#(It means finding your own happiness and using it to spread joy to others. Loosely speaking.)

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

Tooth Wisdom #8

The first step to spreading joy is having it. Finding your own happiness makes the world a better place and helps you keep improving it.

[witch-hazels-musings]

could i request some (separate) platonic hcs for kaeya, venti, and childe ? 🥺 like if you were best friends what would it be like :')

Friendship!

Warning -> SFW! Fluff :) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Venti, Kaeya, Childe

Venti 

He is an incredible friend - just an absolute joy to have around 

He’s super fun, giddy, kind, and unexpected  - he’d make every day a new experience 

Just don’t be too worried if you don’t see him for a while - he is free like the wind and will drift to places that call him, eventually he always comes back 

Early Friendship

He is always happy to see you - like he just has this goofy smile on his face, this lightness in his voice and joy in his eyes 

There is a high likelihood he will have requests of you - maybe something to help him partake in his wild fantasies or ideas that seem to be fleeting and ever changing - he might drag you all around and see just how far you’ll go before you find out he was pulling your leg all along - he just likes to have a good time and your such a good sport 

His presence is kind and joyful. He lifts people up, he makes people laugh, he is silly and unexpected and while sometimes you might feel completely drained by the time you get home, you are always left with fond memories 

Best Friends

He would start to show more of himself to you - his joy would shift from surface level to unbound, he’d let you into his pain, his loneliness - you’d learn more about him and hear stories which seemed way to personal to be from the storybooks he says they are from 

You might catch him being more reserved and quiet. He’d ask you to visit the places that hold great meaning to him and as you sit there, watching him, you’d notice there was so much sadness and thoughtfulness to him - he’d be able to let himself rest near you and for a restless bard who cannot keep his energy together, it’s nice to have someone to rest his head near 

He’d teach you songs and would be so excited if you start to make some up with him - the two of you would often be found sitting near one another laughing and coming up with silly, confusing lyrics which only made sense to the two of you - it didn’t matter if you sounded good or not, he just like having someone to sing with 

Venti had asked you to join him under the large tree in Windrise, near the Statue of the Seven. It was one of his favorite places to go, he once explained to you how the air there seemed to be rejuvenating, refreshing and clear. When you made your way down the path and saw him sitting on one of the large roots of the tree he waved at you with gusto. 

The two of you sat there for some time, talking about your day and sharing funny stories or strange anecdotes. He may look like he was laughing and having a grand time, but you knew him well enough to know there was something strange about the way he laughed, about the smile that seemed much too sad. 

“Y/N?” He asked, his face looking upward into the large branches of the tree. 

“Yeah?” You let the grass fall from your hands, the thin blades floating in the soft wind. 

“Do you think friendships last beyond a single lifetime?” 

You looked up at him but he continued to look up toward the blocked sky. You thought for a bit, considering his question and wondering why he would ask something like this. 

“I think the connections we make in our lives last for as long as they need to. People come and go, drifting between in and out like grass on the wind until they come to rest. For how long, I don’t know, and until the wind decides to pick them up again we have to enjoy the time spent there.” 

“That’s a lovely thought.” Venti hummed, his eyes shining and the corner of his mouth slightly pulled back. 

“Hey,” You called out to him and he looked down at you, “I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I am stronger than grass on the wind, and I plan on being your friend for eternity if you’ll let me.” You stick out your pinky finger and he returns the gesture, your two fingers wrapping around the other in this solemn promise. 

“It’s a deal then.” 

Kaeya

He is pretty busy, so he might not hear from him from time to time - but don’t worry, he isn’t like this because he doesn’t enjoy your friendship, he just has a lot on his plate - it keeps him busy 

He’s totally down to hang out in the evenings whether thats in a bar, in the popular places people tend to gather, or wandering about the town - it’s an excellent excuse to see you, maybe get something nice to drink, and gather information all at the same time

Early Friendship

Kaeya always has something up his sleeve - he may seem kind, just keep and eye on him - he’s tricky

He is inviting and would listen to you, he’d offer you solutions to your problems - just be aware they might not always be the most … ethical of solutions … they might also be difficult to accomplish, his ideas can often be quiet intricate 

He’d take a moment to chat with you when he sees you around - waving at you with quick flick of the hand and calling out your name 

He’d even offer to assist you on commissions or any adventure you are heading out for - please take him, he’s dying to get out from behind the castle walls and he finds your company very entertaining 

Best Friends

He’d find you just to hang out with you - maybe using his breaks to go to the places you usually hang out (maybe your work or favorite spots in the city) and when he finds you he’d be okay to just talk about nothing in particular, even on his days off you’d find yourself surrounded by Kaeya - the two of you share in a lot of great conversations and laughter 

He digs that you joke back with him and don’t take him all that serious - it’s nice to just let loose and have someone to be himself without all the extra masks he finds himself wearing - with you he can just exist, no expectations, no push to go one way or the other, he can just be 

Honestly, it doesn't matter what the two of you do, it’s just fun to hang out with one another, to spend time together, to laugh with each other, about each other, for each other 

Kaeya hasn’t felt this close to someone in such a long time - it’s a feeling he never wants to loose, he values this friendship more than you’ll ever know 

The two of you sat on the upper floor of the bar enjoying the evening of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. Kaeya had started long before you had even gotten there and was already having a fun time. 

“Hey! Glad you could join the fun.” He sang, his arms spread wide to greet you. He had already said this to you a few times but you just laughed it off. 

“I told you I'd be here and I wouldn’t want to be a liar. I know you’ll never let me live it down.” 

“Ah, you know me so well.” He took another drink from his glass and set it back onto the table before looking at you. He was so thankful to have you in his life, you made the days fun and you brought something he was missing, a person who he could just be around, a person he could rely on, a person who valued him for him. 

You looked at him, a half-cocked smile spreading across your face. “What, you’re looking at me funny.” 

“I’d like to make a toast.” He shouted, lifting his glass up high and inviting the whole room to join in. “A toast to friendship, may ours last until the snow on Dragonspine melts.” 

“And even then, you won't be able to get rid of me!” You shout back, adding your glass to the cheer. 

“Hah, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

The bar explodes into chanting and cheers and the two of you spend the rest of the evening laughing away. 

Childe

He’s such a wild friend 

Like be aware that you may never know what is coming when it comes to Childe - one minute things will be normal and chill and the next, tables are flying, people are cheering and mora is falling from the sky 

He’s super cocky and sure of himself, this personality of his comes across in his action on a regular basis

Like a torrential rain or unexpected storm - Childe’s friendship is a sight to behold 

Early Friendship

He’d be nice enough, saying hi to you and giving you parts of his day - if he had the time - it was hard to make connections with people since he moved around so much, if he did make any connection with a person they were usually short lived - like a burning match or a downpour in the rain 

While you may be more open, he’d let you do most of the talking - he’d keep his work to himself and wouldn’t share much with you unless it was necessary. You’d never notice either, he’s very good at getting people to open up without expelling much energy 

Best Friends

He recently started brining you small gifts, trinkets or items that you’d like - he’d learned so much about you and even as sporadic as his contact with you was, you were always excited to see him, always happy to share with him things going on and even brave enough to ask him about his own - never pushing him past the level of comfort he was used to 

Since he considers you an very close friend, he started to be more open about his own life with you - sharing with you about this family and being vulnerable enough to let you know how much he missed them - he’d make jokes about not using this information against him later and while you laugh, he hopes you take him seriously -- he’s giving you a lot about himself and he can’t bare to see you betray him 

He’d also start to be involved more in your life - he’d want to join you on your outings, ask you if there was anything he could do to lift your burdens, often taking care of any issues you bring to him in whatever way was quickest, or most efficient (please don’t kill anyone, Childe…) 

The two of you laid out underneath the stars. You found this activity pleasant and after inviting him out once, he’d asked you to take him again and again. He was incredibly curious about the stars in the sky and you did you best to answer him - you weren’t necessarily an expert in the whole thing, but it was something you found a lot of joy in, so you managed to give him a lot of new information. 

“You know, I’ve only ever focused on one or two stars my whole life.” He said, looking up at the vastness of the night, his hands extended as if he was trying to capture the little lights in his hands. 

“Most people don’t even look up. They're so busy looking at the now or thinking about their next step.” 

“Well, I looked at them only out of necessity, nothing more … and now …” He dropped his hands back onto the blanket and you stopped looking at your notebook. The small lantern flicking across the pages, fluttering across his face and in his ginger hair. 

“Now, what?” You asked, curious as to what he was going to share with you next. 

“Now I’m able to see there are so many possibilities other than one or two. You helped me see that, so thank you comrade.” 

“Any time, that’s what friends are for.” You chuckled, looking up at the stars. A bright light flashed across the sky and your heart fluttered. You tapped him on the arm, “Look, a shooting star, make a wish!” 

He looked out over the fast, never ending, glittering darkness and wished for this friendship to last until the last star faded.

[wandsolsen]

Champagne Problems

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: In which Wanda rejected your marriage proposal, inspired by Taylor Swift's song Champagne Problems.

Warnings: pure angst, cursing.

Word Count: 1.8k

↳ Please, be aware that English isn't my first language, fell free to tell me if there are any mistakes.

You booked the midnight train for a reason, you wanted to contemplate your pain with your head against the train window.

The reason for your suffering had a name, Wanda Maximoff.

You sat down in one of the seats, feeling the hurt in your chest burning hard just for thinking about her. The train wasn't too much crowned, however, it wasn't all empty. There were people talking and people sleeping, you were not sure which was worse.

People looked at you, certainly worried about how miserable you were.

You finally rested your head on the train window, looking at the view from the outside. Unintentionally, you remembered Wanda's hand holding yours as the two of you danced on the dance floor.

Wanda smiled at you, and she looked happy. But she wasn't, at least, not complete. Not happy enough to say yes.

However, nobody could ever have thought that she would say no.

You felt the tears coming out, your mouth trembled as you remembered. Your heart was made of glass and she let it drop it.

You had prepared a speech, but when you got down on your knees, you didn't find the expression of emotion and excitement that you had imagined she would had. Instead, you saw Wanda's body tense and fear in her green eyes.

You were speechless.

She didn't even let you ask, she ran away, leaving you there, on your knees and crestfallen on the dance floor.

You were so broken that you hadn't the strength to reach out to her, Wanda's love escaped beyond your reaches.

You saw the pity look that your family and friends gave to you. You had told them that you were going to propose Wanda that night, you couldn't keep it a secret.

You had bought Dom Pérignon and one of your family members had already popped the bottle in an early celebration, it was humiliating.

"Maybe it's just one of her...What does she call? Oh, yeah," Steve remembered before anyone could answer him. "her champagne problems." Steve was trying to calm you down, but he wasn't succeeding.

Fuck Wanda, you thought, your veins filled with angry. Fuck her and her champagne problems.

But even with all the fury you were feeling, Wanda's picture was still in your wallet along with your mom's ring.

You didn't hate her for leaving, you could never hate her.

You remembered the first time you made Wanda blush, it was in November.

You both met in college, and you thought you were the luckiest person in the world for having Wanda as your roommate. She was organized, friendly and didn't ask too many questions, everything a person could want from a roommate.

"Someone said to me that this door was once a madhouse." You said to her, wanting to make small talk.

"Well, it's made for me." Wanda made a joke, and you chuckled.

"A beautiful and intelligent woman like you in a madhouse? I find it hard to believe."

"Beautiful people do have problems too." Wanda's face was getting flush.

"I know, I know." You said. "I just wanted to praise you because, well, you're definitely one of the most beautiful girls on the campus."

And there it was, Wanda's face all red and her shy smile on her lips. You felt your heart beating faster than usual at that moment.

"So do you?" You continued.

"Do what?"

"Have problems."

"Just champagne problems." She answered.

"Champagne problems?" You asked, with your furrowed eyebrows.

"Yes, nothing meaningful or worth mention," She explained. "when compared to the others issues around the world."

"Well, champagne or not, they're still problems."

She thought about your words for a moment, but didn't say anything. Wanda continued to devalue her own problems, claiming that her issues were insignificant and there were worse things in the world.

Wanda was very reserved in the beginning, it was usually you who started the conversations. It didn't take long for you to fall in love with her.

I mean, how could you not? She was gorgeous and caring. Wanda was kinder than the most people you had ever met. She was a dream girl, with her hair loose and long, her sweet smile and her funny laugh. The way she was always up to help someone in need, and how she tried to empathize with everyone.

Wanda was absolutely flawless.

You only asked her out on a date when you were sure she wouldn't reject you.

Now, seeing from afar, you could see how stupid you were. You should have waited, just kneeling after knowing for sure that she would say yes.

But that's the problem.

You had sure that Wanda would say yes with tears dropping from her eyes. Then, your song would have played, you would have kissed her and held her hand tight while dancing. Your friends would have cheered with joy, and Wanda would have hugged you with a radiant smile on her face.

You let out a breath of pain. You now lived with only wishes. Because she dropped your hand while dancing, instead of holding tight.

Just champagne problems, she would say, about this dramatic situation.

You had a black Chevy that Wanda loved, she enjoyed riding in your car, even if you never go anywhere special. And when the car stopped running and you decided that was time to buy a better one, Wanda didn't let you. Often you saw her on the passenger seat murmuring whatever song was playing on the radio.

Nevertheless, the Chevy wasn't going anywhere. Just like your relationship.

Feeling tired of sitting there in this hurt, you left the train and went to the nearest hotel that you could find, you didn't want to come back home anytime soon.

You lived in a small town, your failed marriage proposal was probably spreading in the mouth of people like a disease.

Your turn on your phone, there were many messages and missed calls from your friends, but no one of them matters to you. Except one.

There was one voicemail from Wanda. Just that. She didn't send you a dozen messages like your friends, just a voicemail.

You set down on the bed, before listening to her voice for the last time.

Hey, Y/N, it's me, Wanda. I think I owed you an apology for leaving you out there standing. I-I can't do this, I'm sorry.

Wanda's voice was trembling, it sounded like she was crying. Why was she crying? She left you, not the other way around.

You didn't know it was possible for your heart to break more, but it did. The sound of her painful voice would haunt you forever.

I really can't give you a reason, I guess I never was ready for commitment. Sometimes you just don't know the answer until someone gets on their knees and asks you, you know?

There was a long pause, so long that you thought the message was over. However, Wanda's voice filled the room again:

You deserve someone better than me, you always had. Someone who is not fucked up in the head like me, someone who will never hurt you like I did. You'll find a real thing out there, she will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and she will patch up your tapestry that I shredded. She will be so perfect that you will not remeber me, or all my champagne problems.

Your vision was blurred because of the tears that fall uncontrollably from your face.

Ours... your friends called, they all are worried about you, please contact them.

There was another long pause.

I lov...

Your heart started to race at the words she was about to say, but Wanda gave up halfway, as if realizing that the words were not true.

Goodbye, Y/N.

And that was it.

Four years of relationship saying goodbye in a voicemail of less than five minutes.

Your throat burned from holding on to crying for so long, you wanted to scream until your vocal cords burst.

You loved her more than anything, and she left as if it were nothing. As if your love meant nothing.

You took the picture of Wanda that was still on your wallet, and tore it into several pieces before throwing it in the trash.

Eventually, the sleep caught you while you were crying in the hotel bed, similar to a friendly hug in the midst of so much pain.

━━━━━━ ᗢ ━━━━━━

You heard that Wanda left town, without looking back, on the same day that she rejected your proposal.

Wanda's sweet perfume was still impregnate, along with your memories with her, in every room of the house that the two of you used to live. You didn't manage to stay there, it didn't take long for you to sell the house and buy an apartment in the city center.

You sold your black Chevy, there was no one around to stop you.

You also sold Wanda's things that she left behind, you didn't want anything to remind you of her. Because after the end of the day, you were still mad at Wanda. For leaving, for didn't give you a good reason, for making your waste four years of your life.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head." That was probably the last thing that someone spoke about Wanda, before another big gossip emerge in your town and they eventually forgot the humiliation that she put you through.

At first, you stayed in your new apartment with your heart broken, just watching futile reality shows and eating junk food. Steve, your best friend, was there all the time giving you emotional support, even though he didn't always know how to say the right thing.

But eventually you had to face reality, after all, you suffering or not, life still went on.

It took two years before you were ready to fall in love again. And two years since you had heard from Wanda, you didn't know about her even on social media, since she had deleted them all.

It was as if Wanda had simply disappeared, little by little, she became a myth in your life, a ghost that haunted you from time to time. Not even your friends and family mentioned her name.

Sometimes you wondered if she really existed, if you haven't invented her in your head.

It was in a bar outside the town, that you met Natasha Romanoff. She was self-confident and carried a death look in her eyes, rigid on the outside, but soft on the inside. She had short red hair and was not very fond of wearing jewellery.

Totally different from Wanda.

Natasha was fun to be around, it was easy to understand her because she was always honest with you.

You started to date her on the very first day of summer. Then, after spending all the four seasons together, you started to carry your mom's ring in your pocket and Natasha's picture in your wallet.

And when you got on your knees, she didn't leave you crestfallen on the dance floor. She said yes, and held your hand tight while dancing.

However, in the end, Wanda was wrong.

You still remeber all her champagne problems.

[chatonne-rousse]

Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her.  ILY, my friend!  

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

[misschifuyu]

howdy 🥰 i reaaally like your writing style and the way you depict characters 🤌

can i request styling Baji, Chifuyu and Mitsuya's hair pleaase ? 🥺

thank you! i hope you have a GREAT day!! 💖

- hello there babes ! thank you so much omgg, really ♡ and I hope you’re having a wonderful day yourself, here’s your request bby !!

Baji, Chifuyu and Mitsuya getting their hair styled by their s/o

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Baji

as said in the shower headcanons, I believe that baji takes pretty good care of his hair. it's very soft to the touch, and the slight wave to his locks always made him look as if he spent hours styling it

realistically - and this you would find out after he spent a night over at yours - his hair will go that way with a simple brush through, nothing more, nothing less

you hadn't believed it at first, but upon watching him do so a few times, you came to the conclusion that he was gifted with perfect hair by the gods themselves

it would be a weekend that you'd ask him if you could play with his hair, seeing as he didn't have any plans until the evening

he'd comply happily, and patiently sit down in front of your bathroom mirror, waiting for you to start on whatever ideas you had stored away in that head of yours

of course, you'd start off with his signature ponytail

you had to hold back a gawk as the hair was easily collected into your hands, allowing you to slip the hair band on with ease

where had this guy even got his hair routine from ?

all this did was boost your excitement to see what other styles you could get his hair into

baji had to take a few silent seconds when you pulled his hair into two pigtails, right at the top of his head

you thought he looked splendid, but he, on the other hand, was about to regret letting you near his locks. nevertheless, he let you continue, slipping the hair out of the tight style

next were two braids. at first, you didn't think much of it: he'd look like a cute school girl, and you'd for sure had to try and sneak a picture of that if he let you

but, as you tied the second one with the little band and flipped them forwards, you could almost see the hairs on the back of his neck stand up

"I look like that haitani bastard, y/n, what the hell!"

after realising what you had done, you couldn't hold back a few laughs as he fumbled around, trying to undo the neatly folded pieces of hair

he wasn't best pleased, but was impressed by how - if a certain someone didn't sport them all the time - he'd actually pull them off

last, but certainly not least, you wanted to try a little something out with his hair that you had seen a few other guys with long-ish hair wander around with

parting the locks just above his ear, you pulled the top layer up into a bun, tying it loosely with the hair band

you made sure not to make it so tight that it would make him look almost bald on the top of his head by giving it a little volume

at this last style - the notorious man bun - baji sent a look to the mirror that made you confirm that he quite liked it

turning his head around to the sides, he looked at the bun you had pull together just a little below the top of his head

"you know...this one ain't too bad"

clasping your hands together in joy, you told him that it was a pretty easy style to do, and it would mean he could keep his hair out of his face without having to do a full-on ponytail

giving you a face of approval, he happily left your little hairdresser session, not even bothering to ask if you were actually done

you didn't mind though. in fact, you were looking forward to see what the others thought of your grand creation on your boyfriend's hair

Chifuyu

funnily enough, chifuyu does actually try and keep his hair in a good shape. he's tried silk pillowcases, deep conditioners and even treatments that he'd frequently steal from your place

he'd always bring the bottles back, though, so not to worry

it was the reason why he was happy to let you play with his hair one morning that he hadn't much else to do

he stole your hair products, so he guessed it was only fair to give his hair up for a quick experiment from your behalf

like baji, you'd sit chifuyu in his bathroom, just in case something went horribly wrong and you needed to wash out his hair in the shower

knowing you were only working with a top - although considerably thick - layer of his hair, you had taken out your smallest hairbands

you had frequently seen him with his hair pulled up by his bangs, as he'd usually pull it up into that style whenever he came over to your place

he deemed it much more comfortable than having hair on your face when trying to relax

instead, you jumped right into parting his hair into two sections, forming a straight line down the middle of his head

he looked a little strange with a prominent split like that, making him look like something out of the olden times, so you quickly went in with the bands to try and make his concerned stare go away

granted, it did, but only to be replaced by widened eyes as he stared at the two, small buns you had managed to tie up at the sides of his head

"i..."

"you look like peke j now!"

at your comment, he whipped his head around to look at you, stood behind him as you marvelled at the creation

it seemed that the black cat had heard his name being called out, appearing at the bathroom door in an instant

the two exchanged looks with each other, silently, for a good minute or so

"do i, peke?"

you had to admit that chifuyu was very close with his cat, so much so you were pretty sure they actually had conversations through brainwaves, because the small animal gave a quick meow as an answer

when you eventually got him back in front of the mirror, you started racking your brains on what else you could do with the bundle of bleached, blonde hair

an idea came up, but you weren't too sure how it would play out on his head

nevertheless, you took a risk and started parting his hair in different sections

even chifuyu was curious to see what you were doing. all he could tell was that you seemed to be having a little struggle with it

and the result wasn't much better

having attempted to tie his hair into a short braid, you ended up noticing that not all his hair strands were the same length, ending up in what looked to be more like a bundle of messy hair, single strands sticking up in all directions

"what's...that supposed to be, y/n?"

after struggling to give a straight explanation, the two of you burst out into a fit of laughter

surely enough, the style had gone a little off track, but you couldn't deny how amusing your boyfriend looked with it on top of his head

Mitsuya

now, mitsuya doesn't really have much hair on his head

this is mainly due to the fact that he used to have his sides shaved, much like draken, so it would take him a little tweaking here and there to be able to get an even haircut all around

he doesn't really mind, though. it's a simple hairstyle, and he really had enough work with his sisters' hair that he didn't need another head to style every morning

this wouldn't stop you from running your hands through it, though, and wondering what you could do with it. surely there could be at least a little style to do with it

after a good ten minutes of thinking, you jolted up from your previous position, laying on his chest as the two of you had been watching the tv

with only a minimal explanation, you dragged him to your bathroom, sitting him down on a stool before the mirror

through the reflective surface, mitsuya could see you fumbling around in the drawers just behind him, just before whipping out a box, a triumphant smile on your face

when you placed the mysterious container on the sink, he automatically knew where you were going with this, and he was curious to see how you'd do it

you know those small, colourful butterfly clips that are all the rage now?

well, you had a whole bunch of them, and you were determined to make his hair look like whole colony of little butterflies

the first bunch that you clipped on were pretty randomly placed, but as his hair started to get filled up, you brought out whatever artistic side you had in you to try and turn it into art

mitsuya watched you try and place the last few left, looking around his own head to see where the next one could be placed

"look, you can put one here"

he has a very good eye when it comes to styling pretty much anything, so, of course, he'd lend a hand when you were finishing up with your creation

gleefully, you followed his instructions, and after fifteen minutes of decorating his grey hair, you finally smiled at him through the mirror

"what do you think?"

squinting his eyes as though evaluating your work, he quickly followed with a convinced nod

"im sure to become toman's image if I start wearing these all the time, that's for sure"

you giggled at his comment, and asked if it was okay to take a picture of him to be able to show his sisters later on. he happily complied, and he actually seemed quite content with what you had done with his hair

he had never imagined to wear so many clips at once

but, be aware...as soon as they're off, he's going to want to do either the same or maybe even more to your hair

you managed to keep him sat for one more style, though; one that you were sure would give you enough time to escape before he actually fixed it up

combing his hair back, you spread a considerable amount of gel on his hair, making it stick down to his hair. unsurprisingly, mitsuya gave you questionable looks as you flattened his poor hair down

the result was a very slick looking boyfriend, and you couldn't help but jokingly telling him he should wear it like that all the time

however, he was not about to go around looking like he had just come out of grease

[carelesscreativity]

Ink’s Breaking Point: Gift for J_Demi_Creates On Twitter

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[Based on this post https://twitter.com/j_demi_creates/status/1383857865178316806?s=21]

[Set in FGOD Multiverse]

(SFW, Angst, Dismemberment)

Ink loved how they all acted like he didn't already know. He sat on the floor of the Doodlesphere, hearing Dream and Blue chattering behind him about how everyone had done very well in battle. Ink was tending to his wounds, painting back the limbs that Error had torn off his body. He'd painted back both legs and one of his arms, though it had been difficult. Error always lamented about how annoying it was that Ink wouldn't die. The glitch had seemed especially fired up today. He'd spat at Ink, telling him how all he did was get in the way. That he wasn't needed. That Ink didn't help with the balance in the slightest. He'd said it so vehemently and Ink scoffed to himself, finding it funny how Error thought Ink didn't already know all that.

"Ink?" Dream's voice brought him back and Ink held up his hand, silencing both of them. He continued to paint back his other arm in silence. He held it up and watched in quiet disappointment as his tattoos began to spread up onto the new bone, tainting it. He hated them. He finished off his hand and sighed. "Ink?" Dream had come over and knelt next to him. "You seemed upset when you came back from fighting Error. You were crying." Had he been crying? Ink furrowed his brow before the memory vaguely returned to him. Right. When Error had... reminded... him of his position. Ink had stared at him and he hadn't even realized there were tears running down his face. He hadn't felt anything. He never did.

"Yeah. Said some stuff to me. But nothing I didn't already know." Ink said quietly. That was usually how he shut down conversations like this, but it seemed that that wasn't good enough for Dream today. He sat down next to Ink, Blue coming over and settling next to Dream.

"What did he say? Because I can assure you that none of it is true." Dream insisted, his brow furrowed in concern. Ink glanced at him. It was always such genuine concern. It fascinated him in a way. Amused him. But that wasn't what he was really focused on. It was Dream's words. It was those lies that he kept fabricating off of that golden tongue of his. If he wanted to keep pushing when Ink had offered a way out, then that was his own fault. Ink met his gaze and his ever changing eyelights had faded into barely colored circles. Dream's smile faltered as Ink stood up abruptly.

"I think it's a little funny." A smile spread across Ink's face, but it was the worst kind. One without any cheer or joy. Any semblance of a positive emotion. Ink stared out over his Doodlesphere before turning to look at Dream with those pale eyelights, slowly tracing his fingers over the vials on his sash. "Dream, do you think I'm stupid?" The prince seemed taken back immediately and he began to protest that he did not. That forced, calm smile didn't leave Ink's face as he watched him. "Then that's another lie, isn't it?" Dream seemed lost and he opened his mouth. "I guess 'stupid' isn't the right word." Ink's skeletal fingers made soft clinking sounds as he dragged them up and down the vials. "Maybe 'ignorant' or 'naïve'..."

"I-Ink, I don't... I don't think you're any of those things." Dream stared at him in confusion. Blue didn't seem to know what was happening either. "Ink, what did Error say to you? I-It's clearly upset you-"

"He just reminded me of something. Something you definitely already knew. Y'see, when you greeted me for the first time as another balance-keeper, I just assumed you didn't know. But then you kept talking and it became VERY clear to me that you did know." Ink's voice was calm and he kept that smile on his face. "I think it's amazing you thought you could lie to someone who lies for a living. Who spends everyday pretending to be someone and something they're not." Dream stared at him and opened his mouth. Ink stopped him again by holding up a hand and there was an audible click as Dream shut his mouth.

It wasn't Ink holding up his hand that had gotten him to shut up. Ink had slid one of his vials from his sash. Bright red liquid almost seemed to glow inside of it. Blue gulped and stood up, Dream immediately following. He kept himself slightly in front of Blue. "He reminded me I wasn't actually necessary. That I don't actually influence the balance like he does. Like you or Nightmare do." Dream's shoulders sank as Ink met his eyes. "But you already knew those things." Ink tipped his head. Dream really wasn't liking that lazy grin. He really didn't like it. "You guys really are similar. You and your brother." Dream's gaze hardened and he began to protest. "Shut up." Ink summoned his paintbrush to his other hand and Dream did as he asked.

"You're both smart. Calculating. You both like to plan for every outcome. Look ahead into the future. That's the reason you befriended me, isn't it? It was your failsafe. You didn't befriend me with the actual intention of having me as a friend, you befriended me because I could be a real problem for you in the long run." Blue didn't understand. He knew he was uneducated when it came to the balance, but he'd always thought Ink was the one to balance out Error. Dream had told him that. And all these things. All these things Ink were saying couldn't have possibly been true. He turned to Dream to ask and froze up.

Dream's eyelights were shrunken and he couldn't seem to look at either of them. There was a pop that made both Dream and Blue jump, looking back at Ink. The cork of the vial clattered to the ground. Ink smiled at them, a facade of tired amusement. "I-I can't deny I knew... And I can't deny the reason I befriended you." Dream managed to say. "But I do care for you. I do care for you as a real friend now. Nothing I did or said was with malicious intent." Dream's voice was shaking. Blue seemed shocked as he stared at Dream. The prince glanced at him before immediately looking down, but Ink had already seemed to notice.

"So you lied to him too?" The words bit into Dream like flames. He looked up to see Ink's calm smile still plastered on his face. It had grown wider, but his eyes were white pinpricks. Dream was shaking quietly. He didn't know what to do. His entire plan, which had been formulated long before he'd actually started thinking of Ink as a true friend, was based solely on Ink not knowing that he was not a cog in the machine. It was falling apart.

"I-I did. I'm sorry, I didn't do it with malicious intent..." Blue was a little disappointed in Dream, but he was also confident Dream wouldn't have lied to him without a good reason. He just... wasn't really sure what that reason was.

"You seem confused." Ink almost cooed and it took Blue a second to realize that Ink's attention had shifted to him. For some reason, his entire body felt frozen. Why was he so tense? This was Ink. This was... This was his friend... right? Blue didn't know what to say and Ink gave an empty scoff. "Quietest I've heard you." Blue was momentarily taken back. Ink traced small circles in the air with the vial, careful to not let any of it spill out. "You know why Dream lied about everything?" Blue realized he was trembling and shook his head. Ink's grin became something sharp. Something that could cut like a knife.

"I may not be important, but I can tell I'm quite a nuisance. Error tells me that a lot. He says I'm a bitch to fight. Dream lied because I'm DANGEROUS. Isn't that right?" He gave a tiny laugh like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. "I'm a threat to the Multiverse unless I'm leashed. Right, Dream?? You just want to keep the Multiverse happy and safe. A true hero." He sighed, his smile still not leaving his face. Blue gulped. He had his hands clasped in front of him quietly. Ink hummed softly, but it wasn't a good sound. It sent ugly prickles up both of their spines.

"I'm tired of humoring you two." Ink said bluntly. He tipped the vial into his mouth and Dream immediately began to protest.

"No!! Ink, wait, please!! We can talk about this!!" He begged, his eyes wide. Blue yelped as Dream shoved him behind him. Ink finished the vial and sighed, his arms falling to his side. He loosely gripped his paintbrush in one hand while the empty vial slipped out of his fingers in the other. The clattering sound it made seemed unbelievably loud as it echoed around the dome. Ink was panting and his tongue, which had been white the entire time had red starting to bleed through it. Ink scoffed and gave that grin.

"Talk about it??" Now Ink's voice had some emotion to it, but none of it was the good kind. “You want to talk about it? Dream, that’s INCREDIBLE.” He sounded incredulous. He gave another short burst of laughter. “Dream, you used me. I mean, I suppose not since I knew from the beginning, but you used me to help play your silly little game with Nightmare!” He snickered and shrugged, his eyes changing to those glowing red rings. One began to morph into a target. “I figured if anyone would know how it felt to be used, it would be you.”

Immediately, Dream froze up and before he knew it, Blue had pushed in front of him. “Ink, I get you’re upset, but you know how Dream feels when it comes to stuff like that!!” Ink rolled his eyes and glared at him. “Ink, please-” Out of all the things that Blue was expecting, the sharpened bone crunching through his shoulder wasn’t one of them and the force of it knocked him back. He stared at the bone in shock and he looked back up at Ink, who had formed a few more. They hovered around him menacingly.

Dream was next to Blue’s side in an instant, but Blue was already trying to get up. “Ink-”

“Nothing YOU say matters to me. We replace you every time your AU goes through a Genocide Route. I didn’t care about anything you’d said the first time and I’m sure as fuck not gonna care now for the thousandth.” Ink said, practically spitting at him. The words cut deep and Blue’s voice got stuck in his throat. Dream was shaking and he got up to say something, but could only watch as more bones began to form behind Ink. “Dream, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but nothing you could say to me will change a damn thing.” Ink tipped his head with that condescending hum again. “I’ve grown bored of you.”

He turned. “I’ve grown bored of all these monsters in these AUs.” Immediately, Dream’s eyes widened and he formed his bow, but the ink had already hit him, constricting him and sending his bow clattering a bit away. He tried to reach it and Ink came over quietly. He tipped his head again and kicked the bow further from Dream. “I’m done playing with both of you.” He raised his hand, but before he could snap his fingers, there was a fizzling noise.

Ink’s head lifted, but he didn’t look over. Blue was shaking as he looked over at the glitching portal that had opened up. Both Error and Nightmare seemed unsure of the scene in front of them. This wasn’t good. Dream’s shoulders sank. Nightmare was going to get cocky, wasn’t he? He was going to get cocky and talk about how Dream had messed up. Maybe he’d invite Ink over to their side. He jumped as he heard a soft swear.

Both Error and Nightmare had gone into defensive positions. “F-F-Finally got it through his skull, I b-b-bet.” Error’s mutter to Nightmare should’ve been soft enough that only they could hear it. But this was the Doodlesphere. This was Ink’s domain and he could hear everything. Ink froze up and that smile cracked across his face as he turned to face them. He reached up, beginning to pick at his scarf as his brush clattered next to him.

“Finally??” Ink sounded delirious as he yanked the scarf down and exposed the inside of the part that was always bunched up around his neck. There were scrawled messages over and over of how he was not a Creator. How he was not a balance-keeper. “I’ve known since the start!! I’ve known it all since the start!” There was a glint as strings wrapped themselves around his throat, tightening into the swirled bone.

“Y-Y-You made a m-m-mistake showing your throat.” Error growled. Ink scoffed and finally burst out in laughter. It was loud and it echoed through the golden dome. It felt cold. It felt cold and empty and feverish. Ink managed to calm himself to giggling as ink began to bubble up from the ground around them.

“You made a mistake coming here. What a perfect time to break your way into MY territory.” The portal was being covered up and the ink was seeping towards them, sizzling as it moved along the ground. “It would be in your best interest to remember that I can’t die.” He teleported out of Error’s strings, drifting above them. He took them all in, seeming overjoyed. He hummed and tipped his head, feigning deep thought. “I mean, I guess I can die if people forget about me.” He mused. The side of his mouth quirked in amusement and he scoffed.

They were in danger. They were all in danger and they knew it. They were lambs in a lion den. Ink smiled, eyes glowing as more bones spiraled out behind him. His face was shifting and it was one they all recognized. Large, empty eyes and a haunting fanged grin. His features became scratchy, like someone had scribbled him and it was a terror to look at as he spoke in his feverishly delighted voice. “I may not be important, but I’m NOT going to be forgotten."

[smallrainclouds]

Hey part three! Um. So this all Hypnos' pov. Hope that okay. I will be mainly be switching between both Hypnos and the reader.

No beta.

🌙💤💤🌙

*Hypnos' pov*

It was hours later when Hypnos made his great escape. It would be few more hours before Charon will pass again with the dead.

He floated toward the bedchambers with a yawn. He had tried to find something Y/N could do, only to realize that he had no clue what Y/N did before she had came here.

Hypnos was ashamed to admit that once he gave her the tour, he thought she would just be happy with that.

He didn't know what to do with a wife especially with one who didn't quite fit in.

His mother's words still echoed his head. "You're her husband now." She sighed at him and he could just feel her disappointment in him grow. "You have a duty to her and one of those are to make Y/N feel at home."

Hypnos ran his hand though his curls and groaned. Just another failure to add on the list of his many failures. It was hard to be in the shadow of his twin, even Hades seem impressed by Thanatos.

And Hypnos knew that Thanatos outshine him in everything, he just wished their mother didn't make it seem so obvious.

A flicking light made him paused, wasn't that door normally closed?

It wasn't the bedchambers but it was close enough to give him concern. He really didn't like the idea of a stranger being so close to him or Y/N for that matter.

He readied a spell, his fingers twitched at the rush of power.

Quietly, he floated toward the door and looked inside.

The room was huge and lined with shelves and packed tightly with scrolls.

But those weren't what caught his eyes, it was the two lit candles on the floor that Y/N was sitting by. Y/N was bent over and quickly reading an scroll, the ribbon between her fingers.

Hypnos stared, almost unwillingly.

In the warm candlelight, she looked like a dream. Soft and not quite real. Her bun had sipped a little and loose stands of hair framed Y/N's face.

Hypnos knew Olympians were beautiful. He knew of the songs and stories. He even seen some of them a few times but to him, Y/N was something else.

He made a fist and canceled the spell.

Y/N looked upward when he came in the room. She gave him a nervous smile as she put down the scroll.

"I-" They both went to speak first, paused and Hypnos nodded toward her.

"I own you an apology." Y/N said, not quite looking at him.

Her fingers played with the ribbon. "I wasn't upset at you. I... Think I was feeling a little homesick and to be honest, I don't like the idea of not being helpful. It's a fault of mine."

She looked up, eyes on his. "So I'm sorry, Hypnos."

He felt a warmth in his chest when her eyes met his. And just as quickly, he squashed the feeling down.

"No, Its fine really. If anything, I own you one. I mean I shouldn't had thought you would be happy with nothing to do. Just because I can sleep the days away, doesn't mean everyone can." Hypnos said, hoping the knock at himself would help lightened the mood.

Y/N patted the spot on the floor next to her and feeling like a fool, Hypnos joined.

"Do you know what this room is?" Y/N asked.

"Oh this place? I think this is where we keep some of the epics or songs that been written down." Hypnos glaced at the scroll, "I'm not sure since I don't really go in here."

He looked at Y/N, "I don't think anyone has been here for quite some time."

"No, I agree. Look at the dust!" Y/N said with a little bit of a laugh.

He chuckled along, cursing himself for the flush of pleasure at Y/N's laugh.

"Hey, I have a question for you." He said. At her nod, he continued "What did you do before all this? Do you even have jobs or anything like that?"

"Oh. Yes, we are attendants or helpers of sorts. Most of my sisters work with Aphrodite or Dionysus. They been blessed with love, joy or goodwill. Because of this they give humans these gifts as well."

Y/N gave him a nervous look, her fingers played with ribbon again.

"I..well maybe it would be just easier to show you."

She dropped the ribbon and spread her hand over it.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then like a flower, a small fire bloomed from the ground.

"W-Whoa!" Hypnos yanked Y/N's hand away from the fire without even a thought. He quickly tried to use his own to kill the fire.

"Wait, this isn't hot." Hypnos murmured. He left his hand the still moving fire. "But its look so real."

"Hallucinations. That is what I've been blessed with, if one can call it that." Y/N sighed.

Using her hand again, she stopped the illusion.

All was left was a single red ribbon.

"That is amazing." Hypnos grinned. Until he saw the look on Y/N's face.

"Not much use though, mainly the gods would use it for tricking humans. I've mainly worked with Hermes or Dionysus but I helped all of the gods at some time or another." Y/N shook her head.

"So I did a little bit of everything. My sisters were more useful so I just tried to fill in the gaps."

Silent took over the room. Hypnos tried to think of what to say. This was just more proof of the foolishness of the Olympians. Of her family.

"Your powers seem way more more useful than anything your sisters have." Hypnos said bluntly.

He tried not to wince at the frown she gave him.

"Humans lives are ruled by what they understand. It doesn't how long they lived or how they died." Hypnos lean toward Y/N, willing her beautiful eyes to meet his own. "They only know what they can see and touch. The fact you could so easily take that away from them... Even gods can be fooled just like humans because of this power you have. You're stronger than what your family realize or even yourself."

Y/N looked stunned at his words. Looking away from him, her fingers took the ribbon off the ground.

"I..." She bit her lip.

"I'm sorry." Hypnos said quietly but not moving away. "I overstepped my bounds. I mean no insult to you or your family."

"None taken." Y/N said quickly. "I think I would like to retire for the night. Or day. If that okay with you, Hypnos."

"Of course." Hypnos floated upward and offered his hand to Y/N who after a moment accepted.

They made their way to the bedchambers in silent. Not looking nor touching each other.

Hypnos wondered if he should even say anything else after his mistake. They stopped in front of their bedchamber.

Y/N looked up at him. "I enjoyed our talk. And... Thank you for the kind words even if they were a bit blunt."

She stepped into her chamber.

"Good night, Hypnos."

"Good night, Y/N."

[blossom-hwa]

Skipping Stones - KEVIN

This was the second full scenario I ever finished for The Boyz and I think it was pretty nice to start with some soft Kevin :D THANK YOU KAI FOR LETTING ME YELL TO YOU ABOUT THIS ONE I HOPE IT LIVES UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS. 

Anyway! Happy (slightly early but only by a couple hours??) birthday to one of the best boys in the world, the one and only wonderful beautiful lovely Kevin Moon! I hope you all enjoy this <3 please reblog if you did!

Pairing: Kevin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, teacher!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 7.8k

Falling in love with you, Kevin thinks, is a bit like skipping stones. 

Alternatively:

Five times Kevin felt himself falling deeper in love with you, and the one time he knew he was gone.

TBZ Masterlist | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

prelude.

Kevin knows he exists to be clowned. His sister says it’s something about his face – there’s something undeniably meme-y about his reactions, apparently, that makes him very clownable. His students tell him it’s in his demeanor – he comes off as pretty chill, according to them, which makes him easy to tease because they know he’ll react in some hilarious way, but it won’t affect him too deeply.

(Changmin just says he’s stupid, which makes him clownable to the highest degree, but Kevin refuses to take information from the teacher who still scares him every other week with whichever horror movie mask has recently caught his fancy.)

So Kevin knows he’s just a clownable human being, and he’s resigned himself to that fate for the rest of his life. But around you? His calm, collected, hilarious, wonderful partner? He expected a little less clownery and a little more loving.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, trying to get Kevin to turn around. Honestly, he’s already feeling the effects of withdrawal from not seeing your smile for more than a few minutes, but he refuses to budge, lips curved downwards in a semi-permanent pout. He knows he won’t be able to keep this up for long (he’ll miss looking at your face too much, and really, he can’t be mad at you about anything), but he can make a scene. “Kevin!”

“You’re so mean,” he whines, still resisting your efforts to make him look at you. “I just poured out a very embarrassing part of my childhood to you and instead of comforting me, you laugh?” His pout deepens. “I don’t know why we’re dating.”

Your hands leave the back of his shoulders. For a second, Kevin thinks you’ve given up and he’s about to start whining about that too, but then you appear in front of him, fingers clasped placatingly. “All right, all right, Kevin.” Still grinning, you grab his hands. “I won’t tease anymore. But seriously, how could you expect me not to laugh my ass off when you told me you learned to skip stones for the –” you make jazz hands, presumably to emphasize your point – “aesthetic?”

Kevin sticks his lip out childishly. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” he mumbles.

“It’s not, not really.” You squeeze his hands. “But it’s a move that’s got Kevin Moon stamped all over it.” As if to accentuate your point, you snort. “Of course you’d learn to skip stones for the aesthetic.”

“Y/N,” he whines.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Your teasing grin melts into an eager smile. “Hey, teach me?”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

It feels like Kevin’s physically crumbling to pieces with the way your hopeful voice and sparkling eyes just attack him from all angles. Grudgingly, the deep pout on his lips stretches into a smile, the starstruck smile that all of his friends like to tease him for. “Fine, let’s go.”

He spends the rest of the afternoon stepping around small children and younger couples, trying to find suitable rocks for skipping and teaching you the right angles, the right stance, the right way to hold the stone in your hand before sending it into the water. You learn fast, something he envies – where it took him at least a couple of weeks to perfect the art, you (mostly) pick it up in a matter of hours – but he can’t feel too jealous or too bad when you look up at him after your stone skips once on the water. “Kevin, I did it!” You shake him slightly. “Did you see that?”

The softest smile spreads across Kevin’s face as he kisses your forehead softly “Yeah, I did.”

When he pulls away, you give him the brightest grin before scrambling away to find more stones to skip. Kevin just watches, taking in the way your figure looks against the setting sun, bright gold and pale pink light streaming over your body, almost making you glow.

This is why he fell in love with you, he thinks. Your character, your tenacity, the way you throw yourself into every task you’ve been assigned so that you can complete it as best as you can. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to treat a new cancer case at the hospital or trying to skip a stupid rock across the water. You always give it your all.

Idly, Kevin picks up a stone of his own. With a practiced flick of his wrist, it goes sailing onto the lake, skipping three, four, five times before sinking beneath the surface.

Falling in love with you is a bit like skipping stones, he thinks, watching the stone disappear from sight. Someone had to force him into that first blind date with you, much like making the first toss of the stone into the water, but every skip after that was quick, effortless, the way he felt himself falling for you, step by stumbling step, until his heart finally gave in and sank below the waves of your warmth.

It’s hard to imagine a time when he wasn’t in love with you, even though such a time did at one point exist. But the way you make him feel with the smallest things you do – the way you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, the way you rest your chin on your hand in thought – it feels like he’s known you for an eternity and loved you even longer, loved you before time existed.

Your stone skips twice across the water and you shout with joy, racing up to Kevin to celebrate. He catches you when you leap at him, arms wrapping around your waist automatically, smiling into your shining face. Yes, he thinks, he’s in love.

He’s so in love with you.

. . . . .

i.

Kevin, by all definitions of the word, is panicking.

He’s been dreading this blind date for almost a month now, circling the day on his calendar and marking it D-Day, begging Jacob and Changmin to come along and hide in case he needs to be bailed out, relentlessly praying that he’ll be able to leave the stupid date in one piece.

(Look, as much as he appreciates Mrs. Park’s kindness and her brownies, she can be… a little overbearing. To say the least.)

Just a few hours ago, he was putting on his yellow sweater and bemoaning the existence of his pushy coworker. Just a few hours ago, he was lamenting his fate to his two friends (friends is a term he will use loosely for today – all they did was laugh at him). Just a few hours ago, he was cursing the existence of Mrs. Park and her brownies for getting him locked into this date with her sister’s kid. Wait, was it her sister? Or her brother?

(“Yes, her sister,” Changmin says, rolling his eyes. “Pay more attention, won’t you, Kev?”

Kevin groans. “Why couldn’t either of you be chosen by Mrs. Park, huh? Why me?”

“Because I have a partner and Jacob is good at disappearing.” Changmin grins that evil, evil grin he always has on just before he’s about to execute a prank on someone (usually Kevin).

“More like the two of you are good at leaving me to fend for myself against Mrs. Park, even though you know I can’t say no to shit,” Kevin grumbles.

“Give up her brownies,” Jacob suggests.

Kevin gasps. “No way in hell.”)

But now, he’s actually sitting across from you in a café not too far from his apartment, holding a cup of coffee between his (visibly shaking) hands. And he can’t even think of why he was dreading this date so much because you’re just… really, really perfect.

Why are you so sweet? he’s screaming inside. Why are you so funny? Why are you literally the perfect mix of snark and kindness and just – everything?

“So my aunt told me you work with her,” you say, seemingly oblivious to Kevin’s jitters. The smile on your face is really sending electricity racing through his heart. “I know the children must be fun, but I know she can be a bit… overbearing.” There’s a hint of apology in your eyes, like you know your aunt must have pressured him into this and you’re sorry that he had to come on a date with you.

Kevin’s stomach flip-flops. Okay, so Mrs. Park maybe did severely pressure and sweetly blackmail Kevin into a blind date. But Kevin also doesn’t want you to feel bad for it because it’s not your fault at all, so as usual, when he finds himself in a tight spot, his mouth decides it’s time to run.

“No, your aunt is really nice,” he starts. “I really mean it – she’s always very kind to the kids and to the rest of us teachers. I’m still kind of new compared to the rest of them – I’ve only been at the school for a few years now – but she helped me feel welcome that first year when I was still figuring things out. And she also likes Beyonce! You know, the greatest female artist there is? She let me play my entire playlist of Beyonce songs for her last year and she liked every single one of them!”

Kevin’s babbling now. Rambling. Whatever he wants to call it. His brain is screaming for him to stop talking but his mouth won’t stop running because this is what he does when he’s nervous. He talks. Endlessly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the table where Changmin and Jacob are situated in case they need to rescue him from mental or physical harm. The top of Changmin’s head is barely visible behind a huge menu so Kevin can barely see his friend, but somewhere in his babbling haze, he notices a phone camera poking out from behind the menu.

If he wasn’t blushing before, he definitely is now.

Finally, his mouth listens to his brain and he trails off on his last thought on why Beyonce is the best artist in the entire world. There’s a second of silence.

“Sorry,” Kevin finally squeaks. “I… tend to ramble when I get nervous. Or when I talk about Beyonce.”

Your smile flashes even wider. Kevin is torn between wanting to melt into the ground out of embarrassment and staying upright to keep seeing that grin on your face. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you laugh, fiddling with your cup of coffee. “I thought it was cute.”

Kevin’s face burns so much that he misses what you say next. “Sorry?”

You grin. “I’m always interested in hearing about a new artist to add to my playlist.”

Kevin lets out a theatrical gasp. “You don’t have Beyonce in your music library?”

A sheepish look spreads across your face. “… No?”

“Oh my God.” Kevin pulls out his phone. “Okay, I’m about to educate you on the artist of our time.”

The afternoon, then, passes in a flash. Changmin and Jacob eventually just up and exit the café (presumably with enough blackmail to last the rest of Kevin’s life – he knows he was acting like a complete fool, but luckily, you didn’t seem to care), leaving him alone with you. Under any other circumstances, he probably would’ve started crying, but you’re so sweet and so interesting that Kevin thinks he could stay and talk to you in this café forever.

He learns you’re an oncologist at a nearby children’s hospital, that even though the work is hard and tiring and sometimes overwhelmingly depressing, the strength of the children and the families you work with inspire you to keep going every day. He learns that you don’t have too much of a sweet tooth (though you won’t say no to ice cream or cheesecake, both of which he notes in his head), he learns that you love coffee, and he learns that you like to take walks in the park whenever you have a little bit of free time.

He also learns that you’re snarky, intelligent, driven, hardworking. He learns that you’re something far beyond the beauty of your face – that underneath your skin, there’s a heart that’s warmer than the sun.

Kevin understands that this is only the first date and that he maybe shouldn’t be making judgments so quickly. But he’s been told that he’s a relatively good judge of character, and the genuine look in your eyes when you talks speaks volumes about the person deep inside.

Even though you live further away, Kevin takes the bus with you to your home, citing that it’s only polite to walk one’s date to the door (in reality, he just wants to spend a little more time with you). As the bus rattles along the road, Kevin lets you listen to the songs on his phone, delighting in the way your head bobs to the beat of his favorite tracks.

Kevin’s a bit sad when you reach your apartment, sad that your time together is over for the day. He lingers outside the building for a moment, trying to work up the courage to ask about a second date.

Suddenly, you lean forward. Kevin jerks back – he briefly wonders if you’re trying to kiss him – but you just pat a spot on his sweater, frowning slightly at your fingers. “Is that… paint?”

Oh my God.

Kevin tugs the material of his sweater forward so he can see the spot you’re pointing at. Sure enough, there’s a small patch of red paint on the yellow fuzz. He groans. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Well, that’s what people like us get for working with children.” You roll your eyes comically, and Kevin bursts into laughter that’s definitely too loud for the small joke you made. Then silence falls again.

You break it. “Listen, Kevin.”

He perks up. “Hmm?”

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this date because my aunt has been trying to set me up with people my age for several years now.” For the first time today, you look shy. “She was probably really pushy with you too, so I’m sorry about that. But I really enjoyed this afternoon.” You meet Kevin’s eyes. “If you’d like, I’d love to go on a second date.”

Kevin’s heart explodes. It really does. Sheer excitement courses through his veins, and he has to stop himself from smiling widely enough to mimic a god damn clown. “I’d love that,” he says trying to hide how eager he really is. “Um, I’ll say that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this either, mostly because my experience with blind dates has had… limited success. But I’m really glad I met you. You’re a wonderful person.”

Your smile grows wider at Kevin’s admission. “Thank you, Kevin. You’re wonderful too.”

“Do you kiss on the first date?” he blurts out because his brain has no filter. Then he backtracks. “Um, it’s totally okay if you don’t, I was just asking, please don’t think I’m a creep –”

You briefly press your lips to his. Kevin shuts up.

When you break away, Kevin honestly thinks you’re glowing. “Does that answer your question?” you ask, bravely trying to hide something – is that embarrassment? Whatever it is, he thinks it’s adorable.

Kevin blushes. “Yes.”

People probably think he’s insane with the way he’s smiling on the bus ride back to his apartment. He can’t help it, though – the tingling touch of your lips, gentle against his, plays over and over in his mind, along with memories of your lovely voice and your lovely smile and your lovely, lovely disposition. Some people are giving him weird looks, and Jacob and Changmin are sure to tease him to no end when he comes in to work tomorrow.

But who cares? Kevin’s got a second date in the works with one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met.

In his mind, he’s on top of the world.

. . . . .

ii.

Usually, when Kevin gets lucky and scores a second date or a third, he suggests taking his date somewhere with children to gauge how they feel about small toddlers tearing up the place. Children are a huge part of Kevin’s life – he teaches elementary school and knows he wants kids when he gets a bit older – so one of the silent standards he’s set for potential significant others is that they have to like and be good with children.

You work at a children’s hospital, Kevin knows, so you must at least be good with kids, even if you might not like them (hey, it’s possible – Kevin has known many people who are good at things they hate). That fulfills half of the standard. He just needs to gauge the other half.

There aren’t many events at the school coming up, though – no plays, no art exhibitions, nothing he can really invite you to. He’s racking his brains for a third date somehow involving children when you unexpectedly call him about an event at the hospital.

“I know it’s last minute,” you apologize profusely, “but the guy who was supposed to come today for the kids’ music hour called in sick. I don’t want to cancel the event because they always look forward to it and I know you play the piano – would it be possible for you to fill in?”

It is possible, it turns out. He may not be able to pack his Yamaha upright into the back of your car, but he does have an electronic keyboard that fits into your trunk. The whole way there, you’re apologizing, but between reassurances that it’s totally fine, Kevin can’t help but anticipate how you’ll act around the children once the two of you arrive.

Setting up takes more time than he’d like (the extension cord that comes with his keyboard is too short, so you disappear on a twenty-minute manhunt for a longer one while Kevin just stands there awkwardly), which makes him feel slightly like a burden on the rest of your coworkers. They’re so polite, though, so genuine and kind, that Kevin eventually starts to feel more at ease.

(He’s still endlessly grateful when you return, extension cord clasped victoriously in one hand.)

Then the kids start trickling in, and Kevin’s heart immediately both breaks and melts. Some are in wheelchairs, others have lost their hair, but they’re all smiling with so much excitement, chattering to their parents and the staff around them as they settle on beanbags and pillows on the floor. Several look at him curiously and he smiles at them, prompting several questions about who he is, why there’s a keyboard and not a guitar, and why the normal guy isn’t here.

“The usual guy got sick and couldn’t come,” Kevin says to one sweet girl with chubby cheeks and shining eyes. “I’m just here to replace him for a day.”

“Do you play the piano?” she asks, shyly pointing at the keyboard, which more than a few curious souls are standing around.

Kevin smiles. “Yes, I do.” He would say more, maybe offer to show her the instrument a little, but then you’re walking over, and her eyes brighten. “Dr. L/N!” she cheers.

With a loud laugh, you swoop her up carefully, cradling the girl against your shoulder. “How are you, Daeun?” you ask, lips spread in a smile that Kevin knows can’t be faked.

The girl – Daeun – grins. “I’ve been good!” she announces proudly. “Are we going to start soon?”

You laugh again, settling her back down on the floor. Kevin thinks his heart melts with the way your eyes sparkle. “Yes, we are,” you say. “I see you’ve already met Kevin?”

“Your name is Kevin?” Daeun looks at him curiously. “Your name is strange.”

Kevin has to force himself not to coo. “I was born in Canada,” he says. “My Korean name is Hyungseo.”

Daeun’s nose scrunches. “I like Kevin more,” she decides with finality.

Kevin feels brave enough to pat her on the head. “Then you can call me Kevin.”

“All right, Daeun. Go find your mom, okay? Kevin and I are going to finish setting up, and then we’ll get started.” With a soft kiss on the forehead (Kevin makes a sound he really hopes you don’t hear – the scene is just too adorable), you send the small girl off, turning back to Kevin. “Shall we get started?” you ask, grinning widely.

It may only be the third date, but he’s falling in love, Kevin thinks, falling in love with your shining face and sparkling eyes, with the way you shower love upon the children you’ve placed under your care. Right now, you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a future partner – beautiful in character, kind, gentle, fiercely loving.

His heart pounds a little faster.

Belatedly, Kevin realizes you’re waiting for a response and nods quickly. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes glancing over the sea of children waiting (somewhat) patiently. A smile to rival yours spreads across his face. “Let’s get started.”

. . . . .

iii.

Kevin loves the last Friday of every month, he really does. It’s been tradition for several years now to go out with Changmin and Jacob on what he calls nights for “the boyz” to eat cheap food and get drunk. And no matter how much the others complain about the stupid name (Kevin will admit it sounds stupid now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll change it), he knows they enjoy the nights all the same.

Sometimes, though, Kevin just wishes he had more of a filter on his mouth. If not that, then maybe his brain could stop remembering every single dumb thing he said or did on drunk nights out. It would make his life a lot easier if he could just forget being stupid.

But no, God decided to be mean when making Kevin Moon. So Kevin, as a result, is an emotional drunk. He cries a lot when he hears about sad or adorable things, he says a lot of stupid stuff to (badly) express his overwhelming feelings, and worst of all, he remembers all of it when he wakes up hungover the next morning.

(None of this stops him from getting drunk anyway. Kevin Moon doesn’t learn lessons when it comes to alcohol. When he falls on his face (sometimes literally), he just gets up again, even if it’s with a bloody nose.)

Luckily, the night doesn’t end in chaos. Even though Jacob, who’s half of Kevin’s impulse control, leaves after an hour (he’s meeting with his family the next day, so Kevin is obligated call him a noob – it’s like a law of physics or something), Changmin doesn’t seem to be in the mood to do weird things without Jacob there to stop him, so the night passes relatively smoothly without Kevin throwing, like, a tantrum or anything.

He gets close, though. Because damn, if Changmin isn’t so fucking adorable when talking about his partner. Buried in his purple hoodie, black hair peeking softly over the top, it’s impossible for Kevin not to tear up when Changmin begins gushing over his beautiful, amazing, wonderful significant other whom he just compared to stardust.

Stardust.

Kevin wants to scream, that’s so romantic.

When you come to pick him and Changmin up, Kevin can’t resist relaying all of this to you as soon as he gets in the car. Vaguely, he thinks he should be worried about Changmin hearing it and hitting him, but the boy is mostly asleep in the back, eyes only fluttering slightly when you go over a bump or something. After Changmin gets dropped off at his apartment, Kevin turns the gushing on full force.

“Y/N, the love of my life, he called her stardust,” he’s still babbling even as you strongarm him up to his own apartment. “He’s so adorable. Changmin is so adorable. Oh my God.”

He thinks you snort. Probably. It would be a normal response. “Didn’t you call him the spawn of Satan just a few days ago?”

Definitely a snort, Kevin thinks, but he’s too invested in Changmin’s loveliness to whine about you making fun of him. “Y/N,” he pouts instead, “listen to meeeeee.”

“I’m listening, I’m listening.” You grunt, catching him just as he misses the next step and almost falls forward. “Hey, be careful.”

“’M trying.” Kevin manfully does his best to stop the world from tilting on its side. “But Changminnie.”

“Yes, yes, Changminnie.” Even drunk, Kevin can make out the playful exasperation in your voice. “Keep going.”

“Thank you, love of my life.” Kevin tries to give you a kiss but his lips hit air instead of your cheek. “Heck.”

You burst into loud laughter. “Kevin Moon, you never told me you were this adorable when drunk.”

“Changminnie,” he says more insistently.

“Okay, yes, I’m listening.” You kiss his cheek instead, and Kevin almost topples over right then and there. “Hey, you can’t fall over whenever I kiss you. Tell me about Changmin.”

Kevin starts flailing his arms around as best he can. “He’s so cute!” he half-yells. “He told me his partner was like stardust because she’s so perfect and warm, but she’s also like stardust because… because…”

His lip juts out.

“Oh, no, don’t cry, Kev.” You stop moving, then Kevin registers you bundling him into a hug, patting his head. “I know you’re a sad emotional drunk, but don’t cry.”

“Not crying,” Kevin protests, visibly crying.

“Mhm.” You pat his head one last time before letting go. “Hey, give me a second, I’m going to unlock your door.”

There’s some fumbling and a quiet snick, then Kevin obediently follows you through the door of his apartment. Once inside, you press a thumb to the side of his face, brushing a tear away. “Tell me what Changmin said to make you sad.”

“Changminnie said he’s afraid she’ll… she’ll… slip away between his fingers. Like stardust.” Kevin feels like he’s going to start sobbing any moment now. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him eventually because she’s too perfect and he’s not good enough.”

“Oh my God.” You sit down on the couch. Kevin follows suit, albeit a lot more ungracefully as he collapses onto a cushion in a tangle of limbs. “Oh my God, that’s so sad and cute at the same time.”

“I said he should call her his star,” Kevin mumbles, turning slightly so he can burrow into your side. “Because stardust. Texted them about it. Both of them.”

Your laugh sounds like music even to the drunken haze of his brain. “Wonder what they’ll think when they see a drunken keysmash on their phones first thing tomorrow morning.”

The two of you sit in silence for a bit. Kevin feels his eyes beginning to get droopy, and he almost falls asleep before a thought strikes him with lightning force.

“I need to give you a nickname!” he almost yells, sitting bolt upright. The movement makes the room spin, but he doesn’t care. This is urgent. “Changmin’s going to call her his star, but I haven’t given you a nickname yet!”

“Kev, Kev.” You hold him by the shoulders, and he relaxes a little. “You can come up with a nickname for me in the morning. Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

“No,” he whines, shifting in your grip. “This is important. You need a nickname.” He sinks into deep, drunken thoughts, the kinds of thoughts he has when he ignores everything around him in favor of getting philosophical after having drunk too much alcohol.

Then it hits him.

“Oh my God,” he gasps. “Oh my God.” It’s his turn to grab you by the shoulders, now. “Oh my God. You’re the sun. Because I’m the moon. Get it? Kevin Moon?”

Through his drunken haze, Kevin thinks he sees you smile, maybe. It looks like a smile.

Your eyes are sparkling. You look happy.

Probably a smile.

“I’m a genius,” he whispers. A genius for coming up with the nickname and for making you happy.

“Sure, Kevin.” You grunt a little as he shifts his weight. “Come on, get up. We’ll see if you’re still a genius tomorrow if you wake up and remember all of this.”

Kevin doesn’t register much for the rest of the night, just remembers falling into his bed and forcing you to lie down next to him. The next morning, he wakes up with a throbbing headache and the vague, ever-present worry that he said something stupid last night.

You’re not in the bed with him anymore. Kevin blinks once, twice, before trying to sit up so to figure out where you went. Then he remembers you don’t live here. You probably went home.

Which is why he nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you appear in his doorway, holding a mug of coffee and a glass of water.

For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. Kevin’s not sure what thoughts are running through your head, but he knows he’s trying to piece together what happened last night, and whether or not he should be hiding under the covers out of embarrassment.

Then it hits him.

Sun.

Moon.

Genius.

Oh, God.

Kevin wants to die.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, using your new nickname in the desperate hope that it’ll distract you from remembering the rest of what he said last night.

A catlike smirk curls your lips as you walk over, pressing the glass of water into his hands. A feeling of dread fills Kevin’s heart as he takes it.

“Morning, genius,” you say with enough evil delight to power Changmin for a year.

Kevin groans. “I was drunk.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Your teasing smile melts into something gentler as you place your mug on the bedside table, turning to bring the glass of water in his hands to his lips. “Coffee’s mine, don’t touch it or I’ll break a bone. Drink the water. I made some breakfast, so come into the kitchen whenever you feel up to it. After you’ve brushed your teeth.”

Warmth courses through Kevin’s body, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol from last night and everything to do with how you’re here in body and mind, sweetly helping him recover from a stupid hangover even when it’s definitely not your problem to take care of and you probably have better things to do. His heart thumps, loud enough that he thinks you could probably hear it.

In this moment, Kevin doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for anything than you coming into his life.

“Got it.” He awkwardly tries to salute, but he does it with the hand holding the glass and the water nearly spills onto the bed. As his cheeks flush, you break into snorting giggles.

Even though it’s at his expense, Kevin thinks he would do anything, anything in the world, to keep that wonderful smile on your face and that musical laughter in the air.

. . . . .

iv.

Only when you move in together does Kevin realize just how taxing your job is. He had an idea from when you sometimes had to cancel or move around dates, but when you did meet up, you were usually energetic and cheerful. Of course, there were the token dates where you just came over to Kevin’s apartment or he came over to yours and you just flopped around for a few hours. Outside, though, you always showed a bright face.

But that was because dates were mostly on your days off or when your hours were short, and as a result, you felt good enough, energized enough to show Kevin your brilliant smile. When you first moved in together, Kevin felt a bit surprised – well, maybe not surprised, but saddened – that you didn’t have the energy to smile as brightly as he saw before.

It’s fine by Kevin, though. You smile often enough, and if your teeth don’t show as much as they used to, there’s something beautiful, something calming and sweet in the slower curve of your lips, the gentle, lethargic way you lean up for a kiss. After all, Kevin has enough energy to compensate for when you might lack some of yours.

(It helps that he can cook, he thinks. Even when the kids at school sometimes wear him out, the brief sparkle in your eye that spreads across your lips when you walk through the door to see him stirring something on the stove is more than enough to make up for it.)

You’re cute, too, when you’re tired. Though Kevin loves it when you’re energetic and ready for whatever the day has decided to throw in your path, there’s something so peaceful, so pleasant about feeling you lying lethargically against his side on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book or just resting, doing nothing but breathing softly. Kevin cherishes those small moments, the soft atmosphere where he kisses your hair and you smile, reach up, and press a kiss of your own to his cheek.

Tonight is one of those nights, a night of soft, comforting silence, words few and far between. It’s been a bit warm lately, so Kevin’s elected to wear one of the tank tops he keeps for the warmer months instead of his usual sweater.

You sit next to him on the couch, back pressed to his side as you send off emails on your phone. Kevin’s working too, inputting grades on his laptop. He hums a little under his breath to take his mind off of the monotony of his task.

At some point, you finish, putting down your phone with a sigh and slumping into his ribs. Kevin starts at the sudden movement. “Sunshine,” he whines, even though he could really care less.

“Moon boy,” you parrot in the same tone of voice.

Kevin’s attention turns back to his laptop, so he barely registers you shifting on the couch to a new position. He does notice it, though, when your fingers start trailing along his skin, exposed by the lack of sleeves on his tank top, because your touch tickles.

You completely ignore his resulting twitch of surprise, only keep tracing the skin of his rib cage. Kevin looks down, confused as to what’s caught your attention.

Oh. His tattoos.

“Sunshine?” he asks softly, watching your fingers shift along his skin.

“Mm,” you hum, eyes still fixated on the ink decorating his side.

“Sleepy?”

Slowly, you shake your head, fingers paused on the image of Mickey Mouse. “Not yet.”

He goes back to inputting grades, all the while still aware of your fingers tracing the lines, the curls, the swirls of black ink along his side. When he finishes, he looks over before closing his laptop to see your eyes still focused on his skin.

Something in his heart explodes, spreading a tingly, comforting warmth throughout his body. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with your presence, a feeling of absolute security, absolute trust, absolute warmth that comes with falling in love with you.

You look up, noticing his lack of movement. “Finished, moonbeams?”

“First moon boy, now moonbeams?” Kevin teases you lightly, picking up the hand you were using to trace his skin and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Just like every other time he’s ever done it, a wide smile spreads across your face and a shyness sparkles in your eyes, as though you still can’t believe the bliss of the moment.

(At least, that’s what Kevin feels every time you do something to remind him that he’s yours.)

Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Can’t call you moonshine, that’s an alcohol.” You shrug as best as you can in your stretched-out position. “Moonbeams, moon boy… whatever feels right.”

Kevin puts his laptop on the coffee table. As he leans back into the couch, you curl up into him, one hand still lingering against the Mickey Mouse tattoo on his side. “Tell me about these?” you ask, pressing your fingers a bit more firmly against the ink.

His tattoos are personal, serving as reminders of the past and inspiration to keep moving. Rarely does he share their meanings with anyone (not that people usually ask, because the tattoos are mostly covered by his clothes), and only with those who mean the world to him.

Kevin thinks you qualify as one of them.

Touching your shoulders, he turns you around slightly, just enough to press a short, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Of course, sunshine.” He smiles, gazing into your eyes, feeling the warmth of your love travel through his limbs. “Which one first?”

. . . . .

v.

Kevin Moon, for the majority of his life, has hovered in between being classified as a morning person or a night owl. Yes, he gets up at six in the morning for a cup of coffee, but he also stays up past midnight doing… stuff. Grading, writing reports, watching cat videos, wasting time.

(When Changmin judges his lifestyle, Kevin just reminds him that he fell in love with his roommate’s hookup and is on a dance team with the parent of one of his students.)

Honestly, if Kevin didn’t remind himself every so often that he’s currently a full adult, his lifestyle would make him think he was still in college. He certainly still acts like it when he isn’t working. Procrastinating? Check. Crying over reports he needs to submit at three a.m.? Check. Flopping around on the floor when life is going badly? Check.

And most importantly: nonexistent sleep schedule? Check.

You put a stop to that real quick when you move in, both directly and indirectly. Directly, you make an appointment for him at a sleep clinic after figuring out his shitty sleep patterns, and Kevin finds out he probably has mild insomnia. The aftermath is horrible – you put him on a strict sleep schedule and all but ban caffeine from his diet (goodbye, morning coffee) – but it helps, after a couple of weeks. He sleeps better. Perks of having a partner who works in medicine.

Indirectly, though, you probably make a bigger difference.

See, the way Kevin thinks about it, he just never had a lot of reasons to stay in bed very long. Even though he appreciates sleep, really appreciates it on long days, it’s just that he can’t really force it if it doesn’t want to come. He’d also rather be doing something productive (or not productive, depends on the asker’s perspective) than lying awake for hours, anyway.

But now that he’s waking up to a face he loves?

Well, even if you sometimes disappear before he wakes (hospital hours are whack as hell, but sadly, you can’t ignore your job), Kevin will just say your warmth is a powerful incentive to stay huddled under the covers, even if he can’t fall back asleep.

He still wakes up every morning to grey light beginning to peek through the window. No matter how hard he tries to sleep in just a little longer, his body can’t seem to stay unconscious past six in the morning, so both of you have just resigned yourselves to the fact that Kevin will always be an early riser.

Before you walked into his life, he would’ve rolled out of bed almost immediately, stumbled to the bathroom (and maybe knocked his knee against the doorframe, who knows), then started brewing coffee in the kitchen to start the day.

Now?

A drowsy smile begins to make its way across Kevin’s face, soft as the morning light, when his brain catches up to the present and he registers your warmth under the covers. Sleepily, he blinks, taking in the sight of your peaceful face buried halfway in the sheets.

You shouldn’t look this beautiful, Kevin thinks, not with your hair strewn all over the pillow, blankets rumpled around your shoulders, arms outstretched so that one sort of curls over his body while the other is held up to your chest. It’s the morning – no one should look pretty and put-together. That isn’t natural.

(Unless you happy to be Kim Younghoon, but that’s another story.)

Yet you somehow look like a sleeping deity in Kevin’s mind, even with your hair a mess and drool drying on the pillowcase. As the drowsiness clears from his eyes, as the light from the window grows brighter, Kevin can barely even think of moving, of disturbing your peace.

He dislikes your alarm. It’s loud, annoying, and hits him with a jolt when he’s just trying to take these stolen morning moments to admire your beauty. When he complains about it the first time, you tell him to serve as the alarm, to wake you up himself.

Kevin counters that he’s an artist, that he needs peace and quiet to give beauty of such a degree the respect it deserves. You just roll your eyes, telling him that if he isn’t going to wake you up, the alarm’s going to have to take that job. The smile on your face, though, and the brief kiss you press to his lips right after, speaks volumes for the emotions Kevin’s words make you feel.

(He loves flustering you like this, even if you pretend his words don’t make you feel some sort of way.)

So eventually, you wake, eyes fluttering as the alarm brings you back to the conscious plane. Kevin’s heart feels like it’s bursting when your eyes fully open, blearily blinking at the world.

“Morning, sunshine,” he whispers, running one hand through your hair.

You lean slightly into the touch, the corners of your lips twitching up. And every day, as he stares into your sleepy eyes, lips curling as you whisper a quiet “Morning, moon boy” in reply, Kevin knows he’s falling, falling in love with every part of you.

. . . . .

+i.

Kevin’s waiting in front of the school when you pull up at the curb. Smiling apologetically, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek as you step out of the car. “Sorry, sunshine.” He gestures at the two small boys standing beside him, absorbed in their own world. “Their uncle’s running late and Changmin and Jacob have things to do, so I need to wait for Sangyeon to pick them up before we can go.”

“No worries.” You return the kiss, smiling as bright as the sun. Kevin feels a flash of pride for coming up with a nickname that fits you so well. “We have the whole afternoon, don’t we?”

“That, we do.” He grins, squeezing your hand.

“Mr. Moon, who’s that?” a small voice asks closer to the ground. The two of you turn to see Sunwoo and Eric trotting over, curious looks on their faces.

Kevin looks over at you, but you’re already bending down to get to eye level with the two boys. “Oh, hello!” Your grin, if possible, grows wider. “I’m Y/N, Kevin’s significant other. What are your names?”

“I’m Eric,” Eric pipes up. “This is my brother, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo just stares with round eyes. Well, he’s always been the shyer of the two.

“Those are lovely names,” you reply smoothly, giving Sunwoo an encouraging smile. Kevin feels his heart melt completely at how well you interact with the kids. “I’m just going to be waiting with Kevin until your uncle picks you up, is that okay?”

The two kids nod and immediately go back to babbling in their own little world. Kevin notices the fond smile on your face, and his heart melts even more.

“They’re so cute,” you whisper to him.

“I know, right?” Kevin clutches his heart dramatically. “Can you imagine teaching them every day?”

Just as you’re shaking your head in comic disbelief, another car pulls up behind yours. A harried-looking young man quickly exits and Eric and Sunwoo cheer, distracted by the arrival of their uncle.

“Sorry about this,” Sangyeon says, absentmindedly patting Eric’s head as the boy hugs his leg. Sunwoo seems to be attempting to climb onto his uncle’s back. “Traffic wasn’t the kindest when I was getting out of work.” Then he notices you. “Oh, hello. Are you Kevin’s partner?”

“That I am.” You stick out a hand. “I’m Y/N, and I’ve been told you’re Sangyeon?”

Sangyeon nods, smiling. “Nice to meet you. And to see that Kevin’s found someone to deal with his antics.”

Kevin blushes as you laugh. “Hey,” he complains. “No jokes at my expense, please.”

“Sure, moonbeams.” You roll your eyes, then turn back to Sangyeon. “It’s nice to meet you. Your nephews are adorable.”

The smile that Sangyeon gives the two boys clambering around him says it all. “They are, aren’t they?” He checks his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go now. My sister’s expecting us back soon, and I’m already a bit late.”

Kevin breathes a sigh of relief. No more teasing at his expense from Sangyeon, at least, though there’s no guarantee from you. “Nice seeing you, Sangyeon. And have a good day, kids.”

A small chorus of “You too, Mr. Moon!” sounds, and Kevin expects that to be the end. Sangyeon will herd the boys into the car, Kevin will follow you into yours, and then you’ll go your separate ways. What he doesn’t expect is for Sunwoo to look out at you from behind his uncle’s leg, round eyes cautiously curious, and ask you a question.

“Y/N?”

Immediately, you turn around, teasing smirk melting into a gentle smile for the small boy. “Yes, Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo’s eyes dart between you and Kevin. Then, softly, shyly – “Do you love Mr. Moon?”

Time seems to stop as Kevin’s breath hitches in his throat at the sudden question, but you only look back at him, eyes soft and sparkling in the sunlight. 

Your answer glitters in your gaze.

Though you’re supposed to be talking to Sunwoo, your eyes stay fixed on Kevin, strong and unyielding, yet gentle and affectionate, as you answer. Your voice is soft when you reply. “Yes, Sunwoo. I do love him.” The smile on your face grows wider as you turn back to the child. “I love him very much.”

Indescribable warmth floods Kevin’s chest and tears prick his eyes. And as Sangyeon hurries his nephews away, as you turn around to unlock your car, one truth burns with absolute, crystal-clear certainty in his mind.

He isn’t falling in love with you, not anymore. No, he’s far past that stage.

Kevin Moon is completely, wholly, irrevocably in love with you.

“Kevin?” You look at him from the other side of the car. “You coming?”

A wide grin spreads across his face as he meets your sparkling eyes. Love blooms in his chest.

“Coming, sunshine.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for kevin’s whipped ass ksjdkgsdhjk)

[blackkatmagic]

In labyrinths of reflections?! So excited!

I would love to see a drabble of Harley and Ivy reunion after Marc helps Ivy out of prison. ^^

There's ice cream melting over her fingers, a buzz of green in her veins, and a darkened shack in the middle of the park that’s filled with the sound of hitched breaths.

Ivy tightens her grip on the Arkham-standard prison clothes, takes a breath. The trees around her bend inwards, shivering, and she has to close her eyes against the surge of hope and relief and vicious glee that’s beating like a tattoo in her chest.

The Joker is dead. The Joker is dead. He’s dead and gone and an old god ate his heart, so it’s safe to say that he’s never coming back.

Just for that, she would walk barefoot over broken glass and take a swim in weed killer, the moment Moon Knight asked her to.

Harley is crying, and Ivy should likely feel worse, should mourn the pain if not the man. But she doesn’t, she can't. Harley is free of him, Gotham is free of him, and it’s a fierce, bloody, vicious joy in Ivy’s chest, the knowledge that he died and suffered. Not just for what he did to Harley, but—

That doesn’t matter. He’s dead, because Moon Knight killed him. Moon Knight is like her, like them, mentally ill but forged into a weapon, functionality and purpose and intent, and he killed the Joker. Harley is free because of Moon Knight.

A muffled, trembling sound, and Ivy pushes forward, through the darkened doorway hung with wilted vines and into the moon-striped interior.

There's no movement, no sign she’s been seen. Harley is curled in the corner where Ivy’s bed is half-collapsed and covered in the wild tangle of her citrus trees run rampant, face tucked into her drawn-up knees, her hair down. She’s in loose clothes, Ivy’s baggiest sleeping clothes huge on her small frame, and she’s not audibly crying, but she might as well be.

Silently, Ivy sets both cartons of half-melted ice cream down on the floor, then crosses the small shack and pulls herself up onto the listing mattress. Without pause, she leans in, wraps her arms around Harley as tightly as she can and just—breathes. Lets her hair hide them from the world, just for a moment.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispers, and Harley’s breath catches on a sob. She grabs, hauls Ivy in and wraps her arms around her, and Ivy kisses her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her eye as Harley buries her face in her shoulder.

“Red,” she gets out, and the word cracks. “Red, Mr. J is dead. Someone killed him. I'm—I'm so relieved but I'm so sad, an’ I can't stop crying.”

Ivy never attacked the Joker, never confronted him. It would have made Harley angry, would have upset her, and Ivy could never risk losing her. Could never risk pushing her back to the Joker permanently, shutting down her one avenue of escape. She’d wanted to a thousand times, had thought about arranging accidents, or slipping him some poison, but—Harley is clever, and Ivy isn't a good enough actor to fool her. Harley would have realized what she’d done, and maybe the Joker would have been dead, but Ivy would have lost the one person she gives a damn about in the whole world. The trade-off was never worth it.

“I'm not sorry,” she whispers, not about to hide the truth. Harley already knows how she feels, anyway. “I'm glad. Him being dead makes me happy.”

Harley chokes on a sob, fingers bruising against Ivy’s skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Ivy doesn’t try to move, either, just leans in with a sigh, stroking Harley’s limp hair. “Moon Knight broke me out of Arkham,” she says quietly, and Harley stills, frozen, conflicted. There's a long pause, and then a watery breath, and Harley lifts her head.

“’S good,” she says, wiping at her eyes with the heel of one hand. “I know—I know how much you hate bein’ away from the sun, Red. I was gonna try to break you out, but the Bats were keepin’ an eye on me, an’ then Mr. J—”

“I know,” Ivy says, and shifts sideways, pulling Harley down onto the sagging mattress with her. The broken frame creaks dangerously, but Harley snuggles closer, tucks Ivy’s head under her chin and hangs on the with desperation of someone drowning. Gently, Ivy strokes her back, closing her eyes and thinking of a flare of white in the darkness, glowing eyes under the dark shadows of a hood.

When she’d first seen Moon Knight in the hallway, she’d expected a henchman come to break out their master, or maybe a new mercenary hired for a hit. Had only thought about charming him, tempting him in and then using him to escape. And maybe some part of her, impossible to turn off, is still thinking about the benefits of knowing him and the advantages he can provide, but—

He’s like them. He was in an institute at thirteen, and Ivy remembers all too well the long hours sitting in a psychologist’s office when she was a child, head bowed as she listed to the man and her mother talk. Remembers six months in the hospital, alone, desperate, after Jason Woodrue experimented on her.

The incident drove her insane, the files say. Ivy knows; she’s looked them up, torn through them to see what the Bats whisper about her in the darkness, and she’s seen those words printed starkly in black enough times to be burned into her brain. The incident drove her insane, like everyone in the world is one tragedy away from becoming mentally ill. Like Ivy was just sad and angry and that alone was enough to make her unstable. Like being in Arkham will fix her, or do anything but make her angrier. None of the doctors there give a damn about the patients, about anyone, and the ones who try turn out like Harley.

Moon Knight breaking her out and talking to her like a person, looking at her like she’s real and reasonable and not either a crazed villain or a mindless sex object did more to help steady her than her whole stint in Arkham. A little bit of understanding, a touch of his strange, brusque respect, and Ivy felt like she could breathe.

He’s like them, and he does what he thinks is right, not what the laws tell him to do. He’s like them, a little broken and a little crazy and a little good.

With her eyes closed, Ivy can feel the whole of Gotham breathing, the roots beneath the city and the branches spread through it, the weeds creeping up through the cracks in the sidewalk and hundreds of thousands of stately old trees, young and verdant trees, ivy and roses and flowers carefully trimmed and confined. She can feel each step that crushes the grass, the careless cruelty of a tree cut down, the gasping breaths of plants trying to breathe through the pollution. And, if she focuses, she can find a heavy pair of boots, moving more lightly than most across the park. The brush of a white cloak, the way he feels like moonlight on the grass, how the trees bend towards his presence. Like he’s carrying fresh air with him, as clean and cool as a wind across the desert, completely untouched by the smog and rot of Gotham around him.

Moon Knight, she thinks, and smiles, thin and wicked against Harley’s skin. Tightens her arms around Harley, then shoves, rolling them over and straddling Harley, knees locked against her ribs. Harley gasps, but she reaches for Ivy, tangles her fingers in Ivy’s hair and pulls, and Ivy kisses her, kisses her, kisses her, and never wants to let her up for air.

Moon Knight gave her this. Gave them this, even if Harley will never see it as the gift it is. He killed the Joker, set her and Harley both free, and Ivy’s laugh vibrates low in her throat as she cups Harley’s face between her hands.

Like them, she thinks. Moon Knight is one of theirs, one of hers. Ivy’s never been good at limits; everything she’s ever let go of has claw marks in it, and she’s willful, wicked, doesn’t have or want a code of honor of any sort. But—

“I think,” she whispers against Harley’s lips, still smiling, “that I just found my very own knight in shining armor.”

Harley laughs, too, even if hers is a little watery. “Don’cha mean your own Knight Light?” she jokes, and Ivy snorts and kisses her again.

She’ll keep one eye on Moon Knight, whenever he appears. Batman doesn’t like their kind, and he’ll like that Moon Knight broke her out of Arkham even less. Ivy doesn’t accept anyone easily, doesn’t take to strangers, but watching Moon Knight in the park, she felt…different. Wanted something other than to walk away and leave him behind. He’s an ally and an unknown and a god on earth, and Ivy knows a little bit more about that than she should.

He’ll need them eventually. That favor Ivy owes him will be called in. And—it’s not an entirely selfless thing. A steppingstone, maybe, to draw him closer, to pull him in.

Moon Knight doesn’t realize it yet, but if he tries to leave them—leave her—behind, he’s going to have claw marks in him, too.

[On AO3]

[acourtofsnakes]

Loving You Is A Losing Game - Chapter 1 || Javier Peña x F! Reader

Gif by: @norcula

Summary: Javier Peña is a lot of things. He would even admit he’s a liar, easily. But how far is he willing to go in this latest deceit, if it means taking down Escobar? Will he lose what he’s been so desperately searching for his life?

Warnings: Angst, angst, aaannnngst, (‘not so much in this chapter but overall) lies, swearing, drug references, murder references (it’s the Narcos world people), mentions of prostitutes(not derogatory)

AN: Thank you @damntonystarkandhissmile for the request, I loved it as you know, and had to turn it into a mini series 😌My first Javi fic 👀 Sorry for any mistakes, I wrote this on my phone and it’s super late, but I wanted to get it out to you. I’ll fix it up in the morning 🥰

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Chapter 1 || Chapter 2​

Many kids would tell you that their parents don’t like them. 

That they don’t get on. They’re mean. Weird. 

Usually, it’s because their parents won’t let them go out and get drunk, or that they won’t buy them that really expensive sweater that they’ll just lose or rip. 

You were one of those kids. 

Except in your case… Your father really didn’t get on with you. Or love you. 

Hell, you weren’t sure if he even liked you. 

And that was the truth. It was fact. 

Not because he didn’t give you what you wanted but because that was the way it’d always been. 

Even through childhood, you knew he didn’t care for you more than he felt he had to. 

You didn’t shout at each other, you just… simply didn’t get on. There was no love there, at all. 

And again, it really wasn’t because he wouldn’t buy you something, or he tried to tell you who to date. 

No, it was because he worked for Pablo fucking Escobar. 

The biggest drug kingpin in Medellin.

Your father was one of Escobar’s closest men, not quite a sicario, but certainly more than a lackey. 

He knew all the comings and goings of the drugs, knew who was who and who was trusted - or not. 

He was in Escobar’s inner circle, and he was proud of that. 

Didn’t care about the drugs that ruined people’s lives, the workers dying to make their precious cocaine - or the murders that the kingpin’s men so willingly committed. 

One might think it odd that a man like that had a child, but it hadn’t exactly been his choice. 

The little information you had gleaned had informed you that your mother was a prostitute, a girl working in one of the many pleasure houses in Medellin in order to make her money. And to find safety, because even though those houses were full of men with dark intentions for women… It was a home. A sanctuary compared to what she’d previously lived in.  Or rather, escaped from. 

But things between them were based on lies anyway. 

He never told your mother what he was, who he had devoted his life to. 

And so, when you were born and your mother regrettably couldn’t care for you anymore, she dropped you at your fathers’ doorstep. 

It broke her heart to lose you, but she truly beloved it was the safest place. She’d tried everything she could to keep her beloved daughter close but... After one too many close calls, she couldn’t risk your life anymore. 

And she thought your father would be the true sanctuary she never got to have. 

How wrong she was. 

Your father took you in, albeit reluctantly. Maybe there was a scrap of decency in him after all. 

Or maybe he just thought you’d be useful. 

As you grew up, you always knew he wasn’t… ‘good’. 

Whether it was the late hours working; the shady visitors or the room you were forbidden to go in that smelt funny - it was with an instinct far beyond your age that you knew a relationship with him was a lost cause. 

And that was okay. 

You kept your head down, studied hard at the school he dumped you in and… You flourished, to be honest. 

Excelled at your classes, settled into your own personality and made a handful of really good friends. 

It was as if you saw everything your father was, the sick darkness, the corruption, the disgusting loyalty to a monster like Escobar… and you simple decided to be the opposite. 

You were kindhearted, loyal to the end and the most helpful person anyone around you knew. 

No matter the time or place, you were always there for someone. Whatever they needed, you would be right there waiting with open arms and whatever they required. 

You wanted to put sunshine into the world, spread happiness and joy as if you could erase the stain from the dark men who tried to ruin it. 

Sometimes, this kindness and rose-tinted look on the world did get you… not so much into trouble, but it opened you up to pain. 

Some people tended to take advantage of your warm heart, using it their own ill wishes to get what they wanted. 

It wasn’t your fault, you just always believed in the best of people (aside from Escobar, your father and the others of course) and assumed that those asking you for help were genuine. 

There wasn’t a bad bone in your body, and whilst people respected and adored that about you… There will still those you were learning to be wary of. But you believed the world had good in it, you just had to find it. A fight you would gladly take up.

Of course, somewhere like Medellin was a battle in itself. 

In fact, all of Columbia was a battle. 

You could have moved out, moved on and forgotten all about it, but something kept you here, drawn to this place. 

It was dark, gritty and sometimes people wound up dead only a few blocks down from your home but despite that, this was still a beautiful place. 

With the lush green growth, the ever-burning sunshine and the flurry of people coming in and out… It was beautiful.

Everything was here for you. 

Family, friends… 

And Javi. 

Ah, Javier Peña. Your boyfriend.

Even now, you got a thrill from saying that. 

A DEA agent with all the tolerance and frustration of a wet cat. He was snarky and sarcastic, with what seemed like a permanent scowl etched onto his ruggedly handsome face. 

He had a bitter way of looking at the world sometimes, but he was hell-bent on fixing it. Much like you.

He was amazing at his job, forever going above and beyond to rid Columbia of its weeds and poison. 

At first glance, he was your complete opposite. 

And he was, in a way. 

But you always said you were two sides of the same coin. 

You were his light, and he was the storm that weathered your brightness before you burnt out. 

You had met by accident really. 

You and your friends had decided to go out for the night, to your favourite bar further in town. 

The drinks flowed easily, the music was constantly beating and the atmosphere always perfect. 

The staff got on well with your group, and more often than not, you were passed free drinks and food from them. 

You were at the bar that night, when the door had opened and in walked two men. 

Ordinarily, you would have done a quick glance over, and then gone back to your conversation. 

But this time was different. 

The man you saw first was tall, sandy blonde hair and an easy expression on his face. 

The other man behind him however… You couldn’t look away. 

Messy brown hair that appeared to have been styled previously but now fell over his forehead in tumbling loose curls - perhaps from running his hands through it in frustration? 

Impossibly rich brown eyes that you could see even from here, darker than his hair, darker than the liquid in the glass he ordered from the bar and deeper than your favourite chocolate cake. 

He walked with that predatory grace that showed he knew where he was and who was around him at all times. 

This was man that knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. 

But not in the same way as your father… No, this man… He was different. 

And you were intrigued. 

You turned back to your friends, waiting for a break in the conversation respectfully before chiming in, “Hey, who are those two guys that just walked in? I’ve never seen them in here before.” 

One of your friends, Serena - a girl with flowing inky hair and caramel-coloured skin - looked over at the men and a wicked smile crossed her lips, “Oh, you mean those two? That’s Steve and Javier.” She nodded her head first to the blonde, and then the dark haired man. “They work for the DEA, they pulled us in for an investigation once.” She said this lower, because you never know who may be listening. 

Your eyes widened, looking between the bar and your friend again sharply, disbelief colouring your tone, “They pulled you in? What did you do??” Blinking rapidly, you tried to imagine a situation in which your friends would be called in by the drugs authority. 

Serena snorted, waving her hand dismissively, “Oh, c’mon, nothing like that. You always assume the worse.” 

Saying nothing, you merely raised an eyebrow. 

Your friends were the wild ones in the group. 

You tended to be the one to make sure they were all okay, and everyone got home safe. 

Even when you were drunk, you were still the carer. 

And more often than not, it had been your quick thinking and easy smile that had gotten you all of out of some potentially sticky situations. 

She looked at your expression with narrowed eyes, then conceded, “Fine. You’ve got me there.” She fiddled with the straw in her cocktail, condensation dripping down the side of the glass from the hot Colombian air. “We were in another bar, further away and it was known to occasionally host the odd… Unsavoury member or two.” She looked at you through her eyelashes, letting you know what she meant by ‘unsavoury.’ 

Instantly, your palms grew a little slick and your neck prickled. And it wasn’t from the heat. 

Serena knew about your father. She was the only one who did, who you trusted enough to tell one night when you were flat out drunk, too intoxicated to care, and it had all come out. You had to tell someone, anyone. 

But you always had this reaction when anyone talked about Escobar, drugs or his men. 

No one else knew who your father was, but it didn’t mean that someone couldn’t work it out. 

You had done your best to try and avoid any association, but with the scurrying rats spying in this city, who knows where the information would end up?  Which authorities were already watching your every move, waiting to use you? 

Serena was carrying on with her story, so you tuned back in, “They came in one day we weren’t there, looking for information and I guess someone had told the boys we were in there a lot. They took us to their headquarters and asked us if we knew anything or had seen something.” 

Leaning forward, you sucked a deep mouthful of your own drink, but the ice had long since melted. It was more to give yourself a few moments to soothe your reaction, to calm your racing heart. 

You looked back at her, swallowing the cool liquid, “And? Did you manage to help?” 

Serena shrugged one shoulder, the strap of her dress slipping down, and she left it there, no doubt to draw the attention of the many men and women ogling her - She would have her pick of who. And if she didn’t want them, she’d leave them pining after her whilst she strutted from the room on those gorgeous legs, curves swaying and hair gleaming. 

“I’m not sure. We told them what we could but… The guys that go there to do those sorts of shady things, they hide it well, obviously.” 

A noncommittal noise left your throat and you looked over yet again, immediately drawn to the darker of the two. 

Only to find him already watching you. 

Those umber eyes were trained on you, pinning you to the seat and making you feel as though you were being stripped bare. 

Like he could peer straight into your soul and see simply everything there.

His tongue darted out, chasing a drop of alcohol leftover on his lower lip and the movement set a deep fire in the pits of your belly, burning hotter than the Colombian heat. 

A man with a tongue like that knew how to use it. 

Oh my god, were you seriously lusting after a stranger, a DEA agent to be precise?

Heat danced along your neck and cheeks, making you curse under your breath.

The darker man, the man creeping through your soul was standing sideways at the bar, the stance causing his pale blue shirt to pull tight at the arms, setting a gorgeous contrast against his honey-tanned skin. 

He didn’t take his eyes off you, lips murmuring as he spoke to his friend, who had his back to you. 

His expression was unreadable, apart from a faintly intrigued twitch to his otherwise impenetrable demeanour. He had you trapped, heat crushing your skin as he still pinned you with that predatory gaze, like he couldn’t decide whether to chase you, leave you there or devour you whole. 

Before the stare got any more intense, before you were sliding from your seat and gliding over to him, you were pulled back into your conversation. 

Over the span of the next two hours, you felt his heavy gaze more than five times, felt it’s weight on your skin like a brand and it left you unsettled - but in a good way. 

It been a long time since anyone had set a blaze within you, sent that feeling of butterflies soaring through your chest and belly. 

It had been a long time since someone had undressed you with their eyes. 

You had looked up at one point in a lull of conversation, only to find that they were gone. Just like that, vanished. 

Disappointment had shot through you like a spear of cold ice, because for the last forty-five minutes, you had been working up the courage to… To do something. 

Maybe a wink or… To hold his gaze for longer than five seconds. 

Would you ever see them again? 

It was likely if they were DEA, but he probably wouldn’t remember you. A man like that? 

Absolutely not. 

And you hadn’t seen him. 

Not for a week. 

Not until you were walking down the street one afternoon, lost in your own thoughts that were certainly not of agents with dark hair and even darker eyes. 

And then suddenly, with all the cliché in the world, you had walked into something firm, warm and definitely human. 

“Watch it, cariño.” A low, rough voice. Raspy yet somehow smooth, like it had honey poured over it. And the tone… Nothing biting or sharp in there at all. 

It was… Something else, but definitely not vicious. 

Already anticipating who it would be, your head snapped up, breath stilling in your throat. 

There he was. 

Standing taller than you, head cocked slightly and those dark, dark eyes watching you with thinly veiled curiosity… And a deeper gleam. 

Again, like he was watching something he wanted to eat. Slowly. 

You’d let him. 

Your cheeks flushed just a little at that repeated unbidden thought and you swallowed, throat bobbing, “Sorry, I was distracted. Did I hurt you?”

He chuckled, and gods above, the sound was again like warm honey sliding over your bones, caressing you and making you dissolve, “Not at all. I just wouldn’t want you bumping into someone less forgiving - or friendly. You never know who you might meet on these streets.” He watched the movement of your throat, rubbing his forefinger and thumb over the moustache in a movement that was oddly enticing. 

He flicked his eyes back up to yours, but not before gazing at your mouth with that peculiar fire, like a flame underwater. 

Oh, you knew a lot of unfriendly people. 

Tilting your head the other way to his, you smiled angelically at him, “Well, I’ll thank my lucky stars that I ran into someone just like you.” 

He hummed softly, narrowing his eyes slightly at you in thought, “Do those stars allow me to take you for a drink? Or would that be… Inappropriate?” 

Fuck, the way his deep baritone purred over the last word… It was as if he was running his tongue along your hot skin, tasting you. 

Heat coiling low in your belly, you threw your eyes up to the sky in mock thought, as if listening and then dropped them back to those umber pools, “I think I can manage. I don’t even know your name though.” 

A faint grin tugged his lips, “Javier Peña.” He held out a large, tanned hand. 

The name whispered through you like a siren call as you told him your own name, sliding your hand into his. 

Javier repeated it, making it sound like a caress as his hand enclosed yours. 

A shudder ran through you, bringing forth even more images that weren’t appropriate for such a first meeting. “Lead the way, Javier. I warn you though, make one wrong move and I’ll throw you to the wolves.” You mimicked his previous purr, knowing it was at odds with your appearance. 

Javier looked back at you, something appreciative and glittering in his eyes as he laughed again, “Oh, I don’t doubt it, cariño.” 

And that was that. 

You had gone back to a local bar for drinks, losing yourself in the time and the rough, yet velvety personality of this man. 

He didn’t really say much about himself, but he had a way of asking you things no one ever really had before. Asking you things that you’d never thought about. 

Like what would you be doing if things were different?

What’s a dream you had in childhood there no one else knows?

If you could take on the life of a book character, who would it be, and why?

He was wholly different to anyone you’d had before, and you wanted to learn everything about him. 

You had spent so long on the topic of you, and know you wanted to learn about him. 

Even though he skirted around a few questions, you lapped the information up and stored it. 

He did tell you about why he stayed in Columbia, why he chose to be in the DEA - but you still didn’t glean much. 

That was okay though because what he didn’t say, he made up for in the looks he gave you. 

The slight smile that tilted up the corners of his lips, made his eyes twinkle and his entire face light from within. 

The intense, burning gaze, head cocked to the side and two fingers rubbing along the edge of his moustache again - his large hand capturing your attention for longer than you’d care to admit. 

And then that had been history. 

A few more ‘dates’, a few more slow starts and working out of boundaries and… then he was your boyfriend. 

Your friends had warned you when you told them. 

Warned that he had a darkness, the same as all the agents had working in a corrupt country. 

And they also warned you that… He had a bit of a history with the same types of girls your mother had been. 

Had an affinity for them, using them for information and getting them out of the country - and not without a heavy, fast fling too. 

But… you didn’t care. You saw the broken man within, saw the determined agent wanting to make his country whole and free of the rot. 

And to be honest, you didn’t see much of the supposed womaniser he was. Not that you didn’t believe them - but he was (perhaps uncharacteristically) soft with you, warm. 

He was a good man, working through his troubles and finding solace in you. 

For once, something good and strong had come into your life, and nothing could take it from you.  

Right?

~~~

~~

Javier Peña was going to go to Hell. 

Not that he didn’t know this already, but with what he was up to lately… He almost certainly had a first-class ticket and express boarding now. 

That thought had been going round and round his head for the past couple of weeks. 

Lately, it had been getting to him. 

He couldn’t really say why either, it just did. 

Any time, any moment of the day. 

Even now, as he tidied up after the dinner you’d cooked together. 

It was killing him. 

The lies turned to ash in his mouth, leaving behind an acrid taste of shame. 

The sweet smiles you shot him were like daggers to the heart and the soft, twinkling laugh only he could bring from you sounding like a taunt. 

“Liar, liar, liar, liar.” It would hiss, following him from the room. 

He tried to tell himself he was simply doing a job, doing what he was asked but he was lying to himself then. 

He’s done plenty of things that anyone would be ashamed of, all in the name of trying to do good. And of course, they made him feel bad, but… Not like this. 

Not this sickening twist of his gut, or the guilt that lay heavy and stopped him from sleeping - even more than usual, that is.

He’d started drinking and smoking more too, burning through his alcohol and cigarettes at a pace you of course picked up on. 

When you asked him, concern and worry in those enchanting eyes, he’d merely shrugged it off to stress of the job. 

It wasn’t exactly an untruth but damn, it felt like one. 

Especially when you cupped his cheek with such tender care, kissing him softly and coaxing him to bed - where you showed him just how skilled you were at relaxing him, taking his mind off ‘work.’ 

Fuck express boarding. He was getting a personal escort to the pits beyond. 

A shrill ringing caught his attention, breaking him from his spiralling thoughts and he turned around, momentarily confused. 

The phone. 

It was ringing. 

He should answer that. 

Javi stared at it, then went over and answered like a normal person, “Hello?” 

A slightly grumpy, slightly suspicious normal person, but hey. Points for trying. 

“Hey, Javi.” It was Steve. “Sorry for the late call,” 

Lately, there were no ‘out of hours’. 

Some days, the boys wondered if they would be better off just living at the office.  

He was already itching for a cigarette.

Javier eyed the packet of cigarettes on the counter, “Nah, it’s alright. What’s up?” 

A sigh came through the slight static of the line, “Look man, I know you can’t rush it but… Have you got anything from her yet? Anything at all we can use? Carrillo and the others aren’t gonna give us much longer and we need to nail these fuckers.” 

Ah, there it was. 

The call back to reality. 

Javi’s eyes moved from the cigarettes to the bottle of bourbon he’d abandoned earlier on, “No, nothing yet. No more than what I told you the other day… I can’t push it too much. It’ll bet too obvious.” 

Leather creaked and Javi knew Steve would be leaning back on his couch, rubbing his forehead. already smoking. 

“I thought as much. She’s the best lead we have, you can’t fuck it up.” He sighed again, more of a groan, “I just wish we could storm right in there and haul them all in.” 

Javier was already stalking across the kitchen, snatching up the alcohol and decanting it into a glass before Steve had finished his sentence, “Yeah, I know, I’m with you. Boss says we need something concrete to go on. Which is bull. I’m working as hard as I can, but she’ll get suspicious otherwise. It’s a sore subject.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Let me know if you find anything, okay? Maybe use some of that charm on her. I know it can’t be your happy attitude that gets all those women to fall into bed tell you their darkest secrets.” Steve snickered, a smirk evident in his voice. 

Javi bared his teeth at his glass, “Fuck off. You’re just jealous you actually have to work for it.” 

He hung up, cutting off Steve’s retort before he even got two words out. 

The thought of seducing you into bed to get information… No. 

They were getting impatient. 

There was only so much he could do to hold them off. He needed to get his head straight. 

He needed to figure out what to do. 

He needed - 

“Hey, everything okay?”

He needed you not to be standing there. 

How much had you heard? 

Had you been there the whole time? 

Fuck, he hadn’t even heard your footsteps come back from the bathroom. 

You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the brief flash in his eyes, the chink in the demeanour as he struggled for a believable answer, “Oh, yeah, bebé. It was just Steve. They’re struggling to get citizenship for Olivia in America in case they go home so I said I’d ask someone I know about it.” 

Not entirely a lie. Just… not the truth either. 

Steve was struggling, and Javi was looking into it. 

That’s just not what the phone call was about. 

But he could hardly tell you that. 

Because then they’d lose the only lead they had. 

“That sucks... If they need help, I can ask the girls? See if they know anyone?” You pulled a thoughtful face as you leant against the side, “You’ll probably have more luck than me, but I know Luciana had a similar problem with her son…” You swirled your drink around your glass thoughtfully, working how to solve this next problem. 

Javi swallowed, rubbing his eyes as he ran the water to wash up the dishes. 

Maybe this would have been easier if you were… less caring. Less good. 

“Yeah sure, cariño. They’d appreciate any help they can get at the minute.”

The opportunity was there, might as well go for it. 

“Steve is really stressed at the minute. Trying to juggle the shit with Olivia, keeping his marriage floating and then the dead ends we keep hitting with Escobar.” He huffed, shaking his head and turning the water off, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he yells at Carrillo in the next day or so.” 

Javi felt you looked over at the back of his head, practically hearing your face of concern, “It’s that bad again? You’re really getting nowhere?” 

He knew that hated to hear when your boys were stressed out. Javi was pretty much sleepless most nights, but there was just you with him. 

For Steve to be juggling a marriage, a baby and his job all at the same time, in a city that still didn’t fully welcome ‘gringos’. It killed you. You had said many times before how your heart went out to him. How you wished you could help. 

You already are, baby.

He nodded, concentrating on the water. It was easier this way. “Mmhm… We just keep hitting dead end after dead end. People are losing their lives and Escobar and his band of freaks are spreading like poison.” The bitterness in his words wasn’t made up. 

He hated the man. 

Hated him and his band of psychos and everything they did and stood for. 

The day they were all behind bars - or six feet under - would be the day he would finally rest properly. 

Even if he had no idea what he would do with his life when he was free of Escobar. 

Although, on reflection, the job would never be done. There were still more cartels and drug lords to take down. 

You were still talking behind him, the worry and frustration clear in your voice as he turned the water off, “I just… I wish there was some way I could help. It kills me to see you all so stressed like this. It’s not fair.”

Javi swallowed, his throat working as he shook his head dismissively, abandoning the dishes and coming over to you instead, “Nah, don’t worry about it, baby. It’s no different to what normally happens. Usually, he just yells at me for not telling him something or for smoking too much, he had an argument with our superiors and then he’s fine.” 

He leant against the counter, stretching his legs out and reaching forward to gently pull you into the space between his legs. 

“Don’t worry about it, really.” He kissed your cheek tenderly before placing a cigarette between his lips. “How was your day?” 

He threw his lighter back on the side after igniting the end, breathing in a lungful of the poisonously addictive smoke. 

You slid your arms around his shoulders, curving into his body and you tilted your head back as you groaned at the ceiling, “Long. I had some mail still going to my father’s house, so I had to go and pick it up.” 

Javi heard the way the words, ‘my father’ twisted in your mouth, your lips curling slightly in disgust as you call the man the words he wouldn’t ever deserve. 

Anger seared through him, like the smoke he heaved into his lungs every day. 

Another man that deserved a fate in the dark. 

“How was it? Did he say anything to you?” 

He stroked down the side of your face, trailing his fingers down your neck and he slid his hand across the back, cradling your head. 

Your eyelashes fluttered as he cupped your head, taking the weight for you, “He was prattling on about some meeting. Mumbling that he could tell this person and that person, find something out.” You huffed, “I didn’t really listen.” 

Javier’s interest peaked, and he hoped you wouldn’t feel the sudden thump his heart had taken. “A meeting? Did he say what the meeting was about?” He kept his voice soft, even.

Made sure the lungful of smoke curled from his lips in a smooth motion, rather than a jagged breath. 

You shook your head no, eyes closing again, and you rested your forehead against his jaw, “Nope. Even if he did, it was all just white noise.” 

Damn. 

Disappointment spread thick through his veins. 

Yet with it, came relief. 

Because if you had no new information… He wouldn’t have to call it in. 

Javier pressed little butterfly kisses to your hairline, rubbing his fingers into the back of your neck, “You don’t have to see him again for a while now, baby. Don’t think of him… don’t give him that satisfaction.” He murmured the words, rubbing your lower back and keeping you arched against his body. 

He liked this. 

No, he adored this. 

The way you turned utterly boneless in his touch and sank against his body like it was your haven. 

A non-committal noise left your throat, and you merely snuggled closer, your fingers pushing into the hair at the back of his head just the way he liked. 

Goosebumps danced down his spine, warming his bones and he let his eyes close. 

He’d still have to go to work tomorrow. 

Be called into the office and asked again if he’d found anything out. 

If you had given up your father. 

How much more time Javier needed. 

He would deal with the guilt, the shame, the anger that they were making him do this - and the disgust at himself for actually doing it. 

But for now… He could stand here in the kitchen with you, the crappy tv in the background with your head against his jaw and the scent of your shampoo wafting around him. 

For now, he could just pretend.

Next

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Hello, having seen your requests are open, I would like to request your thoughts on

Andy Barber and Reader going on vacation together for the first time (rating up to you)

A Much Needed Vacation

words: 2.5k

pairing: Andy Barber x female Reader

warnings: mentions of smut, implied smut, fluff

A/n: I don’t know why I struggled so much with this, I hope it’s okay. I’m so nervous (because I really want to impress @slothspaghettiwrites ) pray for me please! :)

My Masterlist

Andy had always had trouble making and keeping friends. He had a couple of colleagues and acquaintances, but a true friend he could confide in? Not really no, his past trauma and toxic habit of keeping all his emotions bottled up made him seem arrogant and standoffish.

But then you came along. You, with your perfect smile and golden heart and the patience of an angel. No matter what Andy tried, how distant he acted, you wouldn’t budge. The opposite actually. His behaviour intrigued you and the way he made your thighs clench by only looking at you added to his appeal.

So when you regrettably went to go for a swim in the morning because you felt too exhausted yesterday evening and saw this delicious piece of man in just a pair of trunks? You knew it was time to get that man to become yours.

You situated yourself at the end of the lane Andy was using, thighs spread and calves dunked in the cool water, your swimsuit tight around your body. A smirk plays on your lips as you watch the man of your desire move closer to you until his hand hits the edge of the pool and his head pops up.

You can see from his expression that he did not expect to come face to face with your crotch, eyes wide under his goggles and mouth agasp. He panted heavily and took off his glasses, beard and hair wet, a few droplets running from his forehead. ”Hey, Andy. What are you doing here so early?”, you asked with a smile.

He struggled staying in one spot, because you were blocking the edge with your thighs, hindering him from holding himself up. Grinning, you reached for his hand and placed it on your leg. Andy’s had snapped up to stare at you in shock, yet his fingers tightened around your flesh to keep him steady.

“I like when it’s empty in the mornings. Fewer disturbances”, he answered and lowered his gaze. Now he was right back to watching your crotch and a delicious blush covered the apples of his cheeks. Quickly he glanced to the side to try and be respectful.

You pouted and splashed some water with your foot, “Am I disturbing you?”. Andy squeezes your thigh erratically, “No, absolutely not. It’s a real pleasure that you’re here”, he responded a little too eager, which he must have realised because he started to backpaddle, “I mean that in a really respectful way not that I get off on this or something. That’d be weird”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips, “Not that you’re weird, you’re obviously very attractive and beautiful, not that I’ve been watching you, bu-“, your giggles interrupted him. With a loving gaze you cupped his face, “Wanna race?” Confused, Andy agreed, but before he could part from you, you pulled his face close to yours.

His breath was fanning over your lips and you could perfectly make out all the flecks and shades of blue in his beautiful eyes, “Will you take me on a date if I win?”

You’re very glad you got Andy to open up to you, especially now that you’ve been dating for ten months. Never before have you felt this happy so consistently and even though Andy still struggles with fully discussing his feelings and thoughts, you think that he has been sharing your excitement. You’ve become his rock, the one constant in his life, the shoulder he leans one. In return he treats you with the utmost respect and love. There wasn’t a moment where you didn’t feel like a queen in his care.

Sadly, you couldn't spend as much time with him as you wanted, his work as an assistant district attorney taking up most of his time.Of course that didn’t hinder your growing love for the man, but it left you feeling lonely a lot, particularly because your occupation as an architect allows you to work from home quite a bit.

Once you moved together, you felt slightly more connected to your boyfriend. Falling asleep in his arms every night and waking up with kisses being peppered all over your face was like a dream come true. For the first few weeks, you were in a constant state of bliss, cooking and providing for Andy while he kept you happy and satisfied. Soon enough however, Andy received a new case to work on and your fairytale vision was destroyed. The reality of life settled in and your rose coloured glasses were ripped away.

You still enjoyed living with your boyfriend, every time you saw him, butterflies erupted in your belly, still do, you just wished you could spend more time with him. Never before have you been so in love with somebody. All of Andy’s little quirks and ticks had you weak in your knees. The way he acted so delicate and gentle, especially around you, while his muscles were bulging. To see this huge, sculpted man be so caring and soft made you feel all kinds of things.

But it must have been your lucky day when Andy came home early with a big smile on his face. “Sugar, the case is closed. You’ve got me all to yourself for the next three weeks”, his arms open for you to fall into with loud giggles. “For real?”, you asked, excitement bubbling in your chest, “Yes, for real, honey!”, he grinned and pulled you closer, his beard scratching against the delicate skin of your cheeks as he pressed his lips to your temple.

You’re currently sitting next to Andy on a flight to “You’ll like it, I promise”. Your head rests on his shoulder, eyes closed peacefully. His breathing calms you down and even managed to lull you into a deep slumber. He’s been reading some kind of book and occasionally glanced over to you, checking if you’re doing alright. The flight has been quite calm, smoothly flying over the clouds.

The first class seats are a blessing, the constant stream of food that’s been given to you and the extra leg room added to the whole level of comfort. Andy’s warmth makes you feel very small and cuddly, his muscular frame a stark contrast to your softer, smaller form; a thing that you’ve come to appreciate quite a lot.

“Did you have a nice nap, honey?”, his deep voice rumbles as one of his hands moves to cradle your face. You nod and cuddle yourself further into your boyfriend’s chest, his distinctive smell consumes you as you continue to practically melt into his side. “We’ll land shortly, shortcake. Are you ready to find out where we're going?”, he asks into your hair and nuzzles his nose into your scalp. A loud yawn escapes your mouth, “I guess. I’m just happy to be with you again”, you whisper and turn to face him.

Of all the places Andy could have picked, he chose this particular place, because he knew you would love all the new experiences and adventures it would bring. He’s aware that you love to experience new things with all of your senses, how you become so excited whenever you discover a new smell or feel a foreign fabric under your fingers, the way your eyes glaze over when you spot a novel view or an object of interest. The way you grin when a new taste warms your body, there’s nothing that Andy loves more than seeing you beam with such childlike joy.

“You’re taking me to Marrakesh? No way”, you gasp, suddenly awake. The grin on your boyfriend’s face mirrors your own as excitement courses through your veins. “I’ve never been to Morocco before! Or Africa!”, you stare at him for a split second before your head whips to the other side. The window doesn’t suffice with your sudden hunger to explore the city, you can barely make out any landmarks. Yet you can’t stop squirming in your seat. The wanderlust has fully taken over and you latch onto Andy’s arm, giggling uncontrollably.

Your laughter is infectious and soon your boyfriend is cackling next to you, desperately trying to silence himself when he sees the man next to him staring at the both of you with a death glare. If looks could kill.

The next two hours pass in a blur. Andy maneuvered you through the airport safely and carried most of the luggage as your eyes were trained on the different people that moved past you. The drive to the hotel was no different, your nose practically glued to the window, “Look, Andy, look!”. He entertained you, of course, and looked out of the window every time, a smile on his soft, pink lips, “Good job, shortcake. Did you take a picture?”. The check-in went smoothly, all of your bags stored safely in your room.

You’re sitting on the softest king size bed ever, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to finish up in the bedroom. “Hurry up, please. I can’t wait to get out to see more of this place”, you shout, phone in your hand to take a picture for your family. “Relax, honey! The sights won’t run away”, he responds with a chuckle. His deep timbre makes goosebumps arise all over your arms. All your excitement must have caused an increase in your blood flow to your lady parts.

With a shake of your head you try to rid yourself of these thoughts. The attempt fails horrendously once Andy comes out of the en suite. His loose, unbuttoned shirt and the form fitting shorts make you weak in the knees. Your boyfriend is just that handsome. The thought of ripping his trousers from his body dissipates quickly when he asks if you’re ready to go see the souks. Hell yes, you are.

The sun is setting while you and Andy overlook the Jemaa el-Fnaa from your table on the restaurant’s balcony. An almost empty plate of cake between you and your boyfriend. He’s holding your hand on the table, gently tracing your knuckles with his thumb. “How’d you like your first day, honey?”, he asks gently, affection clearly shimmering in his eyes.

“I loved it! I don’t know what I liked most? Everything is so interesting and beautiful”, you jump in your chair, giggling happily. “I loved all the different little shops in the bazaar! I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many different foods and clothes in one place and everything smelled so good. I really loved all the spices, we should make something like this at home!”

“What, a whole wall filled with spices?”, he snorts, shaking his head, the smile never leaving his face, “I think we should leave the colossal spice walls in the souks”. A pout forms on your lips, but the squeeze of Andy’s hand makes you melt back into your blessed state. “I really loved all the different things they sold. I’m sure you could find about everything there”, Andy pieces the last piece of cake and holds it up to your mouth. You open up to reach for it, but he pulls the fork away just efore you get to it, “Andy!”, you whsiper yell at the grin on his lips.

“What’s the matter honey?”, he asks sweetly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You playfully glare at him, smirking, “Are you sure you want to play this kind of game, Mr. Barber?”. He nods at you like you’re being his bratty teen, in need for some serious attitude control, “Don’t be all venomous, I don’t like snakes”. As soon as he spoke those words regret washed over his features, “Oh dear, here we go…”

“I can’t believe you’re scared of snakes! You’re the biggest man I know and you’re terrified of snakes!”, you burst out with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “I just didn’t want it to touch me”, he mumbles, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Please, Andy you should have seen your face. It was a tiny little snake”, you giggle and reach over the table to take his hand into yours again, but he doesn’t budge. “It was laying on your shoulders, it could have killed you!”, you keep trying to loosen up his arms, a few giggles still slipping out. You get out of your seat and move to your boyfriend, “The kind owner was standing right next to me, everything was fine”,

With a sigh, Andy opens his arms and pulls you on his lap. His beard tickles you as he places his head on your shoulder, gently kissing and lapping at your neck, “I just want you to be safe”.

You cuddle further into his warmth, smiling at his overprotective manners, “I’ve got you with me, I don’t think I could be safer”.

A smile on your lips, you turn around to kiss him, his scent envelopes you with a sense of comfort. His soft mouth against your own, the setting sun warming you from the outside, the love and adoration coursing through you from the inside. It’s gentle, full of emotion as if he’s trying to put all his wasted feelings from when he was working so much into it. After a while you pull back, breathing heavily. Your hand cups his face and you run the other through his soft hair, a couple of knots tangling between your fingers.

“I love you, baby”, you whisper like you’re telling him a secret, “I love you too, honey”.  A warm breeze blows over you and you turn to watch over the place below you, the last rays of sun painting it in a delicious golden glow. “Let’s ask someone to take a picture of us. Our first day on our first ever vacation together”, you smile and press another kiss to his lips. “I’ll find someone, stay put”, Andy grins and squeezes your hips as a sign for you to move back into your seat.

You watch your boyfriend’s retreating figure, a happy flutter in your chest. You can’t believe that you’re on a beautiful vacation with your beautiful boyfriend and about to take a beautiful picture to glue into your memory book. Excited, you let the atmosphere envelope you, completely floating in all the different sounds and scents. It’s really peaceful, the loud and busy streets quiet for a change.

Andy’s voice coaxes you out of your trance, “You ready, sugar?”. The two of you stand in front of the balcony, his hands rest on your waist when he suddenly bows forwards, making you fall backwards in turn. With a gasp, you reach for his shoulders, holding onto his strong frame. His warm breath grazes your cheek as his blue eyes stare into your soul. You hear the camera clicking, but it’s faded into the background. The only thing you can focus on is your boyfriend and his enticing body, the exposed skin that’s glistening deliciously.

He leans even closer to you until his lips brush your ear, “I can’t wait to have you all alone tonight. Just you and me, finally”. You gulp at the list and arousal in his voice, thighs clenching at his tone, “I’ve been waiting for you all day”.

Safe to say your vacation with Andy was very satisfying.

.

.

Taglist: @teetles-and-other-stuff @winteralpine @slothspaghettiwrites @marvels-gurl @gotnofucks

My Masterlist

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Be added to my Taglist here.

[digitalworldbound]

takari w.i.p

hi! it’s been forever, i know, but i’ve just graduated college! i’ve been loosely working on a short takari fic centered around the language of flowers and such. i feel like hikari loves flowers and takeru loves giving them to her? it will have six little parts, but i only have the first two half-way finished.  anyways, here is a snippet (pls be gentle, i haven’t edited it yet): 

Five Times Takeru gave Hikari Flowers, and the One Time she Returned the Favor 

The Beginning

“You know, Takeru,” his mother began one day, a hot summer breeze floating through the window. Their new apartment was bare, her voice bouncing off the empty walls.  Takeru, legs dangling off of the kitchen counter, trailed his eyes on his mother as she meticulously arranged flowers into the perfect formation. “Every woman loves flowers.”  

The blond nodded, pretending to understand. Though he was a bright boy, there were many concepts he had yet to wrap his mind around. If only Yamato were here, Takeru thought.

Sensing her son’s disinterest, Takeru’s mother tried another approach. “Flowers have their own language.” Her fingers diligently arranged the blossoms, hesitating only to admire her son’s wide eyes/

“What do you mean, mommy? How can they talk if they don’t have mouths?” Takeru hopped down from his perch, cautiously approaching his mother’s newest bouquet. While a daisy was become victim to the young boy’s scrutinizing gaze, Nancy laughed. For a boy of only six, Takeru was very serious. “No, baby, they don’t have mouths.” Her giggles continued at her son’s disbelieving stare. “The different flowers have meanings, sweetheart.”

Takeru hesitated, eyeing the stem in between his fingers warily. “What about this one, then?” The once pristine white petals had dropped with the boy’s investigation. Nancy crouched beside Takeru, gingerly taking the blossom from his grasp. “Well, my love, daisies symbolize hope.”

-

Daisies – Innocence, Hope

Peonies –  Bashful, Happiness

Lilacs – Joy of Youth

Wood logs crackled underneath a flame, the glow illuminating the dirty faces of children. Takeru had hoped that finding the eighth Chosen would put the rest of the group at east but going home had caused more problems than he had thought. Yamato was upset, confused, and alone. Meanwhile, Takeru was sat between Taichi and Koushiro, enjoying the hum of the digital crickets.  Across from him was Sora, arm wrapped around a shivering Hikari. Gatomon set several feet away, diligently cleaning meat from fish bones.

The campfire chatter had dwindled into the faint snores of their Digimon partners, the air seeming heavy without his brother’s smooth harmonica music.  Koushiro and Taichi huddled around a laptop screen, discussing things in a series of whispers. Takeru stood up, stirring Patamon from his slumber. Picking his partner up in his arms, Takeru made his way towards the girls.

A breeze whistled through a field of flowers as Hikari gazed curiously at the boy with the green hat.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully, his toothy grin putting the younger girl at ease. “My name is Takeru. What’s yours?” A warmth spread to his cheeks. He already knew her name, hearing her brother scream for her during the battle with Myotismon, but that wasn’t the same as her telling him herself. His mother always told him that first impressions were the only impression a person gets. It was embarrassing to think that they had only known each other for two minutes before he burst into tears.

“I’m Hikari,” she answered simply, her dark eyes reflecting the dancing flames. He stood beside her, arranging Patamon comfortably on the ground once more.  A chilled breeze danced through the trees, stray flower petals dancing around their small group.

Hikari’s shoulders were tense, dark shadows emphasizing her eyes. Though she had only been with them for a day, she had witnessed the group at the absolute best and terrifying worst. Her entire body had been overtaken by a mysterious entity; her brother attacked by his best friend. Yet, her cheeks lacked any tear-tracks.

“You’re really brave, you know?” Takeru looked earnestly in her eyes. There would be no way he could stand in the face of an evil vampire, composed and fierce as she was.  Knees tucked close to her chest, Hikari looked small in the firelight. Dirt streaked her face, her hair knotted from her semi-possessed state. Her shoulders shrugged as if she didn’t believe him. “Well,” he continued “When I first came to the Digital World, all I did was cry. I was scared of everything. Even with Puppetmon, I was shaking like a leaf.” From the ground, Patamon nodded solemnly.

Fire crackled, bright ashes decorating the air like miniature fireworks. A voice, barely above the volume of a whisper, floated through his ears. “Why did you cry? Was it that terrible?” Hikari’s eyes remained focused on the campfire, but her body leaned in his direction.

“It wasn’t terrible at all! It was fun when we were all together; I think I was confused. My brother was with me for the first time in forever, but he was so angry. Then, monsters started attacking us and everything just got all jumbled. You didn’t even have time to prepare for any of this, but you had to fight the worst monster yet. You didn’t even cry! You’re like a Power Ranger or something.”

Hikari giggled, her eyes settling on Takeru’s face for a second. Flower petals had woven themselves through her knotted strands, giving Sora plenty to fret over. With the older girl focused on tidying up their newest member and Patamon snoring lightly, Takeru let his gaze wander to the stretch of land beside them. The field of flowers was untouched, stems standing proudly. Careful not to disturb his sleeping partner, Takeru made his way towards the blossoms. It had felt like an eternity had passed since he talked to his mother about the language of flowers, but he did his best to recall.

Waist deep in a field of fresh blooms, Takeru gathered the prettiest ones. Hikari’s eyes had followed his form, but he did not divert his attention. If his mother was right, all girls loved flowers, and he was sure Hikari would be no different. The flowers smelled sweet, their scent tousling his blond locks.

Though only a few minutes passed, the fire was low by the time he returned. Koushiro had tucked himself into a sleeping bag, laptop secured underneath his arm. Sora busied herself with cleaning up their mess. Fish bones and various twigs were tossed into the pit, the fire dancing in response. Taichi perched himself underneath a nearby tree, Agumon sitting faithfully beside him. Looking around, he found Hikari not far from her brother.

Hair combed, she looked almost peaceful as she stroked her partner’s fur. Gatomon had curled herself in Hikari’s lap, purring lightly as she slept. Takeru did his best to approach quietly, but as soon as he set foot into camp, Patamon raced towards him.

“Takeru, I thought v you were gone forever!”. In a flurry of orange wings, Takeru’s partner rested lightly on his hat. “Don’t be silly, Patamon! I would never leave you.”

“Why do you have all those flowers, Takeru?” Patamon’s voiced echoed in the quiet of the night. Hikari glanced up, giving them a brief smile before her amber eyes focused on his makeshift bouquet. A flush of heat settled into Takeru’s cheeks. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Hikari gazed up at him, eyebrows raised quizzically. With the confidence of an eight-year-old boy, Takeru thrusted the myriad of flowers towards her. “Surprise!” His grin was wide, toothy and disarming.

First the first time since he met her, Hikari smiled. For a fleeting moment, she was glowing. “They’re beautiful.” Though soft spoken, Takeru knew the words were genuine. The sparkle in her eyes told him more than her words ever could: his mother had been right.

Rubbing his sticky palms on him shorts, the blond plopped himself down beside his new friend.  Hikari ran her fingers through the peonies, taking a moment to sniff the lilac. A stray daisy landed on the toe of Takeru’s sneaker.

“Hey, Hikari,” he began, leaning over to pick up the blossom, “did you know that flowers have their own language?”

Her amber eyes tore themselves from her gift, lashes fluttering in confusion. “What do you mean?” Hikari’s voice was stronger than before, the corner of her lips twitching in an almost-smile. Patamon sleepily curled up in his partner’s lap.  The embers reflected in his wide, blue eyes. “Well, let me tell you what my mommy told me.”

-

Violets – Loyalty, Devotion, Faithfulness

Takeru could feel the table groan under the weight of his fist. He had been so careless! If he had only let Hikari go through the gate first, then-

“Takeru! Stop! Punching the desk won’t help bring Hikari back!” Daisuke’s breath was hot on his face, his presence far too close for comfort. It was too much, Daisuke was too much. It happened in a blur. Takeru’s fist tangled themselves in the fabric of Daisuke’s shirt, shoving him into a nearby chair. Metal screeched against the linoleum floor.

“You don’t know that! You don’t know her!” Takeru screamed. From somewhere beside him, Takeru barely registered Miyako’s gasp of fear. Iori cowered behind her, burying his face in the older girl’s dress. He was too angry to care. Hikari was alone in one of the most volatile parts of Digital World because of his negligence. Because of their negligence. All of them were to blame, yet the others didn’t seem perturbed.

Daisuke, body crumpled on the ground, gaped at Takeru from his huddle on the floor. His cinnamon hair was tousled, eyes rimmed in red. Maybe the blond had been too harsh on his friend. The beast of rage that seemingly possessed his body quieted. Guilt seeped into his stomach, forcing bile into his throat. Takeru’s hands tugged at his hair, a loud groan escaping his lips.

Miyako crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s nobody’s fault Hikari is lost. You need to quit punching your friends, Takeru. If Daisuke is indisposed, it will be harder to get her back.” Iori nodded in agreement, the tension too thick for him to speak. Takeru’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Miyako was right. The only way to ensure Hikari’s safety was if the boys work together,

A truce had to be called. Arm outstretched, the goggle-headed boy warily eyed Takeru’s hand before he finally accepted. Daisuke straightened his clothes, brushing off invisible dirt. “You know,” he began slowly, his eyes trailed on his sneakers, “I may not know Hikari as well as you do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about her.” Takeru raised his arm, trying not to feel offended when Daisuke flinched. He rested his palm on the band of goggles, earning a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun. “So, we have an understanding?”

With his hair tousled and eyes bright, Daisuke reminded Takeru of Taichi. The knots in his stomach seemed to unravel. “Of course.”

-

The walk back to Hikari’s apartment was silent, the crickets singing their sweet lullaby. Daisuke parted ways early on, Chibimon’s growling stomach becoming impossible to ignore. Takeru found his eyes trailed to the girl’s frail figure, anxious that she would find some other way to disappear on him.

Rescuing her had been simpler than either boy had thought. It had only taken minutes for their Digimon to break into the dome, swooping down like the awkward, preteen heroes they were. Hikari was unharmed, her smile nearly blinding Takeru from his perch on Pegasusmon. It seemed that she was able to care for herself, finding a reliable hiding spot until Miyako messaged her with their plan. All too soon, the three Chosen were gathered in a heap of limbs on the floor of the computer lab, exhausted after another adventure.

His lingering gaze must have been more obvious than he thought. No sooner than they had reached the bottom of her apartment complex, Hikari halted. “Takeru, you need to relax. I’m okay,” she insisted. She gestured to herself as if to say ‘Look at me! I’m all in one piece!’ The streetlights cast shadows underneath her eyes. Gatomon stirred in her partner’s arm, her fretful sleep causing Hikari’s eyebrows to knit together.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I should have been there.” Bitterness dripped from his words. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end as the brunette gazed at him. Takeru felt as if he were eight-years-old again, promising their leader that he would do everything in his power to protect Hikari. What would Taichi say when he found out he failed?

Lost in his thoughts, the blond startled as Hikari’s hand ghosted over his shoulder. “None of us should have been there, Takeru. I’m grateful that it was me instead of the others. Miyako is so rash, she would have gotten herself hurt. Daisuke would have done something reckless, and Iori would have frozen if there was any confrontation.”

In the dim glow of the streetlight, Takeru’s eyes found hers. She was right and he knew it. If any of them could handle being stranded in another world, it would be Hikari. Emotions clouded his gaze, the color shifting to a stormy gray. “I’ll make it up to you.” His voice was so resolute and firm that it left Hikari wondering just when the boy with the green hat had gotten so strong.

He started up the stairs, giving the brunette no choice but to follow. His steps only slowed when the pair reached the Yagami’s door. The front door was worn from a childhood well-lived, the nameplate crooked in the most endearing way. A small flowerbox sat just outside their kitchen windows and without much thought Takeru plucked one of the purple stems. Hikari raised an eyebrow at his antics, but any response died in her throat when she realized how close he was.

His breath fanned her face, ruffling the strands of hair that pulled themselves loose from her barrette. A corner of Takeru’s lip curled up into a smirk, tucked the end of the flower behind Hikari’s pink-tinged ear.

“Goodnight, Hikari. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was gone before Hikari could reply, her mouth open in shock. What was that about?

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (epilogue)

tw: insecurities, implicit sex, nostalgia, bittersweet memories

Word count: 5.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev 

epilogue

“Now, please clear the floor for the First Dance.”

[When the visions around you, bring tears to your eyes]

“Shall we?” He grins, bowing slightly as he extends a hand to (Name). 

She giggles, placing her hand in his. “We shall.” 

[And all that surrounds you are secret and lies]

The lights dimmed as they made their way to the center of the dance-floor. 

“We finally got our official dance, huh?” He joked, pulling gently on a loose curl. 

[I’ll be your strength. I’ll give you hope. Keeping your faith when it’s gone. The one you should call, Was standing there all along]

Kuroo opened the door to the house, having been invited over by the pregnant woman and bearing a gift of her favorite pastry. It was week fifteen of her pregnancy. “(Name)?” He called, stepping into the living room after following the sound of sniffles. 

“K-Kuroo! You’re already here!” She frantically wiped at her face in an attempt to hide her blotchy face.

“What’s the matter?” He put the box onto the table, throwing his keys down as he sits besides her. “Why are you crying?” Kuroo gently grasps her hands, pulling it away to reveal the residual tears on her face.

“It’s silly,” she sniffled.

“You say that every time, and I tell you every time, if it bothers you, then it bothers me. So tell me, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “It’s just Bokuto.”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s gone for good, Kuroo. I don’t think he’s gonna come back for me.”

Kuroo frowned, glancing down at the phone that she had clutched in one hand. The screen showed a picture of Bokuto and (Name) from high-school. “He’s an idiot if he leaves you behind,” Kuroo says softly, both hands cupping her face to wipe the tears away. “I promise you, I’ll always be here, ok? No matter what happens.

(Name) nods, giving him a watery smile. “You’re the best, Kuroo. When will you find someone to settle down with?” She giggled, hiccuping slightly.

Kuroo’s face softens as he brings her close, holding her against his chest. “Hopefully soon, sweetheart. But for now, you’re stuck with me, okay?”

She snuggled in closer, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing deepened. Kuroo lets out a breathy chuckle.

‘She’s already here, in my arms. If only she saw me the way I saw her though.’

[And I will take you in my arms. And hold you right where you belong. ‘Til the day my life is through, This I promise you]

They spun slowly to the sound of a soft love ballad. It had been a long day. (Name) had just returned to work, bringing Hikori with her to the office. Kuroo himself had just returned from a business trip that (Name) had forced himself on. After putting their son to bed, they found themselves in each other’s embrace with a sigh of relief. 

“Y’know, I think we were supposed to save this for the wedding.” (Name) teased, looking up into hazel eyes.

Kuroo chuckled, holding her close to him. “Well, we did have a wedding.” His nose brushed against her in a tantalisingly close kiss. 

“Mmhm, you’re right,” (Name) agreed, “though we didn’t get a chance to dance during it.”

“How could we?” Kuroo teased. “With your swollen pregnant feet and our families and friends ambushing us left and right. Hardly seems like we had a chance, my dear.”

(Name) rested her head on his shoulder, humming slightly. “I love you, Tetsu.”

“I love you too, (Name). I love you so much.”

[I’ve loved you forever. In lifetimes before.]

“It only took us four years or so,” (Name) replied, (e/c) orbs gazing into hazel. 

“Eh, but those were some of the best years of my life.” Kuroo shrugged.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I finally had you in my arms.” 

Her cheeks got hot, “you’re such a dork,” she mumbled, burying it into his shoulder. His chest shook with the rumble of his laughter. 

[And I promise you never, Will you hurt anymore]

“You want me to do what?”

“Can you help me ask (Name) out?” 

Kuroo examined Bokuto’s face carefully, forcing a smile onto his expression. “You want to ask my best friend out?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto nodded aggressively. “You know her the best, do you think you could help?”

Kuroo swallowed the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t mentioned his own feelings to (Name) yet, and here he was, already on the verge of losing her. “What was your plan?” 

[I give you my word. I give you my heart.] 

After listening to Bokuto’s plan, Kuroo reluctantly agreed. After all, he wanted to see her happy and if she thought she could find that with Bokuto, then Kuroo would support her every step of the way. Or, that’s what he kept telling himself as he watched Bokuto sweep her away to the dance-floor. 

Their eyes met over Bokuto’s shoulder as (Name) faced him. Kuroo grinned at her, sending her a wink. ‘Well?’ Kuroo asked silently, his eyebrows raising slightly. ‘Do you want him?’ Bokuto pulled away, capturing her attention once more. Kuroo’s silent question was answered when (Name) leaned forward, brushing her lips against Bokuto’s cheek. 

Once again, hazel eyes met (e/c). Kuroo forced himself to smile, giving her a thumbs-up. His heart shattered. Of course she would say yes. There was not an evil bone in her body. She’s never said that she wasn’t interested in Bokuto. Kuroo’s eyes flickered between her and her new boyfriend, making a ‘shoo-ing’ gesture. No matter what happens, he’ll still be here for her. 

[This is a battle we’ve won. And with this vow, Forever has now begun]

“Tetsu...I definitely do not still love Bokuto.” 

“Are you sure?” (Name)’s heart stuttered at the veiled pain in his voice. “How do you know?” 

Tears began welling up in her eyes. “How could you ask me that?” She whispered. Kuroo shrugged, an arm covering his own eyes. “Tetsu, look at me.” He shook his head, squeezing his own eyes shut as he swallowed thickly. “Tetsu, please.”

Kuroo swallowed once more, lifting his arm off of his eyes to look at (Name) through blurry eyes. “Yes?” 

“Don’t be like that.” Her lip jutted out into a soft frown. She rolls over, hovering over him. “Tetsurou Kuroo.” Kuroo flinched as she pronounced his full name. “Yes, I dated Bokuto before we started dating. Yes, Hikori is his son. But do you know what?”

“What?” 

Tears escaped down her cheeks as she looked at her husband. “I have always been in love with you. You - you stupid, rooster-headed, ex-volleyball captain, chemist nerd, you. You were always my go-to, my day one.” One of her hands cupped her face. “You’re the reason why I know what love feels like,” she mumbles under her breath, eyes searching his. “And I wouldn’t throw that away for anything. I am sorry it took me so long to realize this.” 

[Just close your eyes, each loving day. And know this feeling won’t go away]

“I don’t know how you do it.”

She hummed, “do what love?”

They slowly spin under the lights that shone brightly only for them. 

“Look more and more beautiful every day.” He brings her hand to his lips, pressing a dainty kiss onto her knuckles. 

She chuckles. “The only reason I look beautiful is because I have you to love and care for me, Tetsu.” 

[‘Til the day my life is through, This I promise you. This I promise you]

The sound of soft snores filled the room as Kuroo sat in his chair, rocking back and forth. He glanced over at his wife, who was sprawled out on the bed. Kuroo stifled a chuckle. She’d been exhausted the past few days, waking up at all hours in order to take care of their son. Kuroo had decided to use part of his paternity leave in order to come home and support (Name) better. He hummed a soft lullaby as he looked back at the bundle in his arms. Hikori was sound asleep, soft breaths causing his small chest to rise and fall. “You truly bring us an abundance of joy,” Kuroo whispered, placing a dainty kiss onto Hikori’s forehead. His other hand reached out, settling onto (Name)’s extended hand. She made a soft noise, her fingers gently grabbing onto Kuroo’s longer ones. His eyes settled softly on his wife. “I’ll always take care of you.” His grip tightened on Hikori. “Both of you.”

[Over and over I thought. When I hear you call] 

Warmth spread through his body as he looked down at his angelic wife. “Y’know, I still can’t believe this has happened,” Kuroo admitted. “These past four or so years have honestly felt like a dream.

“Is that so?” (Name) hummed. “So you used to dream about us ending up together, roosterhead?”

“Oh only every day,” Kuroo replied, nodding solemnly. They both chuckled. 

“I’m glad it was you.” 

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad that it was you who found my heart, Tetsu.” (Name) explained, glassy eyes peering into his hazel eyes. His heart lurched as he swallowed his own tears. “And that you were patient enough to wait for me.” 

[WIthout you in my life, baby. I just wouldn’t be living at all]

“Is that it?” Kenma asked, fixing Kuroo with a hard stare. “After all these years, you’re not even going to try?” 

Kuroo looked up at his best friend with an exasperated look. “What do you mean, Kenma? What else could I do?” 

“You could confess!” Kuroo flinched, opening his mouth to respond only to get cut off again. “You’ve been in love with (Name) for so many years now, and you’re just going to let that owl-head steal her away from you?”

“Yes I will! If that’s what she wants and what will make her happier, then I will.”

“How do you know what she wants? You never even gave her a chance to know her options.” 

Kuroo shook his head. “I don’t want to put her in a weird spot or make her uncomfortable.”

“So you’d rather lose her?” 

“I’d rather be in her life as her best friend than to put our friendship at risk.”

“Do you really think (Name) would throw you out if she rejects you?” Kenma’s expression softened slightly. “We both know that would never happen.”

Kuroo gave Kenma a pained expression, words strangling him as he forced them out. “I love her. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her Kenma. But her happiness will always come first for me.” 

[And I will take you in my arms, and hold you right where you belong.]

“I love you (Name). Have for a really, really long time,” Kuroo chuckled. “I’m just glad that you could find it in your heart to love me back.” His grip tightened on her hip, pulling her closer.

They spun slowly. The golden light sparkled off of the jewelry she wore. “It was always there,” she admitted finally, squeezing his arm. “I always knew that I loved you. I just never anticipated it to be like this.”

[Til the day my life is through, This I promise you. Just close your eyes, each loving day. And know this feeling won’t go away.]

“Happy one year anniversary baby.” Kuroo whispered against her lips as he cupped her cheeks.

“I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” (Name) smiled, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of the cool metal ring on Kuroo’s hand. She raised her hands, slotting her fingers with his.  

“Thank god Hiki’s with Aya,” he grinned. 

“And why’s that?” (Name) teased, pulling back. “Tired of having to share me?”

Kuroo scooped her up in her arms, causing her to squeal. “Absolutely,” he replied. “I’ve been waiting to have you to myself all these years. Excuse me for not wanting to share you with our son.” He tosses her onto the bed, climbing on top of her with a cheeky smirk, peppering kisses all over her face. “God I love you so much.” 

“You’re such a cheeseball, roosterhead,” (Name) chided as her eyes sparkled with amusement. She rolled him over, pinning his hands above his head as she started to decorate him with her own kisses. 

“Yes, but I’m your cheeseball~!”

“Apparently so.”

“For now and always,” Kuroo teased, hazel eyes sparkling with affection.

“Maybe just for now,” she winked. He flipped them once more, eyes glinting with mischief now.

“I guess I’ll just have to re-convince you on the ‘forever’ part,” he purred. She squealed as he pounced.  

[Every word I say is true, This I promise you]

“I already said it during our vows all those years ago,” Kuroo began, pulling back to look (Name) directly in the eyes. “I promise that no matter what happens, I will remain by your side. I will take care of you, to catch you when you stumble, and share each and every day with you.” He kissed her knuckles before holding that hand close to his chest. “I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“As long as that’s for now and forever, that works out for me.” (Name)’s eyes fluttered shut, pressing her forehead against Kuroo’s.

“You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, love,” Kuroo whispered to her. 

****

As the final few notes of the song plays, Kuroo gently pulls back, tilting her chin up and capturing her lips with his. They come apart, Kuroo whispering something against her lips before they kiss again. Cheers and coos fill the air. The bridesmaids had tears streaming down their faces as they watched their best friend find her happy ending. The groomsmen had red faces, some even had redness around their eyes as they hid their own tears. The mothers of the happy couple were dabbing their cheeks with handkerchiefs, blowing their noses noisily. The fathers drank flutes of champagne as they toasted to the couples’ happiness.

Kuroo and (Name) stepped apart, her cheeks flushed red. They went back to the head table, rejoining their bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was approaching the table. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his eyes. “May I have this dance?” 

She looked up to him, offering him a soft smile as she placed her hand in his. “Of course.” They both glanced at Kuroo, who gave a gentle smile to her and nodded in Bokuto’s direction. With Kuroo’s permission, Bokuto escorts her to the dance-floor, making his way to the center of the floor. By now, other couples were also dancing with their partners. In the corner of his eye, Bokuto spots Hikori dancing with Aiko. 

[You’re in my arms and all the world is calm]

As they stepped under the lights, the world faded. Her arms snaked around his neck, fingers linking as his hands found purchase on her hips.

[The music playing on for only two. So close together, and when I’m with you, so close to feeling alive]

“You look beautiful.” He murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Golden pools bathed her in an ethereal light. Her cheeks glowed as her eyes sparkled. She looked like an angel stepping out in her white dress. (Name) was absolutely radiating. 

“Thank you Kou,” she smiled. His heart ached at the familiar sight. Just for this moment, he knew that her smile was just for him. Just like before. His grip tightened on her, pulling her closer.

[A life goes by, Romantic dreams must die. So I bid my goodbye, and never knew.]

“Hello?”

“Hey baby! I missed you!” 

(Name) giggled over the phone. “I’ve missed you too, Kou. How’s training?”

Bokuto collapsed onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. “Pretty rough,” he sighed, rolling his shoulder. His muscles ached from the rigorous training. “The guys are all so good, it’s been really hard to keep up.”

He could hear the shuffling of sheets on her end. “You’ve got this, Kou. I believe in you.” Bokuto’s eyes fluttered shut. “They wouldn’t have invited you if they didn’t think you would do well.”

Bokuto hummed. “How are things with you?”

“Good, I’m almost finished with my classes.” He could just hear the smile in her voice now. His heart skipped a beat. “Soon, I’ll officially be a recreational therapist,” she declared happily. 

Bokuto forced a smile on his face. “I’m so happy for you baby.” He was happy. He was happy for her. But he hated how he was doing. How difficult it was for him to do well during his conditioning. How could he make (Name) proud if he couldn’t even succeed at this opportunity she gave him? “I’m actually really tired, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Oh, now?” The disappointed tone in her voice almost convinced him to stay on call longer, but he shook his head.

“Yeah, gotta be up early tomorrow for more conditioning.”

“Right, you must be exhausted. Get some rest, Kou. Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bokuto stared at his phone a moment longer as the call ended before he threw it onto his nightstand. Tomorrow, he’d be better. Tomorrow, he’d make her proud. He wouldn’t call her until he could prove to himself and to her that leaving her over three hundred miles away was worth it. His pride wouldn’t allow him otherwise. 

Unfortunately, that would be the last time he heard her voice on the phone.

[So close, was waiting. Waiting here with you, and now, forever, I know.]

They slowly spun in a circle. She blinked up at him with soft doe eyes through eyelashes lengthened with mascara and falsies. “Thank you for coming. I know it must have been difficult.”

Bokuto shrugged, squeezing her tighter. “I promised you forever, didn’t I?” His throat tightened.

She let out a breathy laugh. “You did.” (Name) leaned forward, putting her head on his shoulder as she let Bokuto rock their bodies side to side. 

[All that I wanted, to hold you so close]

“(Nickname)!” The ringing of his voice was the only warning that she got before a muscular body slammed into her. She let out a wheeze as her soul left her body.

“Kou!” She choked, slapping his back. Bokuto’s booming laugh filled the gym as he spun her round and round until they both felt dizzy. He placed her feet gently back onto the ground, arms still wound tightly around her. “Ooh, don’t do that, I feel sick,” she groaned, swaying in his arms. (Name) squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing as she attempted to recalibrate. Getting injured on their first day of training camp, year two, would not be fun. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you!” Of course, Bokuto immediately collapsed onto the floor due to his own dizziness, pinning her underneath him.

“Someone’s excited to see me,” she teased, patting his shoulder affectionately. “Now get off me, ya lug. You’re squishing me!” 

Bokuto rolled over, letting her lay on his chest as he nuzzled her hair. “Is this better?”

Heat surged up to her cheeks as she quickly averted her eyes. “S-sure.” 

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Kou.”

[So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.]

“One of these days, I’m going to marry you, y’know?" 

“Is that so?” 

One of his hands brushed through her hair as the other played with her fingers as they laid in their shared bed. It was a few days after they’d moved in together. “Of course, you’re the love of my life, (Nickname). I can’t imagine a future without you in it.” 

She giggled, slotting her fingers in his and giving them a squeeze. “I love you, Kou.”

“I love you too. You’re it for me. You’re the endgame for me.” (Name) tilted her face up. Bokuto leaned down, capturing her lips with us. Their lips slotted together so perfectly. As he pulled back, he couldn’t stop the grin that overtook his features. “Yep, definitely my endgame.” 

[And now you’re beside me, and look how far we’ve come.]

“And then, Kuroo ended up tripping and spilling his tea all over me.” (Name) giggled, brushing her hair back with her free hand. She was swinging their intertwined hands as they walked home from their date. It was the summer before their first year of college.  

Bokuto planted his feet, chewing on his lip as he steeled his nerves. “(Name)?” At the sound of his voice, she paused, turning to look at her boyfriend.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” 

Her eyes widened. “You what?” 

“I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you our first year of high-school.” Shock faded from her features only to be overcome with joy. “Oh no, why are you crying?” Bokuto panicked, reaching for her face.

His hand caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “I love you too, dummy.” 

[So far we are, so close]

They spun slightly, swaying to the music. Bokuto pressed his forehead against hers, breathing in her sweet perfume. 

His eyes fluttered shut, pretending that this was all just for them. 

That the golden band on her finger had been given by him. 

That the spotlight shone brightly for what was once their love. 

Where his son was raised by him instead of a stranger. 

When she was his, and he was hers. 

[Oh how could I face the faceless days, if I should lose you now]

A hand tapped on his shoulder, bringing him out of his stupor. “Mind if I cut in?” 

Bokuto offered Kuroo a resigned, sorrowful smile, nodding as he stepped back. “Of course.” Bokuto gave (Name) one last smile. “Thank you.” 

Both husband and wife gave him a smile. 

His heart clenched.

[We’re so close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.] 

“Thank you, Kou.” Kuroo squeezed his shoulder, before taking his place. Kuroo’s arms snaked around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to him. She giggled, placing her head on his shoulder as Kuroo spun his wife away from Bokuto.

[Let’s go on dreaming for we know we are so close] 

Feet pounded towards him as a small shape pounced on Bokuto. “Kou-san!” Bokuto turned, opening up his arms as Hikori jumped into his arms. “You and Mama looked so nice together!”

[So close, and still so far]

Bokuto glanced back at the married couple, Say You Won’t Let Go playing as they stayed for another dance. Away from their well-wishers off in a world of their own. A wistful look filled his expression.

“Whoa, careful babe!” Bokuto chuckled, a hand on (Name)’s waist. She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“I wanna dance s’more!” She slurred, the smell of beer fanning across his face.

“You can barely stand,” Kuroo piped up beside her with Bokuto nodded firmly, their own cheeks tinted red from the alcohol.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home and we can dance there, ok?” He promised, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. Bokuto looks up at Kuroo. “We’ll see you later, okay?”

(Name) stumbled up, making grabby hands at Kuroo. “Bye Tetsu~! I’ll miss youuuu,” she said. Kuroo patted her cheek, a soft expression on his face.

“Take care of her, Bo.” Kuroo clapped Bokuto on the back before turning around and walking down the street towards his own apartment.

As they got into the taxi on their way home, (Name) was crawling all over Bokuto’s body. “Baby, don’t do that,” he chided, amused. 

“I wanna cuddle,” she pouted. 

He scooped her into his lap, nuzzling into her neck. “I love you so much baby.” 

“I love you too, Kou,” she mumbled, burying her face into his. “S’much. Wanna be with you forever.”

“Always, baby.” 

Bokuto shook his head slightly, chuckling as he patted Hikori’s head affectionately. “You and Aiko did too, ‘Kori.” 

“Do you think?” Hikori blinked up with matching golden pools. 

“Definitely!” Bokuto smiled. “You should go give her something. Maybe go get her a cupcake?”

“That’s a great idea! Thank you, Kou-san.” With that, Hikori leapt out of Bokuto’s arms and went sprinting towards the dessert aisle. 

Bokuto sighed, making his way back to his table. Akaashi sat there, sipping from a glass of wine beside Kenma who was avoiding the rowdiness of the Head Table. Kenma glanced up at Bokuto as he collapsed into his seat. “I think I’ll go get some dessert.” Kenma stood, nodding at Bokuto before making his way to the dessert table, intercepting Hikori who had a plate towered high with all types of sweets. 

Kenma took the plate from the boy, pointing at his parents and whispering something to Hikori. Hikori nodded seriously, before running to Kuroo and (Name). Kuroo laughed, scooping Hikori up. Kuroo placed Hikori onto her shoulders. (Name) held onto Hikori’s thigh, the other holding Kuroo’s as they spun together, laughing joyfully. 

“How are you feeling, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto shrugged, pouring himself a new glass of wine and downing it. “I’m...happy for them.”

“But?”

He let out a soft chuckle, middle finger tracing the mouth of his glass. “But I really wish I hadn’t let her go.” 

Akaashi squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto shrugged off Akaashi’s hand. “S’okay. It’s my own fault anyways.” They turned, watching as Kuroo dipped her slightly. She squealed as she fell into a fit of giggles, before Kuroo pulled her back up and pressed his lips to hers. Hikori was back in his father’s arms, making a face at his parents’ display of affection. 

Bokuto turned back to his glass, filling it once more.

The microphone sounded out as the last song faded out. “May I have everyone’s attention?” Kuroo stood in the very front of the hall, (Name) standing beside him, Hikori in her arms. 

“First of all, thank you to everyone for coming. It means a lot to (Name) and me that you were here for our wedding day, especially after four years of waiting for our special little man to join us.” The crowd laughed. Kuroo turned to face his wife, squeezing her hip. “Since you’re already all gathered here today, we do have a special announcement.” Kuroo looked down at his wife, hazel eyes sparkling with love and deep affection before he grinned at his son, pinching Hikori’s cheek. “Hikori, guess what?”

“What, Dad?”

“You’re going to be a big brother.” 

The crowd erupted into noise. Some of the males hooted and hollered at Kuroo. Ladies gasped and shrieked in delight. (Name)’s mother burst into more tears. But to be fair, she hadn’t really stopped. She’d been crying since the vow renewal. And then was overwhelmed with another fit of tears during their first dance. 

But for Bokuto? 

The world froze. The noise faded into black as he stared blankly at the couple. He watched with unfocused eyes as she was surrounded by her bridesmaids. Her maid of honor, Aya, was tugging on (Name)’s arm and mutedly shouting over the empty noise. Kuroo’s groomsmen surrounded him, Yaku slapping a hand onto his back. Bokuto snapped out of his reverie as a small body collided with his. 

“Kou-san!” Bokuto’s head jerked down, staring as Hikori tugged on his arm. “Did ya hear that?” Bokuto forced his face into a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Akaashi sent him a sympathetic look, excusing himself.

“Yeah! You’re gonna be a big bro, little man.” 

“Papa said I’m going to have a sister!” Hikori’s eyes sparkled with joy, beaming. Absentmindedly, Bokuto wondered if that’s what he looked like when he was happy. Hikori hesitated for a moment. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

His question snapped Bokuto out of his self-pity spiral. “Aw, ‘Kori, she’s gonna love ya!” Bokuto nuzzled his nose into Hikori’s cheeks, blowing air onto them.

Hikori squealed, squirming in his arms. “Stop it, Kou-san!” 

Bokuto pulled back, beaming. “C’mon, let’s go get some more ice cream, okay?” 

“Yes!” Hikori bounced up, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Bokuto finished another glass of wine, noticing Akaashi’s wince in the corner of his eyes before Bokuto went with Hikori to the dessert table.  

Bokuto scanned the banquet hall. It was beautiful, to say the least. Kuroo and (Name) were well-established in their careers, and were able to go all-out on this dream-like wedding. Fairy lights hung in tulle curtains on all of the walls, and mini-chandeliers hung over each table. Blush pink, gold, and white flowers made the centerpieces with more fairy lights in the vases. Those were surrounded by candles floating in water-filled shot-glasses. Small plastic boxes with succulents propped on top sat at each seat, a tag with the seat’s name sticking out of it and macarons enclosed in the box. 

Just like her first wedding, the room felt almost like a volleyball reunion. At one table, Iwaizumi was with Oikawa and the former Karasuno members. Bokuto and Hikori walked by as Iwaizumi was smacking the Argentinian player on the head for some ridiculous comment or another. 

Nekoma’s alumni had their own table. Lev was sitting there arguing with Shibayama and Inuoka. Bokuto and Akaashi had been seated together, joined by Bokuto’s teammates from the MSBY Black Jackals. Konoha had been invited as a groomsmen since his wife was the Maid of Honor. At the moment, Bokuto’s team-mates were scattered throughout the hall. Some were mingling with other members of the Japan national team. He could vaguely spot Atsumu flirting with one of the bridesmaids at their table. 

“Alright little man, what type of ice cream do you want?” They stopped in front of the ice cream stand that was near the dessert table. Bokuto scooped Hikori up into his arms so that he could peer down into the ice-box. 

“Can I get chocolate and strawberry?” 

“Of course!” Bokuto relayed the ice cream order to the lady working the stand, who smiled at Bokuto and Hikori.

“Your son is very cute,” she complimented, rolling her sleeves up to scoop up the chocolate.

Bokuto gave her a forced smile, the bitter taste of envy surging forward. “He’s not mine. He’s the bride’s.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She bowed, handing Bokuto the cup of ice cream, who handed it to Hikori. “Feel free to grab as many toppings as you’d like, ok?” She smiled, gesturing to the table beside her stand.

“Thank you!” Hikori bowed to her, before scrambling over to the tables. 

Bokuto grinned at his son, before thanking the nice ice cream lady and following him. “Oh, Kou!” He turned, his smile freezing on his face.

“He-hey, (Name)!” 

She smiled at him, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you so much for watching Hiki.” Bokuto’s eyes closed as he enjoyed her warmth, letting it seep through his body and settle into the gaping black hole of his heart. “I can’t imagine how much it means to you, and I’m so thankful that you’re in his life,” she whispered into his ear before pulling away. As soon as she did, he couldn’t help but lean in towards her, chasing the remnants of the sun like a child chasing after the sunset. 

“I’m just glad that I could be a part of his life.” Bokuto forced his lips up higher. They stood side by side, watching together as their son came back with a tower of toppings on his ice cream. “Whoa, be careful or you’ll make a mess ‘Kori.”

“I will, Kou-san!”

“Let’s sit down so you don’t spill everywhere,” (Name) suggested, gesturing to the nearest empty table. Bokuto pulled out her chair for her, waiting for her to sit down before taking his seat. Hikori sat in between them. 

“Shouldn’t you be greeting people and accepting congratulations?”  

She snorted, kicking her heels off with a sigh of relief. “Kuroo can do that. My feet are aching.” (Name) sent him a bemused smile. “Guess that’s just what happens when you’re wearing heels all day while pregnant.”

Bokuto choked on air, before he focused his attention on Hikori who was eagerly scooping ice cream into his mouth. Bokuto grabbed one of the napkins, wiping the ice cream marks off of Hikori’s cheeks. “Congratulations, by the way.”  

“Thanks, Kou.” 

Bokuto scanned the room, anxious for some words to fill the silence. “You look beautiful,” he blurted. 

(Name) giggled, fiddling with her earring. “You said that already, Kou.”

“Mama does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” Hikori piped up, gazing with childlike awe between his mother and father. “Like an angel!”

“You’re right, ‘Kori. Your mother does look like an angel.” Bokuto ruