Jubilees there with her. Though she is your daughter now, the choice is ultimately your” the Professor answered with a supportive smile. “What do you think Cher?” Gambit asked his other half, “We could give it a try, but we should have a talk with her first about how some people are” Rogue said trying to reassure him.

After breakfast Gambit with the help of Rogue they tried to explain to Fiona about being a mutant and how some people view them. “You understand sugar?” Rogue asked the child sitting between her and Remy on the couch in the rec room, Fiona nodded her head in understanding. “Any questions?” Gambit asked placing his hand on her head in a comforting manner, “why they hate us?” Fiona asked looking to the two adults for an answer but getting sad smiles. “Père don’t know Mon petit, but I love you so much” Gambit said placing a kiss to her head. “Do you want to go on an outing with us and Jubilee? It will be fun.” Rogue asked the girl trying to convince her. A nod of her head Fiona agreed. “Then let’s get you dressed while your papa set up a car seat for you” Rogue said picking up Fiona carefully.

*****

Fiona’s was jumping around dancing in the entrance way of the X mansion, “Outing, Outing” she chanted excitedly in blue jeans and princess Tiana T-shirt. Tiana quickly became Fiona’s favorite princess once Gambit mentioned he was From New Orleans too. Jubilee laughed at Fiona cute excitement in her signature pink shirt and yellow jacket, while Rogue doubled checked she was covered with her tights and long sleeved dark pink dress and gloves. “Gambit got the car seat set up” Gambit said walking in the mansion having just having installed a car seat for Fiona in the back seat of Rogue’s red convertible. “Looks like we can head out now, took you long enough Cajun” Rogue teased him while grabbing her purse. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting Cher” Gambit laughed and grabbed Fiona’s small purple hoodie.

“Mon petit calm down, put on your hoodie it’s chilly out there” Gambit smiled kneeling down to Fiona’s height, with some struggling at first Gambit was able to help Fiona put on her hoodie. “You remember what we talked about?” Gambit tone turning to a more serious putting Fiona’s hood up covering most of her face. Fiona nodded her head “You are beautiful Mon petit just some people can’t appreciate that” Gambit said assuringly before standing and putting on the sunglasses that Rogue handed him to cover his eyes. The group head out the door to the car, after getting Fiona bucked up Gambit joined Rogue up Front in the passenger seat while Jubilee sat by Fiona.

The Drive wasn’t too bad Fiona was looking around amazing by everything they drove by. Rogue found a decent spot to park once at the mall, “Want to go with Père or with Rogue and Jubilee” Gambit asked Fiona while helping her out of the car. “Papa” Fiona answered, “ok, stay close to père” Gambit said getting a nod from her. “Meet up at the food court at noon?” Jubilee asked looking at her watch reading 9:30, “works for Gambit” Gambit agreed. “Let’s get going before this new boutique is picked over and all the good stuffs is gone” Rogue said leading Jubilee to their destination. “Père got to pick up more cards then we can look around” Gambit said picking up Fiona walking to the casino supply store he knows has the best price for playing cards, plus the owner doesn’t seem to have a problem with mutants learning that after his sunglasses fell off before in the store.

“Remy should have known you’d be in before too long” The old man sitting behind the counter greeted, “bonjour Frank” Gambit greeted, “who’s this little one, I didn’t know you had a kid” Frank asked giving Fiona a kind wave. Fiona hid herself in the crook of Gambit’s neck earning a light laugh from him. “this is Fiona, still kind of a new thing” Gambit introduced her. “Ah adoption, my son and his wife just adopted a little boy themselves” Frank smiled. “Fiona this is a Friend of Père, this is Frank” Gambit said trying to help her not be so shy, Fiona lifted her head looking at the older man behind to counter but received a surprise look from the man before the smile returned. “It’s very nice to meet you Fiona” Frank said kindly. “Can you grab a few pack of cards for père?” Gambit said setting Fiona down and pointing to a low shelf still in his view, getting a nod and Fiona went on her mission.

“Her parents gave her up to that school?” Frank asked in a whisper, “Non, found the sweet girl in a lab locked in a cage” Gambit said with sadness in his voice. “How can anyone do that to a child?” Frank said and shook his head. “Papa” Fiona said walking back two packs of cards one in each hand holding them up to Gambit, “Merci Mon petit” Gambit smiled taking the packs of cards and placing them on the counter then grabbing 6 more packs himself and checking out tucking the packs away in the inner pockets on his jacket. “It was good to see you again Remy stay safe would hate to lose my best customer, and it was lovely to meet you Fiona” Frank said, “Remy will try” Gambit said while Fiona shyly waved bye.

Fiona held Gambit’s hand even though he had to lean down a bit so she could as they walk around the mall. Gambit let Fiona pull him around letting her explore, but stopped when they reached a carousel Fiona looking at with interest. “What’s that?” Fiona asked eyes sparkling, “it’s a carousel Mon petit, want to go on it?” Gambit asked receiving an eager nod. Walking over to the line of other parents waiting with their children. Soon the line started moving letting the new round of people on board, paying the worker the ride fee once reaching the entrance. Fiona spotted a carousel horse with a horn and pointing out the unicorn to Gambit, “you want to ride this one?” Gambit asked her getting an excited nod he lifted her up and onto the unicorn keeping his hand placed on her back to keep her steady.

The ride started shortly once the last child was seated, Gambit never understood the fun in carousel but knew most children found them fun. Fiona seemed very happy once the ride started to move giggle at the unicorn’s up and down movement, but the carousel came to an abrupt stop making people lose balance. Fiona almost fell but was caught by Gambit but he ended up falling flat on his back taking the impact of the fall keeping Fiona to his chest. It took a few seconds for Gambit to clear his head and register the panic screams around them, standing keeping Fiona safely in his arms he seen Rogue and Jubilee fighting a Sentinel.

Running over to the ride operator booth that was now empty he sat Fiona down, “stay right here” Gambit said in a strict tone that Fiona never heard before she did as told and sat in the corner of the booth hidden. Gambit joined his Teammates in the fight throwing charged card at the Sentinel, “surrender Mutants” the robot announced knocking Rogue from the sky causing her to hit the ground before Gambit could catch her. The sentinel picked up a chunk of wall it had broken and thrown it Jubilee’s direction, Gambit was able to push her out of the way but ended getting hit with the rubble making everything go black.

Waking to being shook awake by Wolverine “Cajun wake up” Wolverine said as Gambit jumped up, looking around confused for a second before the previous event came to him mind. “Where the sentinel?” Gambit asked, “got away” Wolverine said with an aggressive growl in his voice. “Fiona safe?” Gambit asked getting to his feet. Wolverine just looked away from him not answering the question, “where’s Fiona?” Gambit asked again more firmly. “It got her” Cyclops said with a sadden sigh. Gambit froze up completely as if the world stopped, a few months ago before he met Fiona he would have never fathomed this fear, worry and anger that over took him making him feel sick. The pure horror on Gambit face was clear to everyone, “we’ll find her sugar” Rogue said hugged him leaning her head on his shoulder trying to give him comfort despite her own grief. “The Professor already looking through Cerebro, just a matter of time” Jean added placing a comforting hand on his back.

~~~~~

Any suggestions or ideas are welcome. Got other parts planned check out Masterlist.

I don’t know French, all French is from google translate:

Cher (dear)

Mon petit (my little one)

Père (dad/ father)

Bonjour (hello)

Non (no)

Merci (thank you)

Part 6

[dissonantia-goddess-of-chaos]

Rimilda, Bastard Daughter of all Great Ones: [ageless]

"All sounds range in tone, yet silence rings the loudest... Child of many, yet child of none... Bastardized child of a wedlock marriage, born into the world by empty womb... Birth by the blood of the limitless mother of all and her harem of souls... Parasite of the eggs of a whore, a holy nun, and an undead queen who lost her young to creatures untold... Fed by the blood of all cursed creatures of the night... Bonded to the blood of all Great Ones... Wrapped in the silver silk of arachnids... Fall, fall, fall into the arms of your mother, young Guardian of Yharham... Bare the face only They could love, with three pairs of wings to soar and quadruple the arms to wield your blades... And forever protect your name, O' Great One Rimilda."

Dissonantia— disguised as a hunter with a sickle + chain whip as her merge weapon, wearing a victorian era metal alicorn mask (like how Elise the Crow wears a bird mask) that has a curved horn, empty eye sockets and nostrils, and it's mouth is agape so Dissonantia can breathe out fire— created an "embryo" made out of her blood and the DNA of all of her spouses, the ovums of a whore (Adriana), a nun (Adelle), and a queen (Yharham), the blood of the drunken (almost every "normal" enemy in the game), a drop of blood from every Great One, and protected by the spiders' silk to form an artificial womb.

Rimilda was born similar to a butterfly, crawling up the side of the cocoon and slowly stretching and spreading out her feathered wings after ripping out of the spider webbing at the bottom, the fluids from her artificial womb pouring out.

Her face similar to Twisted Alice Angel from BATIM and BATDR, with the deformed side of her face covered with eyes and blemishes. Her right eye is a pale blue with a visible pupil, while her left eye is slightly swollen and completely black.

She has a forked tongue that acts similar to reptilian tongues.

Her body shape is slim and petite, half as tall as the Orphan of Kos. She has the same skin tone as him.

She thinks of him as an older brother figure.

She is mute most of the time, only talking to those who are worth her time.

She has six wings similar to Mergo's Wet Nurse, but with many shiny black eyes on them.

She has four arms, with the upper ones stretched out adorned with larger hands.

She has a serpent tail similar to the Godskins from Elden Ring.

Slimy purple snakes and black leech-like tendrils can come out of her mouth during a five-second grapple attack, biting the player and taking their health by 10 points.

She can be heard humming the Winter Lanterns' song from time to time.

She can form a blood whip by using her old umbilical cord that's attached to a bloody spiked morningstar. (Link)

She was given an unbreakable lanternflail. (Link)

She is constantly hungry, and often snacks on dead corpses to avoid eating the living if there isn't actual food nearby.

Her hair is made out of Kos's hair tentacles that slowly turn into black snakes at the tips. (Link)

She can become a giant hydra dragon (search up "false hydra") when "defeated" for the first round of a battle. (Link)

[thepenultimateword]

A response to @esperosisdoeswriting's prompt #527!

"They always said that it's better to die a hero, than to live long enough to see yourself become the villain...." They stared down at [Hero]'s grave, tears freely streaming down their face.

"But to be honest, I think I'd rather have you here with me."

Villain laid her hand across the cold headstone and let the chill seep into her palm. Crisp autumn air numbed her gloveless knuckles and made the insides of her ears ache, but she stayed still, reaching, waiting, hoping for a feeling, a voice, a sound. Anything that proved that Hero was still with her. That he wasn't just gone.

It had been six months, but a part of Villain still couldn't believe it was real. Surely, this was all some elaborate coverup for Hero's big comeback. Villain may have seen the moment when his body crumpled, but he wasn't actually dead, just injured. The agency must have whisked the real him away somewhere and left a decoy in his place. When he recovered he'd be back, and wouldn't the whole city be surprised?

A chill wind dragged her back to reality, flapping her coat and stretching its icy fingers through the open spaces in her clothes. Villain shivered against the rising goosebumps and freezing tear streaks on her cheeks. She dropped her hand off the stone.

Hero was not alive. He could not speak to her.

The fallen leaves scattered across the cemetery in windswept piles, little husks of things once living. The caretaker really should have been sweeping them, but Villain didn't mind the neglect since it kept her aware of anyone coming in and out of the gates. Even if Hero had been soft for her, the agency was another story, and the media hadn't quite absolved her of fault for Hero's death. As if she would ever--

The sharp crunch of leaves sounded directly behind her.

What? She hadn't heard anyone come in! How had they gotten so close?

Villain whirled around so fast that her coat slapped the headstone, knocking over a few trinkets and stuffed animals that civilians had left at the base of the grave. Her hand fisted and pulled back, prepared to knock her attacker senseless, but midway to the punch, she froze.

The petite man stared at her with wide gray eyes the same color as the overcast sky. His oversized hoodie definitely wasn't warm enough for this weather and a striped sock poked out through a hole in the toe of one sneaker. He clutched a large bouquet close to his chest and his try for a smile ended up looking more like a cringe.

“Sorry, um, I’ll just wait til you’re done.”

"Sidekick?" Villain had never seen Hero's fighting partner out of costume, but she recognized his slender fingers and mussed beach wave curls.

"Hey...Villain." He shuffled uncomfortably, crunching the leaves even louder. Villain still couldn't believe she hadn't heard him. Well, it was about time the agency zeroed in on her. She couldn't hide forever.

“So,” Villain said, acting as if her sniffle was from the cold and not the tailend of tears, “are we nemeses now? You’re taking Hero’s place?”

“Oh, no,” Sidekick said awkwardly. “No, they moved someone else in that slot. I’ve been assigned a new hero to assist… Guess you don’t get promotions when you screw up your last assignment.”

His voice cracked through a humorless smile and he stared hard at his fingers, twisting the twine binding his bouquet of violets together.

Villain furrowed her brow. “It’s not like it was your fault."

“I don’t know,” Sidekick shrugged. “I think…maybe if I had been there…things would’ve been different.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them as their thoughts wandered back to that dreadful day, but Sidekick quickly cut it short with a slight cough.

“Um,” he motioned his bouquet toward the headstone, “may I?”

“Oh. Oh! Of course!” Villain hastily backed up onto another grave and waved him onward. “Go ahead.”

Sidekick offered a weak smile before stepping forward and gingerly placing the flowers in a stone vase built beside the grave. He squeezed his eyes shut, unmoved by the howl of the wind in the bare branches and the distant shriek of traffic. Villain felt a little silly thinking he'd been there for her. Of course, he visited Hero too. They'd been partners, and Hero had adored him.

After a few moments, Sidekick backed up from the grave. His gaze flicked up to her but immediately faltered back toward the headstone. "It doesn't feel real."

"I know what you mean," Villain said hollowly.

"He was just... He was just here. We made plans to go to this stupid concert for this stupid band he wouldn't stop sneaking onto my playlist." Sidekick's eyes sparked and a smile crept up his jaw but then it straightened out again. "It was yesterday. I went alone."

"Punk Love Warriors?"

"Yeah."

"Hero had terrible taste in music."

"Yeah." Sidekick choked on a chuckle. He knelt down and straightened up the trinkets that Villain had just knocked over. His hand lingered on the last teddy bear, thumb stroking over its fluffy ears.

“Do you want to get some coffee?” he said suddenly, looking up at her. “You don’t have to say yes. I just thought…we could talk? Everyone else acts like Hero never existed and..."

He trailed off, averting his gaze quickly toward the gates.

Villain checked the time on her phone, knowing very well she had nothing else planned. "I suppose I can make some time."

***

Villain blew at the film of milk clouded over the surface of her coffee and closed her eyes against the steam warming her face. “How often do you visit him?”

"Twice a week." Sidekick stirred the whipped cream into his hot chocolate until it was only floating white whisps. Despite saying coffee, upon their arrival, he'd abashedly admitted that he hated the taste. It seemed like Hero had once mentioned something about Sidekick having a sweet tooth.

"I've never seen you."

"I usually go early in the morning, right at sunrise, or late at night. I've heard there are certain times when the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest. Maybe that's nonsense, but sometimes I think I can almost feel him."

“I don’t,” Villain said. “Feel him that is. I want to. I try to. But…no.”

She monotonously ripped open a second sugar packet and watched it break through the milk cloud and disappear. As she took a sip, she cringed. Too sweet.

“Do you remember that deep undercover mission Hero and I went on a couple years ago? Down in Trenton?”

“The Vesuvius sting. Yeah. I couldn’t contact Hero for two months.”

It had seemed so unbearable at the time, but now what she wouldn’t give for his absence to be temporary now.

Sidekick nodded. “Well, Hero did nothing but talk about you the entire time. Wondering what you were doing, sharing little bits of your daily routine, talking about what you’d do together when he got back. It was…actually really annoying.”

Villain chuckled at Sidekick’s grimace and hoped her blush wasn’t too obvious. Of course, it was just like Hero to overshare and not tell her about it.

“My point is,” Sidekick said, “Hero loved you a lot. And that type of love doesn’t end. Not even after death. It just doesn’t make sense to me. So, even if you can’t feel him, I know Hero wouldn’t leave you alone. He’s there. He has to be.”

Villain felt a sob rising up her throat and forced it down with another sickly sweet gulp of coffee. She didn’t know if what Sidekick said was true, but it felt good. It was probably the first peace she’d felt since…since before Hero…

Since before Hero died, she forced herself to think.

“Maybe…we should do this again.”

Villain glue her gaze to her hands wrapped around her mug, too nervous to look Sidekick in the face in case her suggestion made him feel awkward. Maybe he’s only invited her today out of pity.

“I’d like that,” Sidekick said, quietly, warmly. His smile was audible in his voice. Just like Hero.

…

Clearing out some drafts 😁

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoa-sprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps

[venusiangguk]

hand-picked | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / famous!jk x sex worker!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, teaser, drabble

>>word count: 2.8k

>>warnings: glory hole au!!!, cocky jk, bad boy jk, stripper oc, sex work, sexual tension, awkward tension, hand job, blowjob, cumshot, cum on tits, pay for play, semi-anonymous sex, dirty talk, dishonesty...  that’s it i think zzz

>>notes: if u don’t like sex workers ur ugly and i hate u 😌 also ty to @wheresmymoniat​ for betaing n helping me out, ily <3 *repost bc tag issues don’t mind me 🙄*

>>summary: glory holes weren’t a real thing... at least until you’re on your knees for a stranger, cock in your face, with nothing but a curtain between you.

Despite your nerves, you grasp the semi-hard cock in front of you, attached to a nameless person behind the curtain. For a moment you wonder what the hell you’re doing, but the soft sigh that you hear brings you back to the present. You stroke up and down, watching as he starts to become fully aroused. The foreskin rolls over the pink tip on every upstroke. You bite your lip. The silence is awkward, but you think maybe the whole situation is.

 “So... what do you do? Like… not specifically of course, but are you an idol? An actor? You can be vague…” 

 Behind the curtain, Jeongguk, whom you don’t know the identity of, stiffens just a bit. Will his voice give him away? Maybe, but he was never one to turn down an opportunity to boast about himself and his achievements.

 “I’ve done it all,” His voice is airy, softer than he would like, but your hand on his cock is speeding up, and so is his breathing. “I’m good at all of it too.”

 You hum at the man’s response. Cocky. “Isn’t saying you’re good at a lot of things just another way of saying you’re not good enough at one thing? So you have to compensate by spreading yourself thin?” You gasp a small giggle when you feel the cock in your hand jump a little at your words. “Did you like that? It wasn’t meant to be degrading, but if that’s what you’re into-“

 “It’s not- that.” He doesn’t know if he’s denying your psychoanalyzation, or your keen interpretation of the way his cock reacted to your psychoanalyzation but one was more inaccurate than the other. He actually was great at most everything he did, no need to overcompensate like you assumed. 

 Your small hand tightens, and you rub your thumb at the underside of the head, you let out a small pleased noise when you see a bead of precum well at the tip. “Really? You’re starting to leak a little.”

 You sound amused and humorous and if Jeongguk had it in him he would be annoyed or even upset at the way you’re talking to him. You were basically hired help, a means to an end. He glances down his torso at his hard cock in your tiny, well-kept manicured hands. Your nails are a dark red, burgundy color. It complements your skin well, he thinks. He can’t see much of you, just your forearms, along with the bottom part of your tummy and your legs. You’re sitting on your knees between his spread out thighs, feet tucked under you. From the tight black leggings you’re wearing and the slim-fit long sleeve white crop top you have on, Jeongguk can tell you have a good figure. Your waist is tapered in, tiny and cinched, and your hips are wide enough to accentuate it, letting him know you’ve got a petite hourglass frame. You aren’t too skinny though, there’s a softness to your body that he likes. It’s not like he needed the tight fitting clothes to know what your body looked like, though. He’s already seen more of it than he is right now. His mind flashes to the club.

 You may be hired help, but you were hand-picked by him. 

 “It’s just-“ He contemplates what to tell you and settles for, “It’s been a while.”

 “Since?” You push. You hear footsteps outside and you hand stops, scared for some reason that you’ll get caught doing something bad. As if the door wasn’t locked and being guarded. Behind the black curtain, his hips lift just barely, urging you to keep going. Don’t stop.

 “Since someone’s helped me.” Jeongguk’s head rolls back when your hand starts moving again. It’s been at least a few months since he’s gotten off with someone, his hand being his only companion. After the situation blew up even more than it had in months prior, his leash was tight. No wiggle room at all. He was suffocating and desperate. He almost cried when his team propositioned this arrangement, embarrassing as it was.

 When he speaks, his voice is soft and everything is said with a sigh. He sounds so relieved, like it feels so good to be in your palm, like he’s been waiting for your hand on his cock forever. You blush, and right your thoughts. You don’t even know who he is or what he looks like. Still, you ask, “Does it feel good, do you like it?” Tone soft to match his.

 Jeongguk nods and swallows thickly. Eyes still closed, letting the pleasure slowly work its way through his veins. Then he remembers you can’t see him. “Yeah.” He breathes.

 You hum and keep up your ministrations. Not slow, but not fast either. You’re not quite sure what he likes yet, but the soft moans that flutter through the curtain at least let you know what you’re doing isn’t wrong. 

 “I like your hands,” He surprises you by saying. “They’re so small; soft,” A more vocal sound falls from his lips when you twist your hand on the upstroke. He’s chuckling when he says, “Kinda strokes my ego a little bit.”

 You glance at the cock in your hand. It’s pretty. Thick and pink. A pleasant kind of heavy in your hand. The veins running over it are subtle enough to not be ugly or intimidating. The only intimidating thing about it is the size. He’s big. And you’re sure he already knows that. 

 You snort. “I don’t think you need that stroked.”

 This makes him laugh a little harder. It’s a nice sound. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He hums, you think you can hear a smile in his voice. It’s quiet again for just a moment before he says, “Will you- faster? Make your hand a little tighter too- yeah, like that.”

 His hips sink into the chair when you comply with his requests before he’s bringing them back up, subtly thrusting into your palm. You fight back a moan; you shouldn’t be getting hot for someone you don’t even know right? This was strictly business. Still, you can’t help the slight shifting you do, squeezing your legs together for a little bit of pressure on your pussy.

 Jeongguk notices. “Are you turned on?”

 “No!” You squeak.

 “You can touch yourself,” He offers.

 “No!” You insist, “I-I’m fine.Thank you though.” You say dumbly.

 He doesn’t say anything more, focuses on your hand on him, tugging just how he asked. His hand rubs over his stomach, flexing as he teases himself, his own light touches mixed with your strokes brings goosebumps over his skin. “Feels, so good.” He groans, eyes watching your hand under the curtain.

 Encouraged, you bring your other hand up and massage lightly at his balls. They’re hairless, the only hair he has is the small trimmed patch above the base of his cock. He’s well kept and has good hygiene. That alone was attractive to you, stranger or not.

 When you palm his balls, his legs spread as far as they can with his black cargo pants still around his calves, his big black stomper boots keeping them from being shed all the way. “Fuck,” He moans deep and loud for you. One of his hands comes down past the curtain and reaches for you before he quickly pulls it back. You think you saw a flash of ink on it, but you can’t be too sure, mind kind of fuzzy with poorly hidden arousal. The opposite hand comes into view, and your mouth parts in awe as he covers your own hand with his. It’s so much bigger than yours, completely enveloping it as he strokes himself off, using you in a way. Then again the whole arrangement was you both using each other. 

 “You’re mouth- put your mouth on it,” He sighs, pleasure just dripping from his lips. His cock is rock hard in both your hands, and you can tell he’s getting close.

 You hesitate. “Will… will you be able to see me?”

 Jeongguk comes out of his desire induced high a little bit and realizes what he said. He wants it, fuck does he want your mouth, but he probably should have asked. “No, no. I’ll lower the curtain a bit more if you want, and you don’t have to swallow. You don’t even have to suck it if you don’t want- like I know we have a thing going on but I would never like- force you I-“

 He’s rambling a tad so you cut him off. “I want to, I think,” You whisper, taking in his intimidating size again, “I just- if I can’t know who you are, you can’t know who I am.” You blush feeling a little childish.

 Jeongguk keeps the fact that he already knows what you look like and more or less who you are, at least on a surface level, to himself as he moves the curtain to the next lower notch, the bar resting just above his pelvis now. He can’t really see much of you at all anymore. “That’s fair, yeah, just-“ With your confirmation that you do in fact want to suck him off, he can’t keep the lustful neediness out of his voice, “Please.”

 You take a deep breath as you wrap both of your hands around his cock, the tip still poking out the top. Tentatively you lick at his frenulum and the sound that comes from behind the curtain is obscene. His hips twitch and everything. You want to hear his noises, all of them, so you do it again. You flick your tongue fast over the most sensitive underpart of the head, before placing wet sucking kisses to the same area, almost making out with the tip of his cock.

 “Oh my god-“ His body is pulled taut, and his hands are gripping the chair that he’s sitting in. “Fuck that’s- I love that.” He says, head dropping back, mouth open in a silent moan. 

 You moan against the tip of his cock, not able to hold yourself back anymore. Wrapping your lips around it, you take the head all the way into your wet, hot mouth, and suck. You lap up all the precum that leaked out, and point your tongue to play with the slit. The man behind the curtain is loud for you, letting you know just how good you’re making him feel. You get so lost in it that you don’t register him raising the curtain bar just enough for him to slip his hand past and push you off.

 “S-sorry,” He says, panting, “I was about to cum.”

 You make a small sound of confusion. “That’s okay, I can swallow- If you want me to.”

 Jeongguk shakes his head behind the curtain. “No, I- I wanna watch… see your hands stroke me off.” His request is quiet but his cock pulses in your hand, needy and hot. Already begging for release, despite you not being at it for that long.

 Wordlessly, you start stroking again, gathering the spit that’s on his tip to make the slide easier. It doesn’t take much time at all before his thighs are flexing and you can see the lower part of his abs tensing. 

 “Close,” He whispers.

 Jeongguk watches as your tiny hands fly up and down his cock, grip tight just like he showed you. He’s doing his best to not fuck up into your hands, wanting to just rely on you and your movements, but it’s hard. Small eager little thrusts of his hips show you how ruined he is. And it’s just a handjob. He knows. If he was present enough he would probably be embarrassed by how angry and red his cock is, swollen and hot in your palm. And he’s just so wet, leaking all over the place making the strokes of your hand loud in the room. 

 He watches as you hunch over some, to where he can see everything below your neck, and your free hand comes up to your shirt. He sees you struggle a little bit as do your best to get the collar down under your bra, with only one hand before squeezing at your tits. “Do you want to cum on them?” You whisper.

 “Fuck, please.” He whines high pitch and needy, all reservations out the window. 

 You hum, and work your arm faster over his cock, the rapid movements making your tits jiggle. “Do it, cum for me… cum all over my tits.”

 You can’t see him, but Jeongguk’s face is lewd. Pleasure so apparent on his features, it almost looks painful. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth open, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes are wet and glassy, so overwhelmed by finally getting help after so long of cumming by himself. He’s chanting soft, pornographic yeah’s and yes’s until his whole body curls in on itself, you can see the way his legs tremble as he moans, “Fuck, I’m cumming.”

 He forces himself to keep his eyes somewhat open, lidded and heavy with arousal, as he shoots all over your chest. You’re moaning with him behind the curtain as you work him through his orgasm, despite no physical pleasure being given to you, and that makes another small shot of cum dribble from his spent cock. You lean forward, careful of your identity, and wipe the leftover milky substance on your already soiled skin and black bra. You slap the slowly softening cock on them for good measure and Jeongguk groans.

 You keep playing with his cock, not sure if he’s the type to like it or the kind that wants you off right after he finishes, but he winces and reaches his hand under after not too long, stopping you.

 “Please,” He whines.

 His voice is fucked out, and your pussy aches, needy and wet in your panties. “Oh, sorry…”

 He laughs lightly. “No, no. Don’t say sorry… You’re like- so good.” Jeongguk sighs to himself out of your view. He’s leaning back in the chair, while running a hand through his sweaty hair. Little tremors of pleasure are still coursing through him, when he closes his eyes, blissed out, dazed and relaxed. Finally, after months of being pent up. “So, so good.” He murmurs softly, distractedly. 

 His hand that reached under the bar to grab yours to stop you, is lazily rubbing over the back of your hand, hold light and subconscious against his thigh. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it and you blush, shyly pulling your hand away. He doesn’t show any sign of even noticing and you both settle into a soft quiet, only your breaths sounding in the room.

 “Um.” You say eloquently.

 “Fuck sorry.” Jeongguk says, scooting the chair back to put his now soft cock away. He rolls his eyes to himself. Way to get stuck in the afterglow by himself with his flaccid cock in some girls face. “Let me get you a towel.”

 “Should I put the blindfold back on?” You ask.

 “Uh- Yeah.” He says stilted. This is weird. You just made him cum so hard he almost knocked out, and now he’s making you cover your eyes so you don’t figure out who he is. 

 You hear the hesitation in the man’s voice and assure him that it’s okay, while grabbing the blindfold you tucked into the waistband of your leggings. You knew how it went, you signed the papers. Patiently you wait until you hear him coming back and sense a soft moist towel being shoved under the bar. You blindly grab it with a soft, “Thanks.”

 “I’ll go wait in the bathroom so you can- I don’t know…? Get ready to go I guess.” You hear his heavy boots retreat to the bathroom, that’s located on his side of the curtain, assuring that he wouldn’t be seeing you on his way.

 With the blindfold off, you go about cleaning yourself. Your knees crack when you stand up after being sat on them for so long. Wincing, you run a hand through your long hair and walk over to the table where you left your bag. You leave the used rag in its place and you shoulder the purse. About to make your way to the door, you pause.

 “I’m uh- leaving?” You yell unsure.

 “Okay,” He yells back through the door. “Did you- did they- your- did they give you the-“ He stutters, not sure how to ask if you got paid.

 The wad of cash in your purse is heavy. Figuratively and literally. “Yeah, they did.” 

 “Okay… Good. I’ll um see you next time?” He sounds hesitant and shy. 

 You laugh. “Yeah I guess so.” And with that, you make your way out of the hotel, thinking that he sounds a whole lot less entitled and cocky than he did when you first got there.

~~~

hiii guysss! thanks for reading this lil drabble! This is kind of like a teaser for a longer fic i have on the back burner (let me know if you like the concept and want me to continue!) but i wanted to post something because i havent for a few weeks bc i have been soo busy with school pls i want to cry 🥲 i should be doing maths as i post this lmao. ANYWAY! thanks again for reading, if u liked it, pls like, comment, reblog, or even send an ask! love talking to u guys n feedback is always lovely <3

[moon-lixie]

"Were you this touch deprived?" The amusement could be easily missed in between the calm of your voice that threatened to melt under his fingertips.

"Yes," he answered immediately, no time for thinking needed, "when it comes to you I'm always touch deprived, I can never get enough of you."

word count: 1.970k

genre: fluff, Hyunjin x gn reader.

song: Wrong About Forever - Jeff Bernat

Every great waltz has its spins that make you feel like you're flying as the music pushes you further, Hyunjin wasn't a stranger to this concept, nor was he ignorant to the part in which the two people dancing move apart, stretching their arms as far apart as physically possible while their hands stay clasped together.

He, more than anybody, knew what it was to dance, to give yourself to music and get lost quicker than he could even realise.

What he wasn't familiar with were the matters of the heart, at that he had always been clumsy and hesitant, comparing love to a dance.

That's exactly why he could never understand when you walked away; his mind couldn't wrap itself around the concept of you leaving for good, in his heart there was always hope for a last dance.

Your face was carved into his memory, he could draw your every feature down on paper as easily as he could dance with his eyes closed.

Loving you wasn't a rational decision, it was an impulse, something he had grown to adore despite the difficulties it brought along.

The music filling the room suddenly faded, leaving behind the thrumming of his heart reverberating in his eardrums.

He had to admit there was always a bitter taste when that moment arrived, his body not being able to push any further and the music coming to an end.

If it was his decision then he would spend every second of his life doing the things that he loved, without the need of a break, without knowing what an ending meant.

But wishful thinking only ended up hurting his heart, bruising it carelessly as if he wasn't the type to hope on behalf of the entire world.

With a loud exhale he allowed himself to relax, shoulders loosening and eyes opening slowly, as if rushing through the process would be a mistake.

The first thing he saw was his reflection, the rolled sleeves of his shirt, hair clamped together on the front of his face because of his effort, lips parted and chasing an extra breath.

His surroundings were one of those places that gave comfort due to the long time it had been the background of his happiness, his passion for what he did had been sprawled all across the room.

Dragging his feet across the wooden floor, he scrambled to gather his things, barely remembering to grab his phone that had been discarded on the couch when he arrived if it hadn't been for the light buzzing sound coming from it.

The device loomed like a threat over his heart, having the ability to mend everything or put an end to one of those things he loved with an inimaginable fervor.

An unseen message had been sent in blue, waiting impatiently despite not being the first one sent between the both of you.

You had contacted him first; after two weeks of radio silence you had sent four words his way, typical of you.

'Can I call you?' It was unknown to him how long he had spent staring at the dark screen, forcing his eyes to trace the eleven characters that shaped your unorthodox way of asking for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for what? That he no longer knew, perhaps this time you had gotten scared of how ever so well you two worked together and that's why you had decided to walk away, or maybe there was a chance you had just gotten tired of him, again.

The game the both of you played didn't feel like the typical love he saw portrayed in movies but he couldn't find it in him to care, after all, dancing around you had never bothered him in the slightest.

With trembling fingers he had typed an answer, one word, three letters, a simple affirmation.

He tried to be quick, direct and concise; searching the deepest corners of his mind for the answer that could please you the most and immediately regretting the dry response.

But what had been done already wasn't something that should trouble his mind, even if it came to you, the person he craved to have by his side the most.

So, he had abandoned the mobile as soon as he stepped foot in the dance studio, leaving it screen against the couch in hopes that would soothe his anxious heart if only for long enough to enjoy his dancing.

Now that it buzzed with the call that could be the one he couldn't help but walk cautiously forward and take deep breaths before picking up.

"You're done with dance practice, right?" If he had ever wanted to get high on something, it was your voice, along with every single detail about you.

His lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Oh, so you do remember my number?"

A dry chuckle resonated on the line, forcing his mind to picture the scowl twisting the features of your beautiful face, portraying the guilt you never owned up to in front of him.

"Are you free?" Of course you would dodge his comment, but yet again, he couldn't bring himself to care, simply humming in affirmation.

"Okay, then see you in a bit."

Dumbfounded, an amused laugh found its way out of his lips. "Should I know what you mean by that?"

The harmless exasperation painted itself across your every word as you answered. "Do I really need to spell it out for you, Hwang?"

He was inexperienced when it came to love, very much so, but he was an expert when it came to you, always knowing what you meant, what you wanted, the things you needed.

Walking in the direction to your apartment he answered, "I'm afraid yes, I can't know what you mean if you don't explain it, now can I?"

You laughed annoyed, staying in silence for a moment; he couldn't have pushed things far enough yet, he could never, because you happened to love him just as much as he loved you.

"I miss you, okay? Happy now?"

"Very," he said, lips curling in a lovesick grin that shielded him even from the way you abruptly ended the call.

No matter how much you tried to walk away from him, suddenly cutting yourself from his life, you always came back, always stayed in the tiniest of details around him.

Perhaps that had been his mistake, to accept you even with that quirk of getting cold feet, because if only he had stopped it at once then it wouldn't have become a habit, a necessary routine.

But to love is to get tangled so awfully that you can't find your way out, only further falling into the mess of affection and longing.

The two of you just had your special way of working and tackling things, for instance, you hadn't talked to him for half a month and still your spare key remained under the pot of his favourite flower of yours.

Victory grin plastered on, he reached for the metal piece, opening the door of your apartment as if it were his very own home.

Alerted by his steps at the entrance you came to greet him, arms crossed over your chest as if to keep a final barrier between you and the man that owned your heart.

"I missed you too." Was the very first thing he said once he found your eyes staring right at his; it made you smile and he felt accomplished.

"Of course you did." His words melted you in an instant, making you move closer to him and take his hand in yours. "You always do."

And how could he not? How could he bring himself not to miss someone like you? Someone whose mere presence was intoxicating, seeping inside his muscles and veins, putting his being at ease.

Gently, he allowed the pads of his fingers to trace the outline of your nose, your lips, your chin, before leaning in towards you.

A firm hand against his chest stopped him on his track, causing a question to paint his face with confusion.

"You're all sweaty and you stink." You scrunched your nose adorably, as if actually bothered by his smell. "Go take a shower."

"But I want to kiss you first." A pout made his lips stand out, well aware that it sometimes worked wonders with convincing you.

"Nope, no kisses while you're all smelly." And just like that the both of you were back to normal, not caring to drag things for longer than they should with explanations or apologies that fell into deaf ears.

Against your petition he moved forward and embraced you in his arms, suddenly set on stone in making you squeal in complaint.

Moments later dragging you towards the bathroom despite the verbal refusal that didn't match with your eager steps trailing behind him.

Leaving his things forgotten on the entrance along with whatever fear he had harbored in his heart about this time being the time you would leave his side for good, he closed the bathroom door and kissed you.

Your lips felt unfairly soft against his, warm as a blanket that shielded people from every possible unfavorable outcome life could have prepared for them.

Sure hands moving to clasp on the hem of your shirt, slowly moving it upwards the further he got lost into the kiss.

Piece by piece he undressed the both of you until you were down to heart and soul, truths lying bare for eyes to pry and discover the biggest vulnerability in them.

Knowing the place as well enough as his own home, he turned around to set the water into the perfect temperature for the both of you, never cold.

Then he led you like you needed to be held, careful and attentive, eyes never leaving yours in a new attempt to learn every detail embedded in your pupils.

He turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and hugging you close until there was no space in between, his lips finding the way to your shoulder, pressing soft kisses meant to fix any remnants of doubt.

"Were you this touch deprived?" The amusement could be easily missed in between the calm of your voice that threatened to melt under his fingertips.

"Yes," he answered immediately, no time for thinking needed, "when it comes to you I'm always touch deprived, I can never get enough of you."

He couldn't be more honest even if he was asked to testify in court and make a pledge that allowed him to say nothing but the absolute truth, because he loved you with an intensity that sometimes could be mistaken as meek due to it's soft and innocent nature.

Hyunjin loved you the way someone loves something unobtainable, innocent and patiently, willing to wait entire lifetimes for stars to align and give him the pleasure of being in your presence.

Your hands moved to rest atop his where they were clasped together against your bare torso, thumbs escaping to rub soothing circles into your skin.

Trailing kisses up your neck he allowed himself to hope that every one of his touches reverberated with warmth all the way to your heart in the same fashion that yours did to him.

For you he would learn how to love properly, he would even understand to let go if that was what you truly wanted at some point in the future.

"I love you." The words felt like dripping honey as they slipped in between his lips for the very first time.

"I love you too," you answered, not even leaving time for him to panic at the sudden frankness with which his deepest sentiment had been revealed.

For a love like yours, he would always wait, always fight to make things better.

[persephone-plasmids]

Trying

A Danse and Nora fic

[Part 1]

[Read on AO3]

Danse woke up before the sun, his chest heavy with the memories of the night before. Nora had kissed him. But she’d also been drunk, so it hadn’t counted.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from reliving the moment in his mind over and over again. He’d hardly slept as he wondered what was worse: Nora remembering the kiss and regretting it, or forgetting about it and the two of them never addressing it again. He wasn’t sure what he could even hope for if she did remember. She’d never reciprocate his feelings. And he couldn’t fault her for that. He was a Synth. An abomination.

Danse scowled up at the ceiling before rolling out of bed, pulling his boots on, and leaving the partially destroyed house in Sanctuary where he now stayed. The settlement had turned into a place for all of Nora’s strays to reside; himself included.

Fog hung heavily in the early morning air as Danse began his normal jog around the perimeter of the settlement. He’d run up the rocky hills to make sure no Raiders had taken up residence overnight then splash through the river a few times to cool himself down before making the jog up the hill to the entrance of Vault 111.

Today, the sight of the large metal vault entrance only made his stomach turn. It reminded him of his interaction with Nora the day before. She’d been grieving the loss of her husband. She’d gotten drunk. And she’d kissed him.

Had he taken advantage of her compromised state? He tried to assure himself that he hadn’t. He’d pushed her away. He’d been the one to stop things before they went further. But he also couldn’t deny that he’d kissed her back. That he’d enjoyed kissing her back. And he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t spent the entire rest of the evening replaying the kiss in extreme detail, imagining what it could have been like if it had gone further.

Danse shook his head, ashamed at his own thoughts as he jogged back down the hill to Sanctuary.

The sun was beginning to melt away the heavy fog and by the time Danse had showered and donned his Brotherhood jumpsuit for the day, the haze was nothing but a distant memory.

There’s no avoiding it forever. I’ve got to go check on Nora, Danse thought to himself as he exited his home and stepped out into the streets of Sanctuary. Settlers were just starting to make their way to their assigned tasks for the day. Some held rifles to guard the perimeter while others grabbed gardening tools. Danse rolled his eyes as Hancock stumbled through the streets with a dazed smile on his face.

“Just getting in, Hancock?” Danse asked, the disapproval heavy in his voice.

“It’s my duty as mayor of Goodneighbor to check on my citizens every now and then,” Hancock replied, the lazy smile still on his scarred features.

“Funny how it’s only the patrons in The Third Rail you seem to check on,” Danse answered.

He hadn’t intended on harassing the Ghoul today. In all honesty, he was trying to be better. Mostly for Nora’s sake, but also because of his own revelation that he wasn’t as purely human as he’d always thought. Danse hated being a hypocrite. But purging his deeply ingrained prejudices from his mind was proving much more difficult than he wanted to admit.

“It’s not my fault I know how to have a good time, Danse,” Hancock said. “If you ever want to loosen the leash Maxson put on you, you’re welcome to join us.”

Danse shook his head at the Ghoul but didn’t respond. He knew he wouldn’t have anything kind to say. Instead, he made his way to Nora’s house, ignoring the stinging reminder from Hancock that he was no longer a member of the Brotherhood.

Standing in front of the door to Nora’s home, Danse squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and knocked. His body told him he needed to leave immediately, because whether or not she remembered the kiss, this interaction would be painful. Seeing her would remind him just how incredible it felt to kiss her… and that he couldn’t do it again. But he didn’t run. He stayed right where he was.

His heart hammered in his chest as the door knob turned, but it wasn’t Nora who greeted him. Instead, Deacon stood in the doorway wearing Nora’s old flowery apron over his usual T-shirt and jeans, raising his ginger eyebrows behind his sunglasses.

“Morning sunshine,” the spy said with a grin.

“Deacon?” Danse asked, his confusion slowly turning to anger as it always seemed to. He needed to work on that. “What are you doing in Nora’s house this early?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, soldier?” Deacon asked. “But a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Danse set his jaw firmly as he stared at the man in front of him. He was already calculating how much physical damage it would do if he punched Deacon right then and there. The spy would live. But Nora would never forgive Danse. So he refrained.

“Oh man, I can see all those little Brotherhood cogs turning in your brain. It would be adorable if it wasn’t so sad,” Deacon said with a laugh. “At ease, soldier. I was totally kidding. Just wanted to get a rise out of you. I didn’t realize it would be quite so effective.”

Danse could hear the laughter in Deacon’s voice, but it was muted by the sound of his own blood rushing through his body.

He definitely needed to work on his anger management skills.

“Where is Nora?” Danse asked simply, refusing to acknowledge just how close he’d been to getting into a physical altercation with Deacon.

Danse was usually close to getting into a fight with Deacon, but the idea that the spy had slept with Nora was definitely the thing that would have pushed him over the edge… had it been true.

“I feel like out of the two of us, you’re the one who should know she headed over to the Prydwyn before dawn,” Deacon answered, turning around and heading back into Nora’s kitchen without another look in Danse’s direction.

The Paladin followed the spy and perched on one of the barstools at the counter.

Deacon, still wearing the flowery apron, was stirring mirelurk eggs in a frying pan.

“Nora went to the Prydwyn?” Danse asked, his mind trying to play catch up. “Why?”

“Personally, I don’t think she needs to keep things friendly with the Brotherhood of Bigots anymore now that The Institute is destroyed, but she said something about an open line of communication between the factions and blah, blah, blah.” Deacon shook his head. “Maxson said he wanted to meet with her about something or other. Probably wants to start a fun petition forbidding Ghouls from speaking or something.”

“Maxson asked for her?” Danse repeated. This gave him pause.

There was a time when Danse had worshipped Maxson. He’d thought the man could do no wrong. That was, of course, until Maxson had wanted him killed for being a Synth. Danse could understand the difficult position Maxson had been placed in, but after their years of friendship, he still had a hard time with just how quickly the Elder had turned on him.

He also saw the way Maxson looked at Nora when Danse had still been allowed aboard the Prydwyn. The Elder was young and Nora was beautiful. It only made sense that he’d look at her the way he did. But Danse didn’t like it, even though he was fairly certain the only reason he was still alive was because Nora had been the one to convince Maxson to spare him. Danse wasn’t sure anyone else could have swayed the Elder the way she did.

“Do I sense a love triangle? Because you know I love some juicy gossip,” Deacon said, grinning over at the Paladin and plopping some eggs onto a plate for him.

“That’s inappropriate, civilian,” Danse said, staring at the eggs in front of him and wondering why on earth Deacon would ever make him food. They hated each other.

“Hate to break it to you, tin can, but you’re a civilian now too,” Deacon said, taking a seat beside Danse with his own plate of eggs.

“You and I are not the same,” Danse emphasized, taking a bite out of the eggs. They were surprisingly good.

“You’re completely right,” Deacon agreed, though Danse could tell from his tone that he wasn’t going to like what came next. “I’ve been able to let go of my bigoted ways, while you still look at Hancock and Valentine like they’re Mirelurk scat on your boot.”

“That’s…” Danse began, but he didn’t know what to really say. Deacon wasn’t wrong. Danse wasn’t doing a great job of changing his deeply ingrained beliefs.

“Admitting you have a problem is the first step, champ,” Deacon said, with a soft pat on Danse’s shoulder.

It would have been a kind gesture, if the spy hadn’t immediately snorted from trying to hold back his laughter.

“I’m… trying,” Danse managed to say, even if it felt like injecting a Stimpack directly into his temple to utter the words.

Deacon glanced over at Danse for a moment, but it was hard for the Paladin to read his expression behind the sunglasses. He had to remind himself that this was probably the reason the spy always wore them.

“A good first step would be to actually spend some time with the people you hate,” Deacon offered, being surprisingly helpful. “You might find that you actually have some fun with Hancock. Plus, you and Valentine are a bit more alike than you might think. He’s a giant stick in the mud too.”

Danse huffed under his breath and simply said, “Noted,” before taking another bite of eggs.

The two men chewed in silence for a moment before the front door opened and Nora strode in wearing the all-black Brotherhood of Steel jumpsuit reserved for high-ranking officials.

Danse’s eyes involuntarily roamed over just how perfectly the jumpsuit fit her curves, though he immediately hated himself for the very visceral reaction the image gave him.

“Deacon Marie Jones! What are you doing in my apron?” Nora asked dramatically, walking up behind the spy and wrapping her arms around him in a familiar embrace.

This did nothing to lessen Danse’s animosity towards the spy.

“Your middle name is Marie?” Danse asked.

“I just make up names for him,” Nora replied. “Since he won’t tell anyone his real name.”

Deacon leaned backward into Nora’s embrace as she held him tightly before finally releasing him. Danse hated how casual their physical contact was. She wasn’t like that with the Paladin.

“I thought we agreed the apron looks better on me,” Deacon said.

“Everything looks better on you, Deacon,” Nora agreed with a laugh, walking over to the frying pan and scooping a few eggs for herself. “I bet even this ridiculous black jumpsuit would look better on you.”

Danse refrained from pointing out how false that statement was.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone look so good in a jumpsuit before.

“Give yourself some credit, Charmer,” Deacon said, his voice as smooth as ever. “There are only so many people who can pull off a dog collar.”

“It’s not a dog collar,” Danse mumbled, finding himself irrationally annoyed by the comment.

Nora’s lips quirked up into a grin as she set her plate down and walked over to Danse. The Paladin swiveled in his barstool to face her but he didn’t anticipate just how close she’d get to him. Nora walked right up to Danse, positioning herself between his knees as she grinned down at him.

Danse swallowed hard as his dark eyes met hers. She took one finger and hooked it under the metal ring at the neck of Danse’s Brotherhood uniform and gave it a soft tug. She didn’t manage to pull him closer from his sitting position, but it did cause her to take another step closer to him, now standing squarely between his thighs.

“What exactly would you call it then, Paladin?” Nora asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

Danse felt like his heart might actually beat out of his chest as he stared up at her. She still had a firm grasp on the clasp at his neck and he worried she’d be able to visibly see the nervous way he swallowed.

“It’s… It’s an attachment for the Power Armor,” he managed to choke out.

He hated that Deacon was here to witness just how easily Nora could set him off balance.

“I guess your big brown puppy dog eyes just make the term ‘dog collar’ feel more fitting,” Nora answered with a smirk.

He could feel the heat of her hips against his thighs but tried with every fiber of his being to ignore it. Their close proximity was only making it more difficult for him to focus.

Thankfully, Nora released her grasp on the metal ring and stepped back around the counter to retrieve her eggs. “Thanks for the breakfast, Deeks,” Nora said casually, as if she hadn’t just upended Danse’s entire world.

“Just paying off my debt to society,” Deacon said, finishing his own plate off and rinsing it in the sink. “I should have never suggested that game of strip poker.”

Danse’s eyes widened at this comment but Nora just shook her head with a laugh.

“He bet me that I couldn’t convince a Diamond City guard to give me their uniform.”

“I didn’t take into account that she wouldn’t use stealth to get what she wanted,” Deacon said with a scowl. “I still think it’s cheating if you use your feminine wiles.”

“You’re just mad that you have to make me breakfast every Tuesday for a month,” Nora said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Deacon shook his head and grinned. “Well I’m off to go start some rumors around Diamond City that Piper is actually a Ghoul. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll need it,” Nora replied before the spy disappeared, leaving her and Danse alone.

Danse took a deep breath, wondering if he wanted to come right out and ask Nora if she remembered what had happened the night before, or if it would be better to just ignore it.

He decided on the coward’s way out.

“What did Maxson want?” Danse asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Ugh, that man,” Nora began, exasperation heavy in her voice. “He wanted to try to convince me to pledge my exclusive loyalty to the Brotherhood again. But I told him, for the millionth time, I’m not going to abandon The Railroad or The Minutemen. There’s no reason we can’t all play nice.”

“I’m sure he loved that,” Danse answered, a genuine smile now playing on his lips.

“He threw a bit of a tantrum,” Nora agreed. “Luckily no one was around to see it. He had me meet him in his private quarters this time.”

Danse raised an eyebrow, still trying to pretend like he wasn’t incredibly interested in this particular point. “Oh?”

“I think he thought it might intimidate me if we were alone,” Nora laughed. “He poured me a drink, stood in front of his Brotherhood of Steel flag, and tried to look super intimidating.”

“And?”

“And it didn’t work,” Nora said, giving Danse one of the smiles that made her eyes crinkle in the corners while his heart melted into a puddle inside of him. “My affection isn’t that easily swayed.”

“Of course,” Danse responded simply.

He could feel Nora’s eyes on him as he looked back down at his now empty plate. He was running out of reasons to be in her kitchen but he wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

“How are you feeling?” Danse began cautiously. “Do you have a headache from that bourbon last night?”

That was casual, right? That was something a totally normal friend would say whether or not they’d kissed the night before… wasn’t it?

“I had a bit of a headache this morning,” Nora began. She was pushing the eggs around on her plate with her fork but not taking a bite. Her eyes were no longer on Danse; now she seemed laser focused on the food in front of her. “I told you I wasn’t that drunk.”

Danse’s cheeks instantly flushed at her words.

She remembered.

She remembered and she really was lucid enough to know that she was kissing him.

What did that mean? Did he ask her about it? Did he ask if she regretted it or did he even dare to hope that she actually somehow felt something for him other than friendship or fondness?

“You can hold your liquor well,” was all the Paladin said, also staring intently at his own plate.

If anyone had walked by the scene in the kitchen, they’d think the two were Synths whose recall codes had been read to them.

The silence between them pressed on for a few moments before Nora softly cleared her throat.

“Listen, Danse… I’m sorry about what happened. You were totally right that I wasn’t thinking straight and… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Danse felt his entire chest tighten at her words.

She regretted it. She wished it hadn’t happened. He’d made her uncomfortable.

And now that he knew she remembered everything, he felt even worse for kissing her back. What could she possibly think of him now? That he was just like the rest of the Wastelanders; ready to take advantage of an inebriated woman at the drop of a hat?

What did he say to make this better?

“I’m… I shouldn’t have… engaged,” he said quietly. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Danse had never been good with things like emotions. Synth or not, talking about his feelings wasn’t something he ever thought he’d be comfortable with.

Danse dared a glance up at Nora who was still looking down at her plate. She was frowning with something like disappointment in her eyes.

“I should probably get changed out of this jumpsuit,” she said after another moment of awkward silence. “Preston has a place nearby that he wants me to check out to set up a possible settlement.”

“Of course,” Danse responded, a bit too quickly. “I’ve got some work to do on my power armor.”

Nora nodded as Danse stood up and made his way towards the door.

Before he touched the handle, he heard Nora’s voice, soft and hesitant.

“Would you… want to come with me?”

[cacoetheswriting]

chasing a feeling - spencer reid

Warnings: angsty, a lot of cursing, smut (nothing too explicit; just a pretty heated make-out session) Word Count: 4.3k Summary: You and the young doctor used to date. Now, years later, you were back in Spencer’s life - much to his dismay. A/N: it kinda takes a bit to get into so i’m thinking maybe of making a part two cause there was soo much more i wanted to write?? // PART TWO IS UP NOW, link at the bottom

- 

“There has to be some mistake.” Spencer exclaimed, an irritated expression now outlined his facial features. “It’s not a mistake.” Emily stated calmly as she sat back down in her chair, eyeing the doctor in front of her with caution almost as if she was waiting for him to blow. But he didn't say anything. 

Instead, he was looking down at this hands. Rather at the brown folder she handed him just minutes ago. A folder containing information about the BAU’s new team member. Your information.

He reread your name over and over again. Praying this wasn't actually happening. Hoping this was a dream, a hallucination. 

“Spencer, the decision has been made. She starts today.” His eyes darted up instantly to meet Emily’s. His jaw locked. Yes, he was angry. Of course he was angry; as she suspected he would be once the news broke. And in his own mind, he had every right to be. 

“I hope you don’t think that because we know each other I’ll be the one showing her around.” He spat flinging the folder onto the desk in front of him. It landed with a soft thud. Emily sighed slightly taken aback by his attitude. She’s never seen him act this way. This wasn’t the Spencer Reid she’s worked with all these years. 

“I’ve already asked JJ to take Y/N under her wing.” Spencer flinched at the sound of your name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. No. He shook the thought away. To him, at this moment in time, you were anything but. Evil incarnate. Better. 

There was a brief moment of silence. 

“Spencer, if you want to talk-” “I’m fine.” He interrupted and hurried out of the room. Emily watched him cross the bullpen and disappear behind the glass door. She let out a deep breath while glancing at the clock on her wall. You should be arriving any minute now. 

The elevator door opened with a quiet ‘ding’. Taking a deep breath you stepped out where Emily was waiting with a smile on her face. She immediately reached out and shook your hand. “Hi again Y/N, welcome to the BAU.” You squeezed her hand gently - hoping she wouldn't sense your nervousness. “It’s definitely good to be here. Thank you for this opportunity.” 

Emily let your hand fall. Still smiling she said; “No need to thank me. Your professional reputation precedes you, I would be a fool not to hire you.” "Still, it’s an honour.” 

You followed her through the bullpen. She showed you your desk, pointed to where her office is: “I’ll have JJ give you a more detailed tour later on but right now we have a case.”. You nodded in understanding. “Yes, I packed a go-back when you rang me this morning. It’s in my car.” “Perfect.” 

Emily led you to a conference room where you were greeted by the rest of the team. There wasn’t time for deep introductions, just quick shakes off the hand in between a ‘nice to meet you’ or ‘good to have you on the team’.  Although one person was missing from the welcome wagon. And you weren't the only one to notice. 

“Where’s Reid?” Emily asked glancing around the table. She motioned for you to sit down in one of the empty chairs, which you did. “Spence said he’ll meet us on the jet.” It was the petite blonde who spoke, JJ. “Apparently he had something he needed to do before we left.” Emily nodded. She glanced at you with an apologetic look before turning her attention to the screen at the top of the room.

“Let’s get started.” 

As the team discussed details of the case, you stayed silent. You should be paying attention. Your first case with the BAU, your first day. Concentrate. Yet instead your gaze still wondered to the empty seat. 

You shouldn't be surprised that he didn't want to be here. A part of you was relieved, however, another part of you was quite hurt. You thought maybe after all these years he wouldn't have cared anymore. Clearly you were wrong. He’s not worth it. And he wasn't. So you shook the weird feeling away and turned your attention to the screen. 

Later on the jet, you didn't want to cause a scene once the young doctor finally showed himself therefore you settled into a seat as far away from the rest of the group as possible. You looked out the window, onto the grey tarmac and waited. What you were waiting for exactly you had no idea. If he didn't want to see you earlier, he definitely wouldn't want to see you now. Except now he had no choice.

“Hey, are you okay?” Your thoughts were interrupted and you looked up to find Luke smiling down at you. “First day jitters.” You lied smoothly. He grinned. “Definitely know how that feels. You’re doing great so far.” You smiled as he plopped herself down on the empty armchair in-front of you. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked back outside. “So a little birdie told me you knew Reid before his time at the BAU. What was he like?” Luke inquired, making conversation. Your palms began to sweat. How would you even begin to tell him what Spencer was like? Did you even remember correctly? Or was the image you had imbedded in your brain a figment of your imagination; what you wanted to remember.

“Uhm. He was shy.” You smiled to yourself at the thought of the young doctor always tugging nervously at the hem of his shirt. “Well he’s definitely far from that now.” Luke chuckled and added: “Yeah he’s eh, he’s been through a lot in the last year alone. This job squeezes the shyness right out of you.” 

And like a ghost from your past he appeared. Almost as if he heard you talking about him. Spencer Reid. He looked different than you remembered. More grown up, older, tired. Handsome. You sat up straight in your seat; your eyes glued to the boy you were in love with all those years ago. The brown haired doctor stood at the top of the plane, a stern look on his face. He scanned the plane looking for a place to sit. That’s when his eyes landed on you. 

The air caught in your throat as your eyes locked. Should you wave? No. Smile? Definitely not. Your mind raced a million miles per second wondering what the appropriate thing to do would be while Spencer simply turned away; his attention no longer on you. 

“Do you want to go say hello?” Luke asked following your gaze. “Maybe later.” You replied, focused Spencer. From the corner of your eye you could see him nod. He wanted to say something else but he held himself back. “If you don’t mind I’m gonna catch up on some sleep.” He made himself comfortable and without waiting for you to respond dozed off.  

Spencer sensed you still looking at him. Why were you looking at him? He wanted nothing more than to scream, tell you to stop, but he was a professional. Spencer Reid was a professional and he wasn't going to let you ruin- ruin- ruin what exactly? He shook the thought away. You were bound to ruin something. 

He knew deep down he was being irrational. It has been years since the two of you last saw each other. A lot has happened since then, a lot has changed. Spencer wondered if you changed. He found himself secretly hoping you didn't; you were perfect. No, no. He gritted his teeth causing his jaw to clench. 

He glanced in the direction of your seat - why, he did not know. Curiosity maybe. Or did he just want to look at you again. But your seat was empty. 

Instead you were stood by the coffee machine, trying to figure out how the pesky thing worked. He couldn't help but snicker under his breath amused. If he was to state the obvious physically you hadn't aged a day. Your hair was different, longer and a slightly lighter colour. He wondered if it still smelled the same. Coconut. Damn it. How could you still have such an effect on him? 

In that moment he decided to bite the bullet. Better to get it over with and this was his chance. Suddenly feeling nervous Spencer took a step forward and began to approach you. 

“Hi there.” The words came out croaky. No response. You didn't even look up from the machine. Spencer cleared his throat. “You need to turn it off and back on. It’s pretty old so often it needs an additional nudge before it starts working.” 

He pressed the button restarting the coffeemaker. Spencer relaxed beside you; he was so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating to say the least. The blood in your veins was pumping faster than it has been all day. 

And as if his sudden closeness wasn't bad enough, he reached over to grab the mug you were gripping tightly in your hands. His fingers brushed against yours in the process sending an immense tingle down your spine. He froze for a moment and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. 

Eventually, you let out a breath you didn't even realise you were holding. “I thought maybe you would pretend I don't exist.” Spencer huffed at your comment rolling his eyes. The machine began to purr and a black liquid slowly poured into your cup. “I can't ignore you forever. We work together now.”

That last sentence came out harsh. You noticed immediately and your gaze darted up to meet his. The look in his eyes was one you haven't seen before. Dark, hateful even. “If you have something to say just say it. If not, leave me alone.” You hissed as you stared up at him. The coffee machine beeped. 

You began to reach for your beverage but Spencer grabbed you by the arm, intercepting, and pulled you in closer to him. His grip strong. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden movement. 

“Let me go.” You hissed as you stared back up at him. His clutch on your arm tightened - it was starting to become uncomfortable but you weren't going to let him know that. You only hoped the rest of the team couldn't sense the rising tension and weren't paying attention to this cumbersome reunion. 

“Why are you here? Why are you back Y/N?” Spencer finally asked in an ominous tone. “I’m here to work.” You replied confidently. He scoffed pressing your arm harder into his chest. You could feel his anger spike. His body heat radiating against you due to the proximity of your stance. 

“What, Los Angeles wasn't big enough for your ego?” He jeered. “Gee Spencer, I didn't think you were keeping tabs on me. Careful or I might start to think you still care.” You sneered in a mocking tone. It was the wrong thing to say, you knew that. You knew it would only get him angrier. And he did. 

His blood boiled like lava. You could see the hatred smouldering across his facial features, eyes narrowed. He wanted to explode. If it wasn't for where the two of you currently stood he would allowed for the darkness to swallow him whole. You sensed it. He was aware you sensed it. Even after all this time no-one knew him better than you. Perhaps that’s why he was so bitter. 

“Quite frankly Y/N, I don't give a fuck about you.” He spat letting your arm fall. 

The words stung. Your face fell and for a split second his demeanour changed. A glimmer of sorrow in his eyes. His lips parted almost as if to say something - apologise maybe. But the moment passed quickly and within seconds he was cold again. “Enjoy your coffee.” He muttered before turning on his heel and walking away. 

A lone tear dripped slowly down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before anyone noticed and grabbed your drink, sulking back in your seat. 

Remainder of the flight was uneventful. The team gathered together once again shortly before landing for a quick briefing. Together you went through any last minute developments in the case. This time you participated, not letting Spencer’s tense poise distract you. Once the meeting concluded Emily divided you into teams of two - thankfully she paired you with JJ meaning you got to avoid Spencer the rest of that afternoon.

You didn't see him again until much later that evening at the local station. He stood by the bulletin board, deep in thought working up the geographical profile. 

JJ asked if you wanted a coffee, you said yes. Spencer’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice but he didn't look away from the map. JJ turned to Spencer with the same question, he simply shook his head and she disappeared leaving you with the young doctor.

Neither of you said a word. He focused on his own work as you reached for the box of the first victims journals you gathered with JJ. Picking up the first one you began to read through it - pacing. Spencer watched you now. Just like he used to all those years ago. He always found it odd that you liked reading while walking around. A small smile circled his lips at the familiarity of it all, but as soon as you glanced up at him the smile faded. 

Soon enough JJ returned with the coffees. You thanked her as she sat down, grabbing a journal from the box. Her presence eased the rising tension you could slowly feel forming. 

“Does ‘blind pig’ mean something other than the animal?” JJ asked taking a sip of her hot beverage. “Yes-” You and Spencer replied simultaneously. You locked eyes for an awkward moment. Spencer cleared his throat, averting his ogling, as you turned to JJ. “A blind pig can also stand for a place where alcoholic drinks are served illegally.” 

“The first victim references that phrase in almost every entry.” JJ said, showing you one of the poorly scribbled annotations. “I’ll ask one of the officers if they know of any restaurants or bars that partake in such activities.” You said placing your coffee and the journal you were reading on the table. “Good luck. They weren't very forthcoming earlier according to Emily.” She smiled encouragingly before turning her attention back to the notebook in her hand. 

Spencer on the other hand found himself following you with his gaze. He watched as you approached one of the policemen. Your hips swaying elegantly from side to side. He watched how you flicked your hair over your shoulder almost in a flirtatious way, a warm full smile appearing on your face. He watched as you laughed at something the officer said, tilting your neck slightly backwards and placing your hand gently on his bicep.

An unfamiliar feeling stirred inside of him. Was it jealousy? No. Spencer Reid wasn't jealous because you were casually seducing some crook of a man. His fists clenched at his side, fingernails digging deep into the palms of his own hands. 

Oblivious to the brown haired doctor staring you down, you continued talking with the officer. “I wouldn't normally ask this, but honestly I’m perplexed and I was hoping you would be able to help me.” You fluttered your eyelashes feeling sick to your stomach that flirting was the only way to get some information. But it worked. Soon enough you were strutting back to where JJ and Spencer where now joined by the rest of your team - a printout of all the places serving alcohol illegally in one hand and the officers number jotted on a napkin in the other. 

“Nice going.” JJ grinned as you handed her the list. “That poor guy didn't stand a chance.” Rossi affirmed with a quiet laugh. Matt and Luke chuckled together soon joined by Emily. The only person that wasn't amused by your theatrics was Spencer. “Yes, whoring yourself out is really a display of skill.” 

The group immediately fell silent. “Reid.” Emily’s tone of voice was far from pleasant as she glared at the young doctor. 

“Spence-” JJ began but you cut her off. “You’d think with an IQ of 187 you would know by now how not to be a fucking prick doctor Reid.” You hissed and tossed the napkin, which was now curled into a tight ball, right at his head - missing only because he ducked. You excused yourself calmly and briskly rushed out of there. 

The cold breeze hit your skin the second you stepped outside. Your break down followed shortly after. Hiding behind one of the pillars to the side of the building you burst into loud sobs - once the floodgates opened they were hard to control. A sweep of tears escaped your eyes, trailing down your face like a waterfall. It was hard to breathe. Your fingers desperately fidgeted with the buttons of your shirt hastily undoing the top few. You placed your hand on your chest, heart thumping. 

Through your heavy cries you didn't hear the door swing open behind. “Y/N?” A familiar voice called out, the cause of your current waterworks.

It didn't take long for him to find you - hunched behind a pillar, one hand on your chest while the other held your head. Cautiously, he ambled towards you leaving only a step between his body and your own. He reached out and gently took your hand away from your face; it was slightly wet from all the tears you caught in it. You didn't look at him so he closed the space between you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head up. 

“Congratulations, I guess you got what you wanted.” You whimpered, the look in your eyes completely broken. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly confused. “This isn't what I wanted.” He whispered. “Really? Could've fooled me.” You muttered in between your sobs, trying to free yourself from his strong grip. 

He didn’t say anything. He didn't know what to say. Tell you he regretted that sentence the second it escaped his lips? You wouldn't believe him. Apologise? Yes, he should probably apologise. But as he opened his mouth nothing came out. He looked at you with a sense of hopelessness, this was not what he wanted to happen. “You have to believe me Y/N. I didn't mean-” “Forget it Spencer, I don't want to hear it.” You cried attracting unwanted attention from passersby. 

“I knew this would be difficult, seeing you after all this time and having to work together-” You took a deep breath. “-but I thought we’d at least be mature about it!” Your sadness dissolved into anger. You mustered enough strength to free yourself from his embrace, slightly pushing him back. That was enough for Spencer to get angry too - it was unwarranted yes, but he couldn't help it. Fight fire with fire. 

“God Y/N, you are so entitled!” He hissed taking a step forward, once again closing the space between you. “You only look out for yourself!” He jabbed his finger into you; just under your collarbone. “You are the one that left!” Jab. “You are the one that chose to come back!” Jab. “You are the one that fucking ruins everything!” Jab. Jab. Jab. 

“And you are the one acting like a dick about it!” You groaned aggravated. He gritted his teeth - you stroke a nerve. A sense of satisfaction overcame you; so you continued. “The only one with a problem here is you!” It was your turn to poke him and you made sure to do it hard. He didn't like that. He grabbed your finger, pulling it away from himself. His hand then slid until your wrist was wrapped tightly in his hand. 

He had all the power. And he knew it too. 

The two of you continued yelling insults at each other. You called him “irrational”, “immature”, and “a complete asshole” - amongst other curses. He resorted to bringing up your troubled heated past whilst calling you “crazy” and “a bitch”. Tension rose with every spoken sentence - your faces mere inches away from each other. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as he jeered how much he hated you. The look in his eyes was infuriation, but there was something else. Arousal? Impossible. 

“Do you know why you hate me so much?” You provoked. “Because I don’t stroke your ego. Because all those years ago I decided to follow my own path rather than stay and entertain you like everyone else in your pathetic life!” His jaw clenched. “And I think you're feeling insecure now that I’m back and working with this team because I know things-” “Shut up.” He whispered but you ignored him. “-I know things that could ruin you.” “SHUT UP!”

The sound of his roar caused a couple of people to stop in their path and look towards the two of you. The door flung open and an officer stepped outside to check whether everything was okay, but Spencer was quick to dismiss him. 

Seconds passed in which Spencer composed himself. Taking a step back he let go of your wrist and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked around, in search of what to say next. You however celebrated this small victory. A smirk appeared on your face and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied laugh.

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna head back inside.” You said coyly. He didn't protest. He didn't even look at you. The smirk on your face faded. The anger began to dissipate. “For what it’s worth if I knew things would be this hostile between us, I wouldn't have taken the job.” 

With that being said, you were about to walk around the pillar when he grabbed you again. Your back pressed to the cold brick and Spencer’s assailed against you. No escape. He leaned down, tilting his head slightly, and you felt your body give way to his unspoken suggestion.

His mouth slanted over yours - all options to deny him taken away. His hands flew to your face cupping it hastily as his fingers buried in your hair, tangling themselves in the thickness. Your arms slid around his waist, trailing upwards, and feeling the hard muscles of his back. Both your heads rotated back and forth to vary pressure. His mouth was possessive and it didn't take long for his tongue to breach your lips. 

All of the emotions that had been churning rose to the surface and exploded all at once - your heart felt like it was on a rampage. The kiss now deeper than ever. Your tongues dancing together, each trying to assert dominance. Spencer bit down on your bottom lip vigorously causing a velvety moan to escape your mouth. The smooth sound of pleasure only fuelled the doctor more as he pushed himself into you more and you felt his member twitch in his pants.  

After what seemed like forever, he pulled away. The pause was brief allowing you to only to catch a quick breath, and in the space of a heartbeat Spencer lowered his mouth back down to yours with immense passion and desire. Your legs felt like rubber as you leaned into him completely. He explored your mouth as his hands nonchalantly made their way from your face down to your collar. 

Now that he’s tasted your lips, after all this time apart, he found himself only wanting more. 

Spencer grazed you roughly with his nails before binding one hand steadily around your neck - giving it a soft squeeze. The other hand continued down your chest, his fingers making their way inside your half-opened blouse. Your whole body was on fire. As was his. 

Slowly, he broke the kiss. Both of you breathless. A hungry look spread across his facial features; now you definitely saw arousal in his eyes. He let his hands fall down by his sides, but his body weight was still pressed into you. He tried to organise his thoughts. Which was impossible to do with you standing right there - your eyes wide open, hair ruffled, mouth slightly parted swollen and red from the kiss. Fuckable. 

He moved away from you because he knew if he didn't his lips would once again find yours. He watched you collect yourself. Fix your blouse, wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers, adjust your skirt, flatten your hair. None of that helped however; he still wanted to devour you. 

When you finally met his gaze there was a hint of regret in your eyes. All the dirty thoughts and scenarios he had piling in his brain disappeared momentarily because Spencer knew that look all too well - there was an invisible line you had drawn and the two of you crossed it. 

“Tell Emily she’ll have my resignation letter in the morning.” Your voice a bare whisper. 

He opened his mouth to say something, to tell you he was sorry for everything. Sorry for the arguments, the name calling, for ruining your first day, sorry for the kiss. He wanted to take your hand, and tell you that there was a way the two of you could work together after all. That you didn't need to do this. That he was glad you were back. 

But no words came out. His throat locked up. He stood frozen like a deer in headlights and simply followed you with his gaze as you hailed a taxi and disappeared into the night. 

-

| PART TWO | PART THREE |

masterlist

[writingtoforgetreality]

Springing Forward (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

Request: hey there cathy! i’m a new follower and i was wondering if i might request a zemo x reader where it’s maybe pre ultron and reader’s family own a flower shop in sokovia and somehow through that they meet? idk i know it’s super random but i’ve got spring fever 😂 (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Your family owned a little flower shop. You assisted every now & then. One day, your parents had departed for a while, a man entered the store & changed your life forever.

Words: 3,255

Warnings: fluff, soft!Zemo, it is so sweet, I promise, pretty sure I didn't use any pronouns :), no TFATWS spoilers (you’re welcome), (Y/F/F) = your favorite flowers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Spring was your favorite season of the year. Flowers started blossoming. Nature turned colorful again. Lush hues decorated the outsides. Your family owned a petite shop in the central of downtown in Sokovia. The store was your whole pride & joy. The façade was stacked with uneven, light grey cobblestones. The sign on top of the glass door was illuminated with a warm & congenial light. While you did not have that many guests, your regular customers supported you continuously. Helping out your parents had never bothered you. It was a family business. Your assistance was appreciated & the local citizens enjoyed whenever you served them.

Plants & flowers were your hobby. Somehow, they grew when you tended to them. You managed to flourish almost dead ones. That was one of your skills. Your handling with the people who visited your shop left a good impression. The earnings were not a fortune but you made do. The smiles of your pleased customers were enough to balance that out. Not even once had you been bad-tempered. If something bothered you, then you suppressed that negativity for the sake of your reputation. After all, it never had anything to do with the shop itself.

The mornings were your favorites. When the rest of the town was still fast asleep & the birds slowly awakened with rhythmical chirps. The slight breeze that touched your skin tenderly. The goosebumps erupting where your clothes did not cover you. Yet, you abandoned the thought of pulling over a jacket. As the hours ticked by, the sun would amplify, leaving you content with your tenuous t-shirt. Your parents had left town for relaxation. The shop would be solely yours for the upcoming days. Your little apartment was not far away from your workplace. The short walks back & forth were forever welcomed. During your lunch break, if your job & the weather allowed you that, you wandered through the narrow backstreets. Every corner was familiar but the small details that frequently transformed always fascinated you anew.

Years ago, you loathed leaving the country you were born in to start a new life here in Sokovia. Your parents were incomprehensibly overstrained with your whim that seemed to worsen daily. Friends were abandoned in the process of moving. The beginning in a foreign area was strenuous. Not only did it take a toll on you but on your parents as well. The loan enabled your family’s dream of owning their own shop. Independence was an indescribable feeling. Ever since, your fondness of this place had been increasing steadily. And while you would not exactly say that you had friends here, you definitely made a few acquaintances. Friendships would follow sooner or later. Besides, your work consumed almost all of your time. You lived to work & you worked to live. It was as simple as that. Your lifestyle functioned like that. It was exhausting, sometimes excessive, but you handled it just fine. Still, every now & then, you found yourself craving something. What that particular something was had yet to be discovered.

The delightful ringing of the bell whenever someone entered your shop reached your ears. It was early in the morning. Usually, the first costumers rolled in closer to lunch time. Not that you were complaining. Your body spun around, your apron getting stuck on an infinitesimal bump standing out of your oak wooden counter. Silent curses left your lips, too quiet for the stranger to hear. The struggles were noticeable & a presence approached you. You had yet to glance at the person but your delicate hands were busy with fiddling the fabric.

“May I?” a soft, accented voice spoke up & startled you slightly. Your eyes flickered up & locked with warm, chocolate brown ones. For a few moments, time stopped. Your heartbeat sped up. Something about this simple interaction let sparks burst. And when his lips turned into a gentle smile, you were gone for. Never before had something similar occurred. Especially not that quickly. It was obvious that you were staring a little too intensively. But his eyes did not leave yours, lingering just for a fraction longer. He had asked you a question. As an owner, you completely failed your task. You neither welcomed him in nor did you engage in a conversation. Coughing to hide the embarrassment, you averted your gaze & began.

“Welcome. Um, I’d really appreciate your help, thank you.” your voice wavered but it did not crack. His hands, covered by leather gloves, stretched out & he initiated the process of freeing you. The thick material that hid his fingers was offbeat. Average people tended to avoid gloves during this season. It was warm enough without them. Then again, this stranger did not strike you as average. This brief meeting was proof enough.

“There you go.” he commented after successfully liberating you. “As good as new.” he radiated a feeling that made you believe he was a well-spoken man. You were unsure how exactly you ended up with that conclusion.

“Thank you.” both of your hands reached to the hem of your apron, glancing down at it, checking for possible damages. But, as he alleged, it was perfectly fine. Another moment of silence went by, then you slowly returned to reality. You occupied your according place behind the counter. Back straightened & regained composure. “Apologies for my unprofessional behavior. I will ensure you a discount for your purchase. Right…what did you need?” your rambling was mortifying. Hiding your emotions was not necessarily one of your skilled characteristics.

“Please, do not bother with special treatments.” one of his hands raised in front of his chest, signaling that he was being serious. It did not change that, deep down, you felt poorly. “I was actually looking for…” a chuckle interrupted his speech. “I am uncultured regarding this area, truthfully. If you offer me your assistance now then the two of us are even.” the following wink made you all giddy. What was it about him?

“Okay, well…” your previous painstakingness was pushed down. “What is the occasion?” it was always surprising to gain new customers. His accent betrayed him a little. And what a sweet betrayal it was.

“A decisive meeting with a higher up. An efficient first impression would be convenient.” he enlightened you, choosing his words carefully. Well-spoken he was but that was manifested from the very beginning.

“Any preferred colors, types?” one of your eyebrows perked up. Moving your body around the counter & in the middle of the modest shop, you reacted unwillingly after brushing past his frame. Your shoulder barely grazing but enough to trigger uneven breaths.

“How does a common purchase for such an event look like?” you peered over your shoulder, a bit of amusement written over your features. While he appeared like a literate man, ten times wiser than you, this was a field you surpassed with ease. A quick glimpse on your forearm, where a barely functioning watch swathed your wrist caressingly, confirmed your previous assumption. There was still a load of time left until the shop’s actual occupation. You could bestow him your aggregate attention. The unnamed stranger absorbed your every word of your explanation. Your eyes sparkled with a newly witnessed enthusiasm. The fact that he did not heckle your talk during the entirety of your tour through the shop brought you desired satisfaction. He was the first person to display genuine interest in your employment.

“God, please excuse me trailing off. I did not intend to bore you.” all of a sudden, your energetic self switched to an insecure one.

“I can assure you that you did not bore me. Not for one second.” his affirming smile calmed your incertitude. Together, the two of you picked up various individual flowers. A compiled bouquet would portray him in the best light. Your hands moved on their own. You could still hold a conversation with the man on the other end of the wooden table. It separated the back of the shop from the front, main area. His fascination for you expanded by every further move you performed. Lastly, you wrapped the ends of the stems with a fine, almost sheer paper. To secure everything & hold it in place, you braided a ribbon that matched the color of the textile.

“All done.” you showcased the finished product to him, a small, gratified smile adorning your face. “What do you think?” the question was almost shy, it needed reassurance. Which made him ponder why you were so doubtful of yourself & your abilities. To him, you prepared the most gorgeous bouquet he had ever caught a sight of.

“Plainly astonishing.” his praise warmed you from deep within. “You really do have an unbelievable talent.” you thanked him quietly, eyes flickering down to avoid his intense stare. By no means was it displeasing or inadvertent. It was sweet & thoughtful. You wanted to extend his stay, fearing that this would be a one-time interaction. But you could not remain on this high you were currently experiencing. The sound of the entrance bell fetched you back to the present. Another customer that needed attendance. Your togetherness approached an undesirable end. Controlled fingers punched a well-rehearsed pattern into the cash register. The blue numbers flashed for the man in the coat to see. Gloves & a fur-coat during spring? He was the only living soul you had ever met that made it work.

A wallet was pulled out of his pocket. Fine fingers retrieved the money. A beat went by. Two. Almost like he wanted to savor the little time you two had left. But your duties called. He would not use up any more of your duration. Maybe he had already overstepped & his appearance was no longer welcomed or appropriate. The notes were handed over. Your movements like a slow motion scene in your favorite movie. The scenery grasping your every bit of attentiveness. It was something you wanted to remember. To think back & hope to perceive that same feeling you experienced during the first time. You reached for it. The moment his clothed hand touched your smooth skin stilled the world once again. The gentle brush of his thumb over the back of your hand could have been missed if it was not for your body to be this alerted.

“Thank you for your exceedingly helpful guidance, …?” his eyes looked up at you sheepishly. You knew what he was intending. It was a silent question for your name. And you were more than eager to comply.

“(Y/N).” it was short, adequate. His smirk held a deeper meaning. What it was exactly, you could not identify.

“Why, thank you, (Y/N).” his emphasis was on your name. The way it rolled from his tongue was mesmerizing. You found yourself craving to hear that sound constantly. But you were not even sure if it was naïve to hope for his return. He would exit any second. Leaving behind a pit only he could fill. Your train of thought converted into utter despair. He was your customer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“You never told me your name.” you called out when he was almost out of the door. One last time, he glanced over his shoulder. The fur tickling his chin a bit. One last time, you studied the way his lips lifted. One last time, you believed.

“Helmut.” he replied. “It was nice meeting you.” his hand pushed the door open. His body moved through the doorway. As fast as he entered your life, he left just as quickly.

“You too.” you whispered but he was no longer here to listen to your words. Your face fell, the previous spark in your eyes completely gone. The person in front of you waited until you paid all of your attention to them. It took a lot of effort but you managed in the end. The only difference was that they were not him. Nobody would ever be him again. But he vanished. Like dust in the wind, blowing away his remaining scent that had filled your nostrils.

Was it possible to crave a person you barely knew? Your subconscious sprinkled salt in your wound. Brains could be ridiculous. Nonsense. The teasing of your dreams, in the dark of the calm night, was echoing. Ricocheting off the walls that kept your emotions buried inside. Similar to being the main character in a horror film, desperately looking for a way out but being trapped no matter what. Why were you reacting like that? Why did Helmut waltz into your shop without any restrictions, turning your entire life, your entire world, upside down? He was one mysterious man. Uncommon, remarkable. Someone who swept you off your feet by simply being. One charming smile & you were gone for. The first words he directed to you & he gained you wholly. The worst part of it all was that he had no idea what he did to you. He had no idea that your thoughts were solely revolving around him ever since his entrance to the store. His entrance to your heart. What was happening to you? You had to move on, that much was clear. Truth was, you abominated that thought. Your focus had to shift. Back to your work, back to your task.

The following day started off with a bad mood. Certainly, the upcoming hours would be draining. You could not allow the shop’s closure. Not even for a day. Your family’s existence depended on it. Everything was the same. Chirping birds, a cool breeze, a short walk. The peacefulness before customers visited. Yet, everything was not the same at all. Because there was this nagging feeling inside of you & you knew you could not get rid of it. The ringing sound caught you off guard. It was unusual. Only once had someone entered this early in the mornings. And this one time was yesterday. Your shock was visible. Helmut’s presence was unexpected but definitely not unsought.

“Helmut?” your voice was an octave higher. The excitement emitting from you.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” he strutted closer to you. The same gloves, the same coat. The same offbeat & arcane man.

“What brings you here today?” your head tilted, trying to find a possible explanation for his return. “Wait. Was the bouquet improper?” immediately, thousands of dark, negative thoughts were rushing through you. You did your very best with the flower’s arrangement. Never before had you spent this much time & effort.

“No, not at all.” one of his hands raised & rested on your shoulder, squeezing the tiniest bit. You had to take a deep breath in order to stay calm. As calm as it was possible with him around. “The exact opposite. Which is why I am here again. Could you assist me once more?”

“Of course. What were you envisioning? Who are the flowers for?” your elbows propped onto the countertop, gazing lovingly into his orange shining brown eyes.

“I meant to ask for your favorites. You strike me as one with fantastic taste.” Helmut certainly had a way with words. No matter what he said, you found yourself captivated by him. The topic could be dreary but he made it sound fascinating.

“My favorites? It’s tough to choose one when there are so many stunning options.” you quieted down for a few seconds to really contemplate your answer. It was flattering that he asked for your opinion. “If you make me pick then I’d say…hmm, probably (Y/F/F).”

“Perfect. I would like to purchase a bouquet then.” right away, you got to work. Helmut watched your skilled hands. His enthusiasm only died down when he saw the frown forming on your face. “What is it?”

“Huh?” you were in your thoughts. His question was almost missed by you.

“That frown. Where is it coming from?” only Helmut could be so straight forward about such a small detail he had noticed. Would you tell him the truth? You should not. He did not need to know that your mood turned sour because he bought more flowers. This time, he did not let you know about the purpose of them. Another dinner with a higher up? Highly unlikely. But not entirely impossible. You assumed he would gift them to a woman. Hence why you sidestepped his question masterly.

“I believe it happens when I’m focused on my task.” you hoped your smile was reassuring but Helmut saw right through you. In the end, he did not comment on it. There was a building tension between you two. This time around, there were no lingering touches. He left the shop once again & it was clear that this was it. Helmut would not come back again. And maybe it was for the better. Your heart was too fragile to be crushed by his bare hands. It was not fair to blame basically a stranger. He had a life you had no insight on. But the aching could not be ignored.

Just as you wanted to lock the door to your shop for your lunch break, a voice reached your ears, followed by hurried footsteps. Turning around to look for the cause of it, you were shocked for a second time today. It was Helmut. The same bouquet he had purchased earlier clasped in one of his hands. The other one balanced two cups of coffee. As much as you wanted to withhold your smile, it was inevitable to repress.

“(Y/N)!” he was slightly out of breath. “I expected you were gone already.”

“Good that your expectation was wrong.” the warmth that filled your body was endearing.

“Here.” he handed you the flowers & your eyebrows furrowed. “For you.” he explained further when you made no move to reach for them.

“Why?” you inquired but grabbed the bouquet from him anyway. His posture relaxed & the grip on the cups was more secure.

“May I invite you on a walk through the town?” he suggested shyly. “I brought you coffee. I do hope it is after your liking?” the last part was a question. A sign that he doubted himself the slightest.

“I’m sure it’ll be delightful.” you eased his mind immediately. The cup was placed in your other hand. “Could you wait here for a minute? I should put them in a vase.” he motioned for you to go ahead. Your heart was doing backflips. It all fell into place now. You pieced everything together. He asked for your favorite flowers earlier today because he intended to give them to you. His plan was to spend your lunch break together. Helmut really went out of his way for you. His efforts were mellow. Returning outside once again, he patiently stood in the same spot. The softness of his features were rare on a man like him. You had met people similar to him but he was different. Helmut was that type of many who bought you flowers & made time to spend more with you.

You knew the town by heart. So did Helmut. But exploring the beautiful spots together felt like you were espying every corner, every building, for the very first time. Conversation flowed easily. Laughter was shared, loving glances were exchanged. He gave you a feeling of belonging. Like you were supposed to be right here from the very beginning. It felt right. With a man like him on your side, your life quality would finally improve. Helmut would be the one to quench your cravings. And you would not want it any other way.

Published (05/04/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @takacsgram, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @bibliophilewednesday, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @sebastian-stan-d-on-my-throat, @thewinterrbucky, @loveinthemadness, @princess-yuna (thanks for your support <3)

[chatonne-rousse]

Turtle-y Awesome

@sketchy-panda sent me the following ask last week:

...and this is the story that sprang from that ask. You never know what you're going to get when you share a headcanon with me! 😉

Read it on Ao3 here.

"...et puit, quand il fut bien certain que personne ne pouvait le voir, Benjamin alluma sa veilleuse."

Adrien turns the last worn page and sets the book beside his knee on Hugo's bed.

"What do you think, kitten? Benjamin was turtle-y being a scaredy-cat, wasn't he?"

Hugo giggles, eyes bright. "He's not a cat, Papa, he's a turtle!"

Adrien nods sagely at his son. "Right you are," he says, patting the book's cover. "If this book tortoise anything, it's that Benjamin is definitely a turtle."

The number of turtle puns in the world is finite, and Hugo has heard his dad tell them all repeatedly, but he still laughs every time. The sound is music to Adrien's ears. He grins as he leans down to tuck the duvet around Hugo's shoulders and lifts his son's dark fringe to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Can we read another story, Papa? I'm not even tired."

Hugo's big green eyes scrunch shut as he yawns widely.

"Mmhmm. I can tell. You know what?" Adrien grabs another stuffed turtle from the bookcase and tucks it in beside the Carapace plushie already cradled in Hugo's arms. "Monsieur Vert looks very tired. He was almost sleeping over there! Maybe if you hold him really, really gently, that will help him fall asleep. I'm sure Carapace is tuckered out after a long day of superheroing, too."

"He is," Hugo says, nodding. He strokes his little hand up and over Monsieur Vert's soft shell. "I'll help them, Papa."

Adrien smiles even as his chest squeezes with emotion. "I know you will, my kind-hearted kitten." He can't resist pressing another kiss to Hugo's forehead and delights in receiving a loud, smacking kiss to his own cheek in return.

The turtle lamp on the nightstand is switched off and the Carapace nightlight beside the bookshelf activates, dim light glowing green through the plastic.

"Bonne nuit, ma petite tortue."

He watches his son cuddle his turtle and Carapace close as the closing door slowly eclipses the bed in shadow from the hallway light. Leaving the door open a crack, Adrien listens for a moment as Hugo gets comfortable in his bed.

He smiles as he pads down the hall toward Emma's room to join his wife for another round of goodnight kisses for their precious kittens.

*****

"Kitty, this is getting ridiculous. How is that the only thing he wants for his birthday?" Marinette shakes her head, but her grin betrays her lack of any real annoyance.

Adrien rubs his face and groans. "I know. Believe me, I know. Can you imagine if Nino knew?"

That surprises her. "You haven't told him? I told Alya ages ago when he said Carapace was his favorite." She thinks for a moment. "I don't think I've shared the, um...depth of the obsession, though."

He stares at her, deadpan, before they both laugh.

"Turtles I could handle, Mari. They're cute. They're green." He bats his eyes at her and she swats his arm playfully. "But Carapace? Carapace? When Chat Noir is right there? I don't get it."

"Awww, Chaton. Is my kitty jealous?"

"Of course not," he says, pouting, though he can't keep up the ruse and his smile breaks through. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Nino made a wonderful hero, and is the perfect holder for Wayzz, and you know it."

She scooches closer to him on the sofa and rubs his back gently. His eyes close for just a moment before opening them to find his wife gazing at him with what might just be his favorite look in her eyes - a teasing glint, a touch of heat, and an endless well of love. Everything goes fuzzy momentarily, but he catches her next words clearly.

"Besides, my favorite hero will always be Chat Noir. Always."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

She nods.

Her eyes go wide when he hauls her petite frame from the sofa beside him and settles her across his lap. She laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his lips.

"What a coincidence, My Lady," he murmurs into the whisper of space between them, "because my favorite hero--" He pauses, kissing her again, "is also Chat Noir."

There's a beat of silence and then she's laughing, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her giggles. His arms tighten around her shaking shoulders as he laughs along with her, swept away by the sweet sound he will always love. There's no joy in the world quite like making his wife laugh.

"You know I'm kidding, Bug," he finally whispers into her hair when their laughter subsides. "Emma and I share a favorite hero. The greatest of all. Prettiest, too. Oh, wow, is she ever beautiful. And strong. And smart."

"Rena Rouge?" Marinette asks cheekily, her nose still pressed to his neck.

"Nooooo," he croons, tickling her sides until she laughs again. "It's Ladybug, jumping above, Lady magique et lady chance!"

"Kitty, no!" she begs through her giggles, "Don't get that in my head!"

"Too late!"

He silences the last of her laughter when he captures her lips with his, twin sighs mingling in the late-night quiet of the living room.

With forever in his arms and their shared future asleep down the hall, Adrien simply loses himself in this blissful moment, forgetting that their baby will turn five next weekend, that the passage of time is as inevitable as the dichotomy of creation and destruction. Wrapped up in his wife, time seems to stop altogether. Marinette - her love, her care, their unshakeable bond - is eternal.

But of course, the clock still ticks. And when they part a few minutes later, after one last kiss and a nuzzle of her nose against his, he still has to ask.

"So we're really throwing Hugo a Carapace-themed birthday party?"

She nods. "Yep."

"And we're buying him the new Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker, complete with Carapace action figure, power-ups, costume changes, a Turtle-mobile sports car that Nino never had, and four different colored shields that he also never had?"

"There's a jet, too, for some reason. But...yep."

Adrien nods slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "He's going to love it."

"Oh, he is," she affirms, her grin matching her husband's. "And so is Uncle Nino."

He snorts a laugh and pulls her close once more, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"This'll be hilarious."

Marinette smiles against his shoulder.

"Yep."

*****

Everything is green.

Their normally colorful apartment seems to have transformed into an emerald dreamscape that doubles as a turtle sanctuary.

Everything is green, and there are turtles everywhere.

Sea turtles, tortoises, turtles of all kinds - including a certain turtle-themed superhero - adorn every surface. Adrien had been surprised by the amount of Carapace party merchandise he was able to find online. He's used to the numerous Carapace items in Hugo's bedroom, pieces he's added to his collection one by one over the past year or so. But this, his best friend's face dangling from streamers, emblazoned on little party hats, is just a little weird.

He's proud, though. A little jealous, a lot amused, and very, very proud. No desperately sad, pitifully lonely teenage boy has ever found a better friend than Nino Lahiffe. He's the brother of his heart, the mellow to his anxious, the staunch protector of their little group of best friends and hero teammates. Adrien has to admit that Hugo has great taste in favorite superheroes.

Someday he'll discover that his idol is also his Uncle Nino, but today is not that day. Today, the magic and wonder still shines in his son's eyes, and it's a beautiful thing.

Adrien putters around the kitchen making last-minute preparations to the food and drink selection, making sure there are plenty of cups and plates (all printed with a Carapace action scene, of course) stacked on the island. Oddly, he couldn't find Carapace napkins to go along with the other paper goods, but Marinette had saved the day by snagging a pack of sea turtle patterned napkins that coordinated perfectly in a pinch.

He smiles at the thought of his resourceful bug, his grin widening as he hears her welcome guests at the door. This is followed by a squeal of glee when Hugo and two of his classmates run off to his bedroom to play. Adrien shakes his head, still smiling. He'll have to lure them out in a bit with snacks and the promise of gifts and cake.

It's not like he doesn't already know from several years of experience that children's birthday parties are mostly adults mingling and intermittently making sure the kids don't get into too much mischief as they play together.

He takes the spinach quiche from the oven where it was warming up and sets it on the table with the other food, rebelliously placing a black potholder with a neon green pawprint pattern under the hot ceramic dish.

A towering, tiered tray of green macarons has pride of place on the dining room table, the top half of each cookie painted to look like a turtle's shell in edible glittering gold. They look almost too pretty to eat, and the same goes for the expertly-decorated turtle cake nearby, made by Hugo's grandparents and brought straight from the bakery for his big day.

The vegetable plate is an array of green, from broccoli to peppers to celery. The party has barely begun, but the celery is already running low, thanks to Emma's clandestine snacking in the hours beforehand.

Everything is green, and Hugo loves it. And that's what it's all about, really.

*****

Adrien is on his way back from checking in on the now half dozen kids playing in Hugo's room when he hears Alya's laughter from the entryway. Clearly she's spotted the party decor. He rounds the corner to find Marinette hugging her best friend, Alya's pregnant belly only getting in the way a bit and not stopping her from throwing her arms around Marinette's shoulders.

"Sorry we're late, Mari," she says, then pitches her voice to a stage whisper. "I had to pee. Twice." She leans back from the hug and cradles her bump. "Actually, I'm just going to..." She points down the hall, and Marinette laughs.

"Go for it, Als. We've all been there."

Nino is still crouched by the door, helping his daughter out of her jacket and shoes. He just shakes his head and laughs. She races off to find her "cousins" and Nino stands, kissing Marinette on each cheek and wrapping Adrien in a hug.

Surveying the apartment over Adrien's shoulder, he claps him on the back and says, "I love what you've done with the place. Very inspired design choice."

Adrien rolls his eyes and all three of them laugh.

"Hugo is obsessed with turtles. You have no idea."

"Oh, I think he has some idea, Minou." Marinette smiles at her husband over her shoulder, linking arms with Alya when she joins them again and ushering her into the green-bedecked living room.

He glances sidelong at Nino with a sheepish grin. "This isn't too weird for you, is it? It was all Hugo's idea. He hasn't stopped talking about his 'Carapace Turtle Party' for weeks," Adrien says, air quotes included.

"Nah, mec, it's cool. Kind of flattering." Nino raises an eyebrow and laughs. "What do you think he'll say when you tell him someday?"

Adrien just shakes his head. "Probably ask if you can adopt him and be his dad instead." His smile is teasing but just a touch rueful.

Nino laughs again. "No way, man. Number one, I've already got enough kids. Number two, you're the best dad. They love you like crazy, bro. Seriously."

His chest fills with warmth. Nino is such an incredible friend. And he's right (about the last bit, at least).

"They're incredible, Nino. Being a dad is..." He trails off, unable to find the words.

"I know, dude." He claps Adrien on the shoulder. "They're a pain in the ass, but they make up for it by being totally awesome."

Nino glances around, finally spotting the table full of green food and turtle-themed treats.

"Wait. Bro. Is that a turtle cake?"

*****

"You know," Nino says a few minutes later, washing down a matcha macaron with a swig of turtle punch, "I could get used to this. It would mess with my head, but after a while--" he looks at the cup with his face on it and shrugs, "it's not so strange. Better than having my face plastered on a billboard outside the Galeries Lafayette."

Adrien groans. "Et tu, Brute? Why would you remind me of that?"

"Because I can." Nino takes another bite of macaron and nudges his best friend's shoulder, laughing.

*****

As the kids snack and carry on, Adrien finally decides it's time to let his best friend see the Carapace shrine that is his son's bedroom.

Nino takes in Hugo's completely green, turtle-filled bedroom as Adrien waits with bated breath beside him for his reaction.

It is, as usual, relatively chill.

"Little dude has good taste!"

"Indeed." Wayzz peeks from Nino's collar with a pleased smile on his face. "The turtle has always symbolized wisdom, strength, and longevity." His tiny smile widens. "I'm also partial to the color green."

Nino steps farther into Hugo's room to examine the bookcase. "I...did not know they made this much Carapace merch."

"Believe me, there's more. We have to draw the line somewhere." Adrien closes his eyes and sighs. "Although he does brush his teeth with a Carapace toothbrush."

Nino's laugh starts as a snort and builds when he spots the Carapace wastebasket beside Hugo's bed and the Carapace plushie propped against his pillow. It turns positively raucous when he sees his best friend's face.

"Holy crap, dude," he wheezes. "This is hilarious. You must be so jealous."

"I am not!"

"You totally are."

"Well--" Adrien sputters, "Marinette is, too!"

"Not as much as you are, Kitty!" she calls from the living room.

Adrien throws his hands in the air. Nino doubles over.

"Chat Noir is cool, too," he mutters, petulant.

A still-laughing Nino pats his arm consolingly. "If it makes you feel any better, Chat Noir is my favorite hero...after Rena Rouge."

That actually does make him feel better, but he's not telling Nino that. Instead, he just grins a sly half-smile at his best friend. "Good save, man."

"Hey, I know which side my bread is buttered on, mec. Don't act like you don't."

Adrien is helpless to the smile that spreads across his face.

Nino groans. "You've been married for seven years, dude. Are you ever not going to go all gooey just thinking about Marinette?"

Adrien quirks an eyebrow and glances sidelong at him. Nino nods once and pats Adrien's shoulder.

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it?"

"Yep," Marinette says from the hallway behind them.

Adrien's heart beats faster at the twinkle in her eye. He wonders how much she heard. Probably all of it - she always did have sonic hearing, but motherhood seemed to ramp it up to eleven. Not much escapes his wife.

"Time for cake and presents," she announces. "Nino, you can revel in Hugo's Carapace shrine later."

"And I will, don't you worry," Nino says with a laugh as he turns to head back to the party.

Adrien throws an arm over his best friend's shoulder and smiles brightly at Marinette.

Hugo has merch, but Adrien has a real, live Ladybug who promised eternity to her Chat Noir. He holds his own favorite superhero in his arms every night, and nothing, nothing compares to that.

*****

Surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, the birthday boy sits on the floor with one last gift in front of him. The box is taller than he is when seated, and he has to stand up on his knees to tear the paper off the top. As soon as he can see what's inside, he shouts with glee and jumps to his feet. Overjoyed, he scampers around the coffee table to his parents, first thanking Marinette with a hug and kiss, then getting swept up in Adrien's arms for a bear hug.

The fact that Hugo doesn't push away from him to return to his barely-unwrapped gift is not lost on him, nor is the fact that he abandoned it and thought to thank them first in his excitement.

Sometimes Adrien feels like he's been given so much more than he deserves. Marinette alone is a blessing beyond his imagination, but Emma and Hugo, too? It's too much and he knows it, so he holds them close and relishes every single moment like this one with his little boy hugging him tight and murmuring thanks into his neck.

A few minutes later finds Hugo examining every detail of his new treasure (after Adrien wrangled all the parts out of their plastic-encased prison).

He claps his hands when he sees that this set comes with a bonus Chat Noir action figure in addition to Carapace and his shields of many colors.

"Maman!" he cries, jubilant, holding Chat Noir above his head so she can see. "Look! It has Chat Noir! You love Chat Noir!"

Blushing, Marinette pointedly avoids looking in the direction of the two moms of Hugo's school friends who've stayed for the party but smiles widely at her son. "I do. He's my favorite superhero of all time."

Hugo nods, turning to his dad where he sits beside him on the floor, struggling to snip the tiny plastic anchors holding each piece to the cardboard backing.

"See, Papa? He's Carapace's sidekick."

"Hey!" Adrien says indignantly. He looks up from the mess of cardboard and plastic in his lap as Marinette, Alya, and Nino laugh.

Nino, best bro that he is, chimes in. "Nah, little man, Chat Noir is no one's sidekick. He's way too brave and cool for that." He grins at Hugo and points first to the Carapace action figure on the coffee table and then to Chat Noir in his hand. "They're a team. Best friends and superheroes at the same time. That's why they're so awesome."

Hugo looks at the Chat Noir figure for a long moment. "Wow," he breathes. "Chat Noir is as cool as Carapace." He says it like a revelation that's rocked his entire worldview.

Alya sniffles and Marinette hands her a tissue.

"Okay, but Ladybug is still the coolest," Emma pipes up from Hugo's other side.

All the adults besides Marinette nod. Adrien reaches around Hugo to pat Emma's back.

"You're absolutely correct, kitten."

Marinette blushes again and Alya blows her nose.

Hugo tucks Carapace into the driver's seat of the Turtle-mobile with Chat Noir beside him as his passenger, racing the sports car across the rug toward his friends so they can play with his new toys, too.

Adrien looks from his son to his own best friend, and Nino gives him a thumbs up and a grin.

*****

Later, when the dishes are washed and their living room looks slightly less like a turtle habitat, Adrien sits on the sofa with a cup of tea and watches Hugo play with his new, treasured birthday gifts. The Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker is open, its many accessories strewn around Hugo where he sits cross-legged, Carapace in his left hand and Chat Noir in his right.

"I'll protect you!" "Carapace" cries, Hugo's voice pitched to sound brave and true but still carrying his sweet child's tone.

"Thank you for keeping My Lady safe, Carapace!"

Adrien snorts a surprised laugh into his tea. "Chat Noir" speaks in a husky growl, though Hugo gives him a note of cheery confidence, as though he truly appreciates Carapace's brave deeds, as though Chat Noir can take the decisive cataclysmic swing knowing his beloved partner is safe from harm.

And honestly, Hugo has the right of it. Adrien wonders how his son could possibly know that this exact scene - with slightly different dialogue, of course - played out many times over, years before he was born.

Hugo mimics the sound of an explosion, then an "oof!" as Chat Noir falls to his back but springs up again quickly. Just as Carapace returns to Chat's side with a confident, "What can I do to help save the day, Chat Noir?", Marinette's hands snake around Adrien's shoulders from behind, surprising him.

He sets his mug on a coaster on the end table and wraps his hands around her forearms, pulling her in closer. Leaned over the back of the sofa, she nuzzles his cheek with hers before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I think we pulled off the dream turtle party pretty well, don't you, Chaton?"

"Oh, we turtle-y did."

Adrien delights in the huff of laughter she exhales against his cheek. That might be the most overused pun in the house, but sometimes it still lands just right. They watch Hugo play, matching grins making their cheeks press closer together.

"Looks like that was one shell of a gift, eh?"

He swoons dramatically, his head falling to the back cushion of the sofa so he looks at Marinette upside-down. "My Lady, you know what it does to me when you pun."

"Oh, I do," she says, completely unapologetic, and boops his nose.

He just has to lean up to kiss her because, well, she's so beautiful and he loves her so much and she's right there.

They break apart a moment later when they hear Emma call for Marinette from her bedroom. She plants one last upside-down kiss on his forehead and lets her hands drift slowly across his chest and shoulders as she stands.

She gives him a wry smile. "Duty calls."

"Hmmm," he hums thoughtfully, picking up his tea and taking another sip. "And here I thought her name was Emma."

Marinette groans at him as she walks away, and the sound catches Hugo's attention.

"Papa? Will you play superheroes with me?"

Of course. Always. I will never, ever be too busy for my kittens, he thinks.

"Sure, buddy," he says instead.

Finishing his tea in one big gulp, he slides from the sofa and scampers on hands and knees like a giant cat to where his son is playing. Hugo giggles at his dad's ridiculousness.

Adrien takes stock of the many accessories scattered around the play set and asks, "What are Chat Noir and Carapace up to today?"

Hugo explains the situation, the bad guy's motives, and what the heroes need to do to save Paris from disaster. Adrien listens carefully. Looking up at him with green eyes that match his own, big and wide and crinkled at the corners with his happy smile, Hugo offers the Chat Noir action figure to his dad.

"Will you be Chat Noir, Papa? He's Carapace's best friend in the world and they need to work together to save the day."

Adrien cradles the action figure in one hand and gently pats the pocket where Plagg hides with the other. His kwami presses a paw against his chest in return. Overwhelmed, all he can do is grin at Hugo and try not to cry.

"It would be my greatest honor," he vows grandly, holding up a hand in oath. "I purr-omise to be the best hero I can be. Cat's honor."

Hugo laughs. "You said honor twice."

"So I did. That's because it's very important."

His son nods solemnly, then reaches for Carapace's super jet. He places the hero in the cockpit and flies the jet around his head, making zooming noises.

"Are you ready, Chat Noir? I'm coming to pick you up!"

The jet has only one seat, but that doesn't seem to bother Hugo. Adrien readies the tiny plastic baton in Chat Noir's hand and uses it to vault from his own knee into the imaginary sky over Paris.

"Meow-velous!" he crows, delighted. "This cat is ready to be whiskered away in your very realistic jet! Allons-y, my turtle friend!"

Hugo giggles, Adrien's heart melts, and they set off on a grand adventure together.

[raibebe]

Sugar and Spice

Genre: Fluff? Words: 4.390 Warnings: none for this chapter

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | masterlist

A/N: Sugar and Spice is a series now, I know you all probably wanted more smut but I chose to write a prequel about how Jeno ended up being a sugar baby in the first place.  Since this is going to be a longer story, I wanted to try to do it in chapters instead of writing one giant thing. Later on I will switch the POV but I felt like it was needed to start off with Jeno’s.  Do not worry, there will be smut in later chapters.

Taglist: @yutaalove​, @byunniebaekhyunnie​

Like all the bad decisions Lee Jeno had made in his life, this one started with none other than Lee Donghyuck. The two boys were sitting in the university’s cafeteria where Donghyuck watched Jeno eat the food they had served with a disgusted look on his face. “I don’t understand how you can even swallow that.” “It’s either this or instant ramen again and I am pretty sure my body consists of 60% ramen already,” Jeno whined, trying to wash down what must be the most dry piece of meat he had ever tasted his entire life with some water. “Dude you work like three jobs,” Donghyuck groaned, kicking his friend beneath the table. “Got fired from the library because they caught me sleeping,” Jeno sighed deeply. “You look like you’re ready to pass out right now.” “Hyuck, I am functioning on three hours of sleep and two redbull.” “Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed and Jeno hated it when he used that tone of voice. He didn’t need Donghyuck’s pity. He could do this. He was fine. Well mostly. Apart from the fact that he got an average amount of four hours of sleep, was barely passing his classes and got fired by one of his many part time jobs every few months his life was absolutely peachy. “I’m sure if you talk to your parents again-“ “No,” he cut Donghyuck off, “I won’t come begging at their door. I chose this path for myself and they simply don’t agree Hyuck.” “Your parents suck ass,” his friend sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Pretty sure my parents would throw a party each day for a week straight if I had told them I wanted to become a vet.” “Well mine aren’t,” Jeno sighed and raked a hand through his messy hair. It was getting too long again, his bangs hanging into his eyes. Could he ask Renjun to cut it again? Did he trust the furious Chinese man with something sharp that close to his eyes?

For a while it was quiet between the two friends while Jeno continued to stuff his face with the cafeteria food. He didn’t have much time before he had to go to his shift at a little record store not far from his dorm building. It wasn’t paying the best but the owner of the shop and no issues with him doing his readings there when no customers were around. “You know that we miss you, Jeno. Right?” Donghyuck cut the silence which made Jeno stop mid bite, “We haven’t done anything with all the boys in forever and I am not counting the times we were at the club while you were working and declining the tips we were trying to give you.” “I don’t need nor want your pity money, Hyuck,” Jeno groaned again and shoved the plate with his food away. His appetite had left him. Donghyuck and him had this conversation every other week always with the same outcome: Donghyuck explaining how he was worried about him and Jeno telling him that he was fine (which he most likely wasn’t but he managed). “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make it to our meets ups, I really am,” Jeno tried to explain and Donghyuck’s eyes immediately went soft, “I just- I’m behind on my tuition again and haven’t paid the lease for the dorms for the last moth yet. I really need to take every minute and hour of overtime I can get and my grades aren’t getting any better either. This will all be for nothing if I fail my anatomy class again.” “Jeno,” Donghyuck tried again, “You can’t keep on like this for another three years.” “I have to Hyuck,” Jeno sighed, slouching back into his chair, “I have to.” His body had been screaming at him to stop whatever he was doing for weeks now and to be completely honest, he was aching for a full eight hours of sleep and not the usual four that were just disconnected naps throughout his day.

“I’m going to make a suggestion and I need you to promise me to not be mad at me, alright,” Donghyuck suddenly said, holding out his pinky finger. “Hyuck, I won’t take money from any of you. I don’t want Chenle to pay for my lease again. That was a one-time thing and I told him that I would pay him back,” Jeno immediately argued, shame running through him. He hated constantly being treated to meals and the thought that he had a debt with his younger friend even though the Chinese had told Jeno hundreds of times that he didn’t need to money back. “That’s not what I wanted to suggest. Now promise.” Jeno rolled his eyes before interlocking his pinky with one of his arguably best friends. “Actually this isn’t my idea. But Jaemin and Renjun brought it up last Friday at our movie night.” That alone made Jeno feel bad again. While his friends had been all cuddled up in Chenle’s apartment to watch some movies and eat popcorn while drinking cheap beer, he had been working in a sweaty club with horrible music that made his ears ring. “I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath but Donghyuck didn’t seem to hear him. “But hear me out: Have you ever thought about becoming a sugar baby?” Jeno lost all control over his facial muscles and was pretty sure his brain had just short circuited, his open mouth free real estate for the fruit flies that were all over the cafeteria. “No, no, think about it Jeno,” Donghyuck immediately argued, “I did my research and you can get a monthly allowance for at least a thousand dollar if not more. You’d be able to quit that job at the shady bar.” “Hyuck,” Jeno cut in when his brain had successfully rebooted, “In case you haven’t noticed in all the years we’ve been friends: I’m not gay.” “So what?” “What do you mean so what? I’m not going to prostitute myself for some old man just because I need money,” Jeno hissed between his teeth. “Oh my god Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed, “You’re so 2010. There are plenty of wealthy woman out there looking for some arm candy to pass their time.” “You’re insane Donghyuck.” “Insanely brilliant that is,” his friend grinned, “This is literally the perfect solution for all your problems.” “How is fucking some old hag going to solve any of my problems?” “Oh come on, Jeno,” Donghyuck groaned, “There are plenty of sites that let you choose your preferred partner for this kind of arrangement. And don’t even try to deny that you’re into older girls.” At that Jeno flushed a deep red color. His preference about his partners was basically an open secret in their group of friends that he had confessed after a drunken round of truth or dare some time in highschool when Renjun had asked him why he had rejected the confession of a cute girl a year below them to keep crushing on the substitute teacher they had. Chenle had not let this thing die until Jeno had started to date a girl from Mark’s class and even then the boy had made some cruel comments about their age difference. “Here, Renjun found a site that seems very legit,” Donghyuck brought him back from his memories, scribbling down a link on a piece of paper, “Please just check it out.” “That’s a lot of promises I have to give today,” Jeno mused but took the paper to put it into his pocket. “We’re just trying to look out for you Jeno.” “I know,” he sighed, “And I appreciate that.” “You’re running thin Jeno.” “I know Hyuck!” He said, making his friend flinch at his outburst, “I fucking know, okay. I’m sorry I am making you all worry with how terrible my life currently is. It’s not like I am happy about it but you could really stop bitching about it.” Just when Donghyuck opened his mouth to reply something, Jeno’s eyes shot to the big clock on the wall. “Safe it Hyuck, I need to go to my shift.” With that he got up to hoist his bag that was barely holding together onto his shoulder and basically fled the cafeteria. Donghyuck could bring back his plate, that was the least he could do.  

Once outside, the student quickly plugged in his earphones into his phone and played his favorite playlist on his way to the record store, inwardly scolding himself for being so proud and not leeching off of Jaemin’s spotify anymore when what felt like the third ad in ten minutes interrupted his vibing. At the record store, he quickly unlocked the front door and put on a random record to play over the speakers before he got situated behind the counter to try to revise his notes from today that were unreadable at best. He had fallen asleep at least twice in his morning class and had to be shaken awake by one of his classmates once the lecture was over. Great. So self-study it was.

Over the course of his shift, he was only interrupted twice from reading the chapter in the book that he was pretty sure he should have brought back to the library last week. But since he really didn’t have any money to spare for the fine, he had decided to keep it a little longer until he was at a financially better place which was nowhere near in close sight now that he was fired from his job at said library. Which brought him back to what Donghyuck had said to him. But him becoming a sugar baby? Jeno really couldn’t think of himself in such a position. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking but when he thought of the word sugar baby he thought of beautiful and petite boys like Renjun or maybe even Jaemin but him? Even though he had lost quite some muscle mass since this shitshow had begun, he was still built quiet broad and had more of a masculine, handsome feel than sweet and beautiful. And wasn’t that was sugar mommies would look for? If they wanted a man, they wouldn’t search for a someone younger. Jeno sighed loudly and let his head hit his book. This was a hopeless situation.

But he guessed having a look at the site wouldn’t hurt and so Jeno ended up typing in the address of the sugar baby site into the computer at work, praying the owner didn’t know how to check which sites he had opened once he’d delete the browser history. The site itself looked clean, mainly consisting of muted pastel colors and black font and accents. If you weren’t signed in, you didn’t get much information on what exactly was going on but the site claimed that keeping their clients data safe was their main concern since very influential people were using their site. Jeno completely blamed Donghyuck and the two redbulls he had already had for clicking on the pastel blue ‘sign up’ button. He then had to fill out basic data about himself: His gender, age, profession and interests along with his sexual orientation. He hesitated for a second when the site asked if he was okay to be partnered with someone of the same sex for a strictly platonic relationship but denied it in the end. Next he was asked to choose a nickname to chat with potential benefactors as the site called the sugar mommies and daddies. Was this where he should choose something cute to attract people to his profile? Whacking his brain for any cute plays on his actual name, he came up with exactly nothing other than the No-Jam nickname he had earned in highschool which really wasn’t cute at all. The only other thing that came to mind was when Jaemin jokingly called himself Nana and Jeno Nono in that god-awful aegyo voice which never failed to make Jeno cringe. Why did he have to choose a nickname anyways? It was to protect the benefactors; he really didn’t have anything else to lose than his dignity. Sighing, Jeno quickly typed in: ‘Jenonono’ as his nickname, only cringing slightly when choosing a password and entering his email address to confirm everything. Once he had activated his account with the link he was sent, Jeno only had to choose a couple of pictures for his profile to complete it. Well this was a problem. Jeno couldn’t even remember the last time he took a selfie where he wasn’t looking like death on two legs to send them to his friends. He quickly scrolled through his camera roll in search for at least one decently attractive photo. He only stopped scrolling when he found photos from almost a year ago before he had changed his field of study and had the fall-out with his parents. His hair was bleached a bright blonde color and the sides were shaved but he was looking good, more toned than he was now and like he actually slept at night. Not even close to how he was looking right now but it was still him, so did this count as catfishing? He quickly chose two photos with his blonde hair styled up and one with his natural haircolor from before he and Jaemin had the great idea to bleach each other’s hair and send them to himself via mail so he could upload them onto the website.

When Jeno pressed the ‘complete’ button, the site showed him on overview of what his profile would look like and it wasn’t even half bad if he did say so himself. He still felt a little uneasy about the whole thing and the fact that he was basically catfishing people into thinking he still looked so bulky and put together like he had looked last year didn’t help. “Come on Jeno, you have nothing to lose,” he grumbled and pressed the ‘confirm’ button one last time. His profile disappeared and the site instead showed Jeno their actual layout for the matching. Unlike other dating sites, he couldn’t swipe through potential benefactors himself; he had to wait until someone actually message him. Great. So he had to hope that his pictures and his honestly not great profile would lure someone in who was at least mildly attractive. Maybe no one would ever contact him and he could just throw it back into Donghyuck’s face how this had been a shitty idea to begin with. Sighing, he closed the site for now and deleted the browser history just to be safe as well.

The rest of his shift went by in a blur of trying to make sense of his scribbly notes and whatever the authors of the book he was reading were trying to teach him about the anatomy of different species and Jeno didn’t even think twice about the site he had signed up for when he closed down the shop and went home to his shitty dorm. The short trip to the convenience store only made him more aware of how poor he was when he had to choose between an actual meal and food for the cat he had recently (very much illegally) saved from the streets and taken in. He’d be more than damned if the kitten he had named Bongsik would have to suffer, so it would be a delicious meal for her and more instant ramen for Jeno.

Back at his dorm room - a single one that could barely fit his bed, wardrobe and desk - the little cat immediately rubbed its tiny head against his pant leg and Jeno couldn’t help but smile and bend down to pet the little creature. He felt a little bit of tension immediately seep from his tired muscles and indulged the kitten in a little cuddle session until he felt his eyes starting to itch. His allergies be damned! Sighing the boy got up to actually shed his jacket and shoes and opened the fresh can of delicious cat food for Bongsik who immediately devoured it. If she thought it was delicious, would it taste good for Jeno as well? Chuckling he turned back to prepare his own food, all this instant ramen might have started to take a toll on his psyche. He ate his meal in silence before throwing both containers in the trash. Jeno knew he had to work on his essay for one of his classes but for a moment he just felt the need to relax for a bit, especially now that he didn’t have to rush over to his job at the library. Taking out his phone, he quickly replied to the group chat of his friends where they were animatedly planning a trip to the cinema on Friday which Jeno had to decline. Not only did he have a shift at the bar but he also didn’t really have the money for it. Sighing he locked his phone again. Well that went great, now he was stressed again. “Bongsik you love me right?” He asked and turned towards his cat again who was lounging next to him on the floor, her belly full with delicious food. Oh to be a cat...

Jeno sighed again when his cat of course didn’t answer. He really was going insane. But it was going to be worth it, he reminded himself again. Once this was all over he would be a vet and able to help all kinds of animals. He would make good money and could pay off his tuition slowly and maybe a couple of years later he could even have his own medical practice. But to have all that, he really needed to up his grades. Especially this godawful anatomy grade. Groaning Jeno got up from the floor to plop down on his desk and start his laptop that made an awful lot of noise while booting up. Knowing that it took the device a good two minutes give or take to completely be ready, he started to go through his notes again before typing them into the document where he compiled all his notes just to have them all nice and neat in one place.

By some ungodly hour in the morning, Jeno’s eyes started to close more and more often on their own accord and the letters on the screen started to blur together despite wearing his glasses. “We should probably call it a night, Bongsik,” he spoke into the silent room, his cat already fast asleep at the foot of his bed. Fondly smiling at her, he saved his progress on both his notes and his essay and shut down his laptop. Jeno didn’t really dare to look at the time, so he just quickly grabbed his stuff for the bathroom and got himself ready for bed in the vacant bathroom he shared with a couple of other students. But at this time it was almost guaranteed to be empty.

Once back in his dorm, Jeno quickly climbed under the covers and plugged his phone in to make sure his alarm would actually go off in about 4 hours. Even though he was dead tired now that his body was surrounded by the warmth of his bed, a notification caught his attention. Leeching off of the free wifi at the record store, he had downloaded the app that came with the sugar baby site praying it would work on his outdated phone which it luckily did. Maybe the programmers had actually thought about broke students with shitty phones just like him for once. Taking a deep breath, Jeno clicked on the notification that had told him that a potential benefactor wanted to text him. Well that was quick. A lot quicker than he had anticipated. When the app had finally loaded with the shitty wifi he definitely not stole from his dorm neighbor (he had set his password as 1234, he was begging to have it stolen), a profile of a woman showed up. She smiled warmly in the picture she had chosen and it seemed to be taken at some tropical place judging by the palm trees in the background. Jeno quickly skimmed through the rest of her profile that only said that she wasn’t that much older than him. Well she was but not to the extent where she could have been his mother - ew. As her job she just had just listed estate agent. Did that pay well? Jeno didn’t know. His thumb hovered over the pastel button that said ‘accept’. If he would press this, this wasn’t just a ‘I’ll take a look at this app for Donghyuck’s sake’ then he was actually invested. But even if he accepted, he was not entitled to the woman. He could still say no if she turned out to be a creep. Hell, he didn’t even have to meet her ever if he didn’t like chatting with her. Before his courage could leave him, Jeno quickly accepted the offer and a new page opened that looked just like every other messenger.

To: Jenonono You’re up late.

What a weird way to open up a conversation. But it certainly was better than perverted innuendos or a ‘hi’ like Jaemin was continuously whining over whenever he had reinstalled tinder. But what was he supposed to reply? Should he try to act cute and coy? Was that what she would be looking for? But before he could even type anything, she had sent another message.

To: Jenonono You don’t seem like the typical boy you find on here.

What was that supposed to mean?

From: Jenonono I’m not? what are those like then?

To: Jenonono They’re not as handsome as you.

At that Jeno flushed a deep red color. He wasn’t used to such blatant flirting.

To: Jenonono I really like the blonde on you but the darker color is cute as well.

From: Jenonono it’s dark right now

As soon as he hit send, Jeno wanted to hit himself. What was she supposed to answer to that message? God he was such an idiot.

To: Jenonono Cute. Are you nervous?

From: Jenonono I have never done this before and didn’t think someone would message someone like me

To: Jenonono I haven’t been doing this for long either. And what do you mean by ‘someone like me’?

From: Jenonono you said yourself that I’m not the typical boy you would find on here...

To: Jenonono Well occasionally there is a diamond between all the rocks.

Jeno wasn’t sure if this was even an actual saying but it made him feel warm nevertheless.

From: Jenonono you’re pretty forward with your flirting

To: Jenonono Am I making you shy, baby?

As if to prove her point, Jeno almost choked on his own saliva, coughing loudly which ultimately woke up Bongsik who threw him a very much not amused gaze. He hadn’t known that just reading the word baby would have such an effect on him. A voice in the back of his head that sounded a little too much like Donghyuck called him a ‘bottom bitch’. Biting his lip he contemplated whether he should flirt back. Up until now it was fun talking to her. And he still had nothing to lose.

From: Jenonono What if I maybe blushed just the smallest bit?

To: Jenonono You’re so cute. I’m glad I found you. But you should go sleep, baby. It’s late already.

From: Jenonono shouldn’t you be asleep as well then?

To: Jenonono I just came back from a long flight and my bed seems a little lonely.

Was this his chance to get a little flirtatious himself? Was she testing him?

From: Jenonono would you want me there with you? so it’s not as lonely?

To: Jenonono That does sound very tempting, baby boy. Let me take you out for a meal before I take you to bed.

Jeno’s breath caught in his throat for a little before he broke out in little giggles. He had completely forgotten how good it felt to feel wanted between all the stress that his life currently was. Maybe but just maybe Donghyuck had been right and this truly could be the solution for many of his problems.

From: Jenonono is that an invitation?

To: Jenonono How does lunch tomorrow sound like baby? I’ll treat you to something delicious.

Gnawing at his thumb, Jeno read the message over and over. He didn’t even know the woman. Meeting up with her might be a risk. For all he knew she could be a serial killer.

To: Jenonono I know this is sudden. But I want to get to know you better. Face to face. Not just over a stupid text box.

Taking a deep breath, Jeno took all his courage and replied with shaking fingers.

From: Jenonono I have a little break between my last class of the day and before I have to go to my part time job.

To: Jenonono There is a cute little bistro not too far from where I remember the main dorm buildings were. [link attached]

Clicking on the link, a website opened and showed him a French-style bistro that judging by the address was right between his dorm and the record shop. He should be able to do it. Curiously he clicked on the menu and immediately regretted it. The prices were ridiculous. For the price of a simple piece of bread, he could easily feed Bongsik and himself for two days.

From: Jenonono isn’t this a little too much?

To: Jenonono Let me spoil you, baby. Just tell me the time and I’ll make sure that I can be there.

From: Jenonono would around one work for you?

To: Jenonono I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to meeting you. Now sleep tight and have sweet dreams, baby.

From: Jenonono maybe I’ll even dream of you

Screaming into his pillow, Jeno threw his phone away. He couldn’t believe that he just send that. Quickly grabbing his kitten, he pressed his face into her soft fur while she struggled in his hold. “Bongsik I have a date,” he whispered, “An actual date. With a potentially very rich woman. I can’t believe I actually did that.”

[booksforevermore13]

Always have (Always Will)

Summary: A one-shot revolving around the events after the war where Harry attempts to reconcile with Ginny after months being away from each other. But it turns out to be harder than he thought because everything... everything between them seems to have changed. Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer.

...

It always looked different at night. Even without the glasses, everything had an unfamiliar slant to it. Shadows seemed to dance across the room, disappearing as light coming through the cracks touched them.

Harry stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall as he watched Ginny cradling Teddy, gently coaxing him to sleep. Moonlight trickled in through the windows, lighting up her face as she smiled ever so faintly, gently bending down and kissing Ted on his forehead.

She looked beautiful, Harry couldn't help but notice. Her hair was shorter since the last time he'd seen here. Actually seen her. In the dwindling light of the moon, he felt like a painter looking at a canvas. But unlike a painter, he'd never seen the colors as one did.

Except with her.

Teddy gently cooed in his sleep as Ginny laid him on his bed and turned on his side, clutching his blanket. Harry smiled as he watched Ginny reach out and brush his hair away from his face, before taking a seat beside the young boy.

Harry wanted to talk to her. The war was over now, completely and utterly over and he could finally, finally go back to her again. All he had wanted since he'd seen her — battered and bruised on the stairs — was being with her again. Kissing her the way he had in the Gryffindor Common Room. It felt as if it had been forever ago, yet the memories of him breaking it off soon after was still fresh in his mind.

Ginny had looked at him with such pride back then, with an expression that conveyed her love, yet told him that she understood. He had been wanting to talk to her ever since, but it never seemed as if she was ever alone; and when she was, there was never a right moment.

A moment. That's all he wanted. Or maybe he wanted more. He honestly didn't know.

Harry took in a deep breath and stepped forward, determined to finally get a chance to speak to her. Ask her if she wanted him back. Because for him, he and Ginny were always meant to be.

He stopped in his tracks as Ginny turned briefly, and the moonlight fell on her face again. He watched as a stray tear made its way down her cheek, and she hastily brushed it off before more started falling.

He watched her bite her lip till it drew blood, watched as she buried her head in her hands, watched as she tried her hardest to stop her tears.

And then he felt his hand shaking. He was such an idiot. The funeral was tomorrow, and he couldn't believe he had thought of having such a conversation on its eve.

He choked back a sob. All reserve had worn off, and he slowly inched back, his throat clogged with the tears he was trying to keep inside. It hurt, it hurt so much, but this time, he couldn't discern where the pain was.

He stepped out of the room, his glasses brimming with tears. Not for the first time, he realized that it was not only Fred who had died; there were so many others. Teddy-Teddy had lost his parents too. Another young boy had lost his parents that night. And it felt as if it was on him.

How could Ginny possibly take him back when he was responsible for her brother's death?

...

Three weeks and five days.

Three weeks and five days had passed since the funeral, three weeks and five days since that night. Harry had lost all resolve ever since, forever looking for the right moment, but there never seemed to be one. Until now. Even so, he probably would have never found the nerve, hadn't Hermione pushed him to meet her and do what he had wanted to do since he'd seen her a month back.

The wind chimes tinkled as the door swung open and a cold gust of wind rushed into the shop. Harry raised his head expectantly, his heart hammering in his chest as he searched for bright brown eyes he felt he could get drunk on any day and as he met them, he realized with a sinking feeling that they no longer had that twinkle he so fondly identified them with.

Ginny looked at him, right at him, and her eyes softened into a look he couldn't recognize. He watched her hesitate as she brushed back a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Gin." Harry put the book he had been holding back in its place and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Hey Harry," Ginny replied.

Both of them looked at each other, yearning to break the silence, yet afraid to do so.

"Bit awkward, isn't it?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself and cringed, his nails digging into his palm.

"Blame the situation," Ginny muttered before sighing. "What are you doing here Harry?

"I was just looking around," he replied. "For books." He smiled as Ginny chuckled, and even though both their smiles looked positively forced, he couldn't help but marvel — for what was the billionth time now — how exhilarating it was talking to her.

Deep inside, he knew this was right. Even if his guilt over what happened still lingered, Ginny had to be with him after all of it.

"This is a bookshop you know Harry? See, Flourish and Blotts, big, ugly letters on the door." Ginny smirked and pointed at the doorway, her eyes on him the entire time.

"I know," Harry replied hurriedly. "Gin, can we… can we talk?"

Ginny froze, a look of uncertainty on her face.

"We are talking," she said finally and Harry looked at her, his eyes begging her to understand.

"I know what you're trying to say," she sighed, "we'll talk. Where-where do you suppose we go?"

"Anywhere," Harry replied. "Sorry, umm… can we—"

"We can talk here if you want," Ginny offered, hastily brushing back her hair again. "No one's going to come here, at least at this time anyway."

Harry nodded and opened his mouth, shutting it again. He saw Ginny looking at him intently before walking past him towards the back corner of the room where there was a stack of books arranged haphazardly in a way such that one nudge was enough to get it toppling to the ground. But it was secluded, and it was quiet and it would give them the needed privacy to talk.

Harry followed her, walking at a steady pace. He had no idea how to approach her. His sole intent on entering the shop was to see her again, talk to her face to face. The past three weeks he'd noticed her avoiding him every other moment, and his heart had broken bit by bit every time she did. But truth be told, he had been no different. For the past three weeks, he'd been the one avoiding anything and everyone, always at Hogwarts, always working on the renovations.

Now that he finally had the chance, Harry didn't know how to approach her. Would she still be interested? Did she want things between them to go back to how they were?

Ginny, he realized, had been the best source of comfort he had had in a long time. She was one of the few people who made him happy, a feeling almost no one had ever given him before. She was one of the most important people in his life, and he couldn't imagine it without her.

"I still love you," Ginny said abruptly, breaking Harry out of his trance.

"I know love is a strong word and everything, but I do. I love you," she continued, her eyes refusing to meet his. "I'm just unsure whether you still do."

"I do! I love you, Gin. I just want everything between us to go back to how they were."

Ginny smiled, her eyes filling with tears, and Hary wanted nothing more than to brush them away. "It's normal to feel like that, Harry," she said, "to-to wish that everything could be the same again, but things change with time and—"

"This is real Gin, for me. I swear."

Ginny shook her head dejectedly. "It's all I've ever wished for. Us being together. Since first year even, if you ask some," she laughed bitterly and Harry felt a sinking feeling that had become a constant over the years. "I don't think it's going to work out now."

"Why?" Harry asked desperately, trying to grasp the situation. He didn't understand; he was so sure they'd be together once they talked it through.

"You went through a war, Harry. Your feelings are all over the place. We… we won't work out, and then I'll be devastated, you'll… you'll blame yourself, try to pull everyone but yourself together. It's not fair to both of us." Ginny looked away, brushing off tears, her hand shaking as she let it fall to the side.

Harry reached out but then let his arm fall by his side. "Tell me how to make this right, Gin. Please." His voice shook, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered and stepped back, tears trickling out of her eyes as she rushed out of the store.

Harry stood in the shop, his feet fixated to the floor, unable to move.

She was wrong. She was. Ginny had been the last thing in his mind before the killing curse. The last lingering thought before his momentous death. He loved her, why would she ever think otherwise?

He rushed towards the shop door, yanking it open as he ran towards her petite figure rushing past an alley. The cold wind pricked his face, but nothing seemed to matter anymore. He caught Ginny's hand and whirled her around, making her look right into his eyes.

"You don't get to walk away like that, Gin, okay? I already let you do it once and I had no choice then, but I have choice now and I'm not letting you do it again."

"No."

Harry recoiled as if he had been slapped, his eyes searching for a feasible answer.

"Listen to yourself, Harry! You're doing the same thing you did back in your fifth year. Acting like everything was perfectly fine when it's not. You're hiding your emotions, trying to cover them up with things like this!" Ginny yelled.

"Things like this? I am trying to fix our relationship, Ginny! I'm trying to mend something special we had back then," Harry yelled back, frustrated.

"You can't fix everything! If you have to fix something, then it means it's broken. And you're not trying to fix this; this is your way of hiding all the trauma you're feeling right now. You're using me as a cover-up, as something to get you by and frankly, that's a little low of you!"

"I'm not using you, Ginny. I love you—"

"Then prove it! Tell me you don't feel guilty, tell me you're not blaming yourself right now for every bloody thing in the world!" Ginny broke off, chest heaving, hair flying wildly across the face. "I know you do. And even though people keep telling you that it's not your fault, you refuse to believe it."

Harry froze. It was petrifying hearing Ginny's words, for they were painstakingly true. They were the same ones he had been telling himself for the past two months, even though he never wanted to admit it.

He glanced at Ginny and then let his eyes fall, his heart constricting at the look of pity on Ginny's face. He couldn't blame her. He was exhausted, defeated. His hair was disheveled, he had dark circles under his eyes. He knew he looked pathetic. He felt pathetic.

"For once in your life, Harry, be selfish. Let yourself face what you're feeling." Ginny reached forward, her hand uncurling his fingers digging into his palm. "You've done enough."

"Gin, I—"

"We have forever to think of us. Don't... don't ruin this... don't ruin what we have just because you think you know your feelings right now. You've gone through hell and back. Don't… please don't project them in the form of love for me."

He felt her hands travel up and cup his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. "It's okay, Harry, it really is," she said, "you do what you have to do to get yourself together. You understand me?"

He nodded and let the tears flow, his chest heaving as he felt her fingers brushing away the tears streaking down his face. He watched her as she stepped back, smiling sadly. "I'll wait, don't worry."

"Wait, Gin-" he called and Ginny stopped. "I-I don't want you to go."

"Who said anything about going?" Ginny said and Harry closed his eyes as he felt her lips brush against his cheek. "When you're ready, I'll be here. I promise."

He nodded and opened his eyes to see her stepping away, but this time, it didn't hurt as much as it did back then. Because this time, he knew Ginny'd be there. She always did.

"None of this is your fault, Harry. Don't, please don't do anything rash to correct what you think you've done wrong. If not for you, then for me."

"I won't," Harry whispered as he heard footsteps grow silent. And he meant it. He wouldn't do it, he'd done enough. He'd done whatever he could do.

And for the first time in his life, Harry just let go. For the first time in his life, he felt himself stop fighting against everything around him. For the first time, he just stopped struggling. For Ginny had saved him in a way no one would have been able to, and even though it was a small, small part of him that believed it was finally over, it'd have to do.

It would have to be enough for now.

...

It was evening, the sky blazing with the setting sun. The clouds were a shade of pink one couldn't really explain, hiding the golden yellow sun behind them.

Ginny sat on the floor, sorting through her books, the only things left for her to pack. Seventh year at Hogwarts had a heavy curriculum, one she was not looking forward to, especially after everything that had happened.

She perked up as she heard a knock, and the door opened softly, thudding against the books by the door.

"Gin, hey can I come in?" a familiar voice asked and Ginny hurriedly got off the floor, yanking the door open. There was only one person who called her that and she smiled as she saw the boy in front of her. Tousled hair and green eyes that reminded her of the sea on a stormy day; it had been a long time since she had seen the sparkle in them.

"Hey Harry," she smiled as she held the for open for him to walk in.

Harry stepped inside the room, careful as to not tread on the books lying around. "I see you've almost packed," he observed, an innocent smirk on his face.

"Ha ha, very funny," Ginny shot back, "I honestly can't get myself to sort through all of these and the list seems endless."

Harry chuckled and settled down on the ground, cross-legged, picking out a rather large book from the bunch. It felt good, talking to Ginny with such ease, without worrying about anything around them. He cleared his throat before reading from the list. "Miranda Goshawk's Standard Book of Spells, Part Seven? You'd think they'd stop making us learn these."

"McGonagall's headmistress. If it was up to her, she'd add a few more on the list. And it is up to her."

The two shared a glance before bursting out in laughter. Ginny looked at Harry from the corner of her eye, smiling as she saw the change he had gone through; he no longer had that dull, sunken look in his eyes, nor the impression of carrying an unexplainable burden.

"Well, now that you're here, you should very well help me with this."

"Where do you want me to start?" Harry replied without missing a beat and Ginny smiled.

"Just help me find the books, I'll put them in later."

Harry leaned forward, fishing out the parchment and scanning it, his glasses slightly slipping down his nose. Ginny smiled and hastily looked down as Harry glanced at her over the top of the paper.

"Advanced Transfiguration, have you got that?"

Ginny looked around the room, getting up and shuffling through the bundle. "Yeah, got it."

Harry nodded, before going to the next item, helping Ginny look through the mound. He glanced at her, his mind straying towards the conversation they had had in front of Flourish and Blotts. It had been four months since, but Ginny's words had jerked him out of his trance and for the first time, he had gladly taken the chance to escape from everything around him.

He thought it'd be impossible, finding closure, finding relief from the guilt he carried over all those who had died in the war. But he had, and it had been worth it when he came back from Grimmauld Place, only to be enveloped in Ginny's arms.

They hadn't attempted to rekindle their relationship; both of them afraid to approach the other. And Harry missed it. Short lived though it had been, being with Ginny had been one of the best feelings in the world. Those four months by himself had proved that. They had proved that he needed Ginny in his life, that he needed her small fire that kept him going, that comforted him yet wasn't hesitant in calling him out when he did something stupid. He loved her, and though love was a strong word, it felt as if it wasn't strong enough.

Harry took in a deep breath, before gently placing his hand over Ginny's. "I'll miss you," he said as Ginny looked at him.

She smiled, her fingers entwining with his as if it was second nature. "I'll miss you too."

They looked at each other for a few moments, before Ginny shifted, looking around nervously.

"Gin, I love you," Harry said, slightly hesitating before he continued, "I know the last time I said it, it didn't seem to be true, but I swear that this time it is. I love you, Ginny."

They looked at each other for a few seconds before Ginny let out a breathless laugh, leaning forward impulsively, Harry's arms slipping around her waist as she kissed him.

Her hands tangled in his hair as their lips collided together in a kiss they'd both craved since a year and a half of being apart. It was long and it was passionate and it conveyed emotions that had been buried inside for so long. And it was one that had been long overdue.

They broke off seconds later, Ginny pulling back slightly before resting her forehead on Harry's. She smiled, softly laughing as a few tears trickled down her face, this time, brushed away by his nimble fingers.

"God, I've been waiting for you to say that for so long," she said and she laughed and if Harry could have bottled that sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. "I love you Harry, I love you so damn much and-and—"

"Shh," Harry said, and pressed his lips on hers again. "It's my turn," he said, "and I think that part of me has belonged to you since as long as I can remember and that part has just grown and grown until it's overcome me completely. I'm yours, Gin, if you'll have me."

"And I thought you were a dork," Ginny said and Harry laughed and smiled as Ginny kissed him with all the fervent and passion she had had earlier. "I think you've got my answer."

"I think I do," he said as he pressed his lips against Ginny's forehead.

And he was happy. He was happy and he was right where he belonged. And he didn't want it to be anywhere else.

[tlhrfanfic]

[Analogical] Closest to Heaven

DAY TWO @analogicalweek

Prompt: Stars

Read on A03.

Warnings: Angst, Minor Character Death mention, Grief. (Don’t worry though! Super happy ending!)

———————————————–

Virgil ran out of the house through the back door, the arguing echoing even as he slammed the door shut. He wasn’t afraid of his parents. They weren’t scary or mean or anything like that… to him. 

 But to each other… 

 He used the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe away the stress tears that stubbornly continued to fall. He ran and kept running through the streets until he found a park where the lights weren’t as bright and trees framed the open expanse. 

 He sighed, catching his breath before trudging through the grass. 

 Virgil knew he should go home. At some point his parents would be looking for him. 

 But something caught his attention. 

 He wasn’t sure what it was at first but it had definitely been skyward and so he turned his six year old face to the sky and his jaw dropped. 

 At six, he had definitely seen stars before. But the dimmer lighting meant less lights masking the stars and here, in this park, it seemed there were millions of them. He remembered his best friend telling him that once. That there were millions of stars but most of the time they just couldn’t be seen. 

 He had never, ever seen them like this. 

 So clear, so bright. 

 So.

 Many. 

He stared up in awe at the vast number and before he could stop himself, Virgil laid out on the grass and continued to stare skyward.

 I’d give up forever to touch you,

Cause I know that you feel me somehow.

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be,

And I don’t want to go home right now.

 Virgil fell asleep there on the grass waking a little later as his mother’s voice startled him and, with one last glance at the sky, ran back to her.

 “Mom… Mom, I saw stars! So many stars!”

 “That’s nice, Virgil, but don’t you ever run out like that again. You scared me. Now, let’s get you home. It’s cold out here.”

 Virgil glanced back at the stars, dim now that he was in a more brightly lit area, but for a moment he was certain that one star in particular shone just a little bit brighter, almost sparkling at him. 

 “Mom.. what are stars?”

 “Hmm?” She asked, taking his hand. 

 “Stars… what are they?”

 She glanced at the stars and smiled down at Virgil. 

 “Well… some people say they are burning gas but I like to think they are guardian angels… keeping us safe.”

 Virgil gasped looking back at the shiny star he had found and smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed as he made his way toward the park. He had been going to this park when he needed space ever since he was a kid. Unfortunately, it had been cleaned up some so more people frequented it which left Virgil annoyed. 

 It’s not your park. You can’t keep people from being here. 

 He was just grateful that the city hadn’t thought to put in more lights. There had been plenty of petitions but the city had far bigger issues it needed the funding for at the moment. 

 Unfortunately, that also meant a lot of other teens came to this specific park when on dates to make out and cuddle. Making a face, Virgil rolled his eyes as he passed one such couple on his way to his favorite spot. 

 He was so happy that no matter when he came, his spot was never touched. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, as it was a prime spot for couples, but no matter what, it was always there. 

 Virgil had nearly reached it when a couple of teens came his way and started to sneer in his direction. 

 “Hey, faggot!” They called. 

 “Wanna suck my dick, pretty boy?”

 “Hey, Emo! Doesn’t look like you’ve managed to kill yourself yet. Why don’t I choke you with my big cock?”

 Virgil hissed lowly and turned toward the three. 

 “You couldn’t handle me, fucktards. But sure, come get a kiss.”

 They recoiled at that and quickly ran off, calling him a freak and using other names he was used to hearing at this point. Honestly, he didn’t get it. It wasn’t like when his parents were kids. Why did so many people still have an issue with gay people? 

 If it wasn’t being gay or goth, they’d just find something else to torment you about, he told himself, sighing. 

 He kept watching them to make sure they weren’t coming back before continuing on. Reaching the spot, Virgil laid out his favorite purple-and-black plaid blanket. Laying out on it, he sighed as he was immersed in a relaxing feeling. 

 Putting his arms behind his neck, Virgil looked skyward and smiled, his eyes instantly finding his favorite star. He wasn’t sure how but it had seemed to grow brighter over the years. Tonight it was especially bright and, for a moment, Virgil allowed himself to believe that it was happy to see him. 

 A giggle caught his attention and he glanced over to see a couple holding each other and such intense emotions in their locked gazes that he could feel from where he was. 

 A groan escaped him and he looked skyward once more. As soon as his eyes met the star once more, it seemed to twinkle in and out for a few seconds. Virgil felt warmth and comfort. 

 Yes, if he just focused on the star—his star—everything would be just fine.

 “I wish you were here… you’d make this… life... all more… bearable.”

 And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

 Virgil woke at some point after midnight. Swearing, he hurried to get up, knowing his mom would be worrying. Once he had his stuff gathered, he looked up at the sky once more, smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he pulled the knot of the tie, loosening it. It still felt like a noose around his neck so he took it off completely, tossing it to the ground as he kept walking. 

 He reached his spot… the same spot he had been returning to for most of his life. Unfortunately, this was the first day he had been here that he no longer had the one person in the world he cared for. 

 “Why did you let this happen?” he growled up at the sky, the angry look in his dark eyes seeming to burn at the star. 

 For a moment, it seemed like the star grew dimmer. Almost as if in response to Virgil’s words. He didn’t know why, but it put a sour taste in his mouth and made his insides drop. 

 “You… you’re right…” he said, not sure why he was talking to the star. “You… it’s not your fault… but… my mom… she’s gone.”

 And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive

 Virgil suddenly fell to the ground, sobbing as he gripped into the earth beneath his hands. It grounded him and he looked up to see the star shining even more brightly, flickering every few seconds as if it was trying to say something. 

 “I don’t know what you’re saying… I don’t know what you want… maybe I’m crazy and this is selfish… but I want you here… or I want to be where you are…”

 He laughed at himself, bringing a hand up to his eyes to wipe angrily at the still flowing tears. 

 “This is a mistake… I… I don’t think I can keep coming… I’m… I’m sorry… thank you for always being there for me… I won’t forget you.”

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he took one step onto the sweeping grass of the park. He bit his lip and took another step. 

 You are being ridiculous, V.

 Pushing past his nerves—there was no reason to be nervous—Virgil strode with purpose past the larger lawn area in favor of returning to the spot that had gotten him through his childhood. 

 Reaching it now, Virgil smiled fondly. 

 He saw ghosts of his past. A little kid seeking security. A teenager seeking first love. A new adult seeking comfort. 

 Here he was once again… though this time it had been so much longer since he had been back. 

 Ten whole years, in fact. 

 Now a man of 31 and successful in life—he had gone to school to become a programmer, not that either mattered to him much. 

 Just like he had earlier in life, he sought more. 

 He yearned for a part of him that hadn’t been found. A part that could only be found in another soul. 

 Virgil didn’t believe in soulmates or anything like that. Still, he did believe—for himself, at least—that to be truly complete, he needed that special someone to share his life with. 

 Otherwise, what was it all for?

 Sure, he was comfortable and healthy and relatively happy. None of that was the problem. 

 If he never found someone to share life with, he would be just fine. 

 But that wasn’t what he wanted.

 And in searching for that, it had brought Virgil back to this special and sacred place. Sure, calling it sacred sounded a little dramatic, especially to him, but the feeling was there, just the same. 

 This place was sacred… to him. 

 That was all that mattered. 

 Allowing a little eyeroll and a smirk at his dramatics, Virgil allowed his eyes to finally move skyward. 

 For a moment, Virgil couldn’t find it. His heart beat rose and he felt a rush of dread but then his gaze caught it. 

 The star was a lot dimmer than he remembered but it was the right star. His star. He was sure of it. 

 At first, he felt a little silly. He almost didn’t want to speak but something urged him to, deep inside. 

 He told himself that if he was ever going to find what he needed, he had to make amends. Even if now he knew the star was just burning gas, it didn’t matter. 

 He needed to do this. He had to see it through. 

 “Hey… star… um… it’s Virgil.”

 God, I feel so stupid.

 He pushed past the embarrassment and insecurities and went on. 

 “I… I owe you an apology.”

 He didn’t know why but the star seemed to brighten. He knew it was probably just a trick of the mind but it made him feel better. He hesitated before moving to sit on the ground. Pulling his legs up to him slightly and resting the weight of his upper body on his hands, he leaned back to look at the star. 

 For a moment, he just sat in silence.

 And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

 “Look… I’m not sure what to even say and I know you’re not actually some being that can magically hear me or whatever but I still need to say this…” If I’m to ever move on… he finished in his head, too embarrassed to even think it. 

 When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

 “I just… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me… everything you are to me… just… thank you. When mom died… I… I blamed you and that wasn’t fair… it wasn’t your fault… it’s just… life’s a dick… but yeah… thank you… for always being there…”

 The star seemed to flicker and Virgil couldn’t help but beam up at it. It was almost as if ten years hadn’t come and gone. 

 He shifted to lay on the ground, his hands behind his head like he used to do as a kid. He sighed and let the comfort and nostalgia blanket him in warmth. He felt safe. He felt hope. 

 Virgil felt in that moment that anything was possible.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “I wish… I wish you could be… a person… like me. An actual human I could hold and touch. Someone I could love for who and what they are, that could love me for who and what I am…”

 He laughed softly, shaking his head, glancing away.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “Silly, right?”

 He snorted, looking up as if sharing an inside joke with the star. For a brief moment, he thought he was seeing things. 

 His star was gone. 

 At first he thought he had just misplaced it… or had looked in the wrong place. But no, he knew that star like he knew himself and that included where in the sky it resided. 

 “What the fuck?”

 Virgil got up quickly, staring up at the sky. He then squinted as if that would help him.

 “V-Virgil?”

 Virgil spun on his heels and stared as a very attractive man dressed in slim fit slacks, a navy button down shirt patterned with stars, and rectangular metal framed glasses seemed to glide across the distance between them.

 Virgil felt torn. His first instinct was to challenge the trespasser. He could be a serial killer or something. That feeling, however, was in complete contrast to the overwhelming feeling of familiarity

 Had he gone to school with this guy or something?

 No… I’d never have forgotten someone who looks like him.

 That was true too. Virgil, being gay, found men attractive… that’s how it worked. But he had never been so attracted to anyone as he was to this man. 

 “I don’t know what your game is but uh… I’m not really in a mood to talk… you’re kinda interrupting my er… quiet time…”

 The man tilted his head, looking confused. He then continued his walk toward him until he was standing a few feet away. 

 The feeling of familiarity tripled and he narrowed his eyes slightly. 

 “Did we go to school together or something? I swear I know you but I’ve never seen you before in my life… how’d you know my name? Please don’t be a stalker or something.”

 Again, the man looked confused and also a little concerned. Then something seemed to click with him as his eyes brightened and he smiled.

 “Oh… you don’t recognize me in this form.”

 Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 Of course Mr. Perfect was clinically insane. 

 He sighed but before he could say anything, the man had closed the distance between them. Virgil jumped back. 

 “Personal bubble, dude!”

 The man looked sad and Virgil felt a rush of guilt before remembering the guy was the one acting strange.

 “I apologize… you had just asked me so many times to hold you… I’m afraid I just assumed…”

 Virgil’s eyes widened at that. He quickly looked up at the spot where his star should be. It was as empty as it had been when he first noticed…

 When this man had first shown up. 

 But that was impossible.

 Stars didn’t just become people. 

 “I’m going crazy or I’ve died…”

 The man gave him a concerned look. 

 “I can assure you that you are not dead, Virgil. I also wish you to understand… I did this…” He gestured at his body and bit his lip. “I did this for you.”

 “Oh my fucking God… you are crazy. Stars don’t become people, dude! It doesn’t happen! Stars are gas! Not sentient beings!”

 The man laughed softly and Virgil swore there was an almost twinkling sound to it. Not really what normal laughs sounded like. The man, he realized, also kind of glowed. It was so subtle though that he doubted anyone but him would notice. 

 Still, it couldn’t be… it was impossible. 

 Wasn’t it?

 He slowly moved closer, hoping it wouldn’t bite him in the ass. He’d allow himself a little silliness… if it meant that this was real. 

 Could it really be? Is there any fucking way?

 “I’ve wanted this for so long…” The man said now, just standing there and letting Virgil inspect him. He bit his lip, as if nervous. Could stars feel nervousness?

 Well… he’s… he’s human now…

 He held the other’s gaze. His eyes were brown but almost golden. There was such warmth and comfort there. Slowly, Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 “It is you!”

 Ignoring the fact that this whole situation was feeling a bit too much like a Disney movie, Virgil threw his arms around the man. 

 “You’re here… you’re actually here… I can’t believe it… I don’t even give a fuck that it should be impossible… you… you came to me…”

 Virgil looked up, ignoring the way happy tears streamed down his face. The main raised a hand, gentle fingers wiping them away. 

 “I am… I am sorry it took so long… I had tried to come sooner but as I was working on it… that one night… I worried you wouldn’t wish to see me… so I waited…”

 He smiled so warmly and lovingly down at Virgil and Virgil blushed. 

 “I knew you would return one day and then I could be with you, if that was still what you wished.”

 Virgil’s tears doubled as he laughed, nodding. 

 “You have no idea,” he said and with that he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck and kissed him desperately. He hated closing his eyes, worried that the man would vanish and the star would be back in the sky, but instinct won over his fear. Luckily, he still felt the other kissing him back. 

 Pulling away, Virgil blushed. 

 “I just realized… I don’t know what to call you… do you even have a name?”

 The man nodded, smiling down at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. 

 “My actual name you would not be able to pronounce. But I have chosen a new one for myself, now that I no longer have need for the other. You may know me as Logan.”

 Virgil mouthed it and smiled. 

 It was the perfect name for his star. 

 “Logan,” he said and the man blushed but beamed. Virgil blushed as well but couldn’t stop smiling.

 “Virgil,” Logan said, smiling back. He then glanced up at his old home. “It’s so much different… seeing it through these eyes… and thinking… so strange... but… if you’re here… and this is your home… then I want to share it with you… if that is something you would like.”

 Virgil just threw his arms around him and buried his face into the crook of Logan’s neck. Long arms wrapped around him, embracing him. If he hadn’t quite been sure that this wasn’t all an elaborate dream, he was sure now. 

 Nothing in life had felt as safe and sound as his time with his star had and that was the exact feeling he felt now, in the other’s arms. He smiled and pressed closer. 

 “I love you, Logan.”

 He didn’t know how, but he could feel rather than see Logan’s smile. 

 “I love you, Virgil.”

 I just want you to know who I am.

———————————————–

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @sunshineandteddybears​ and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.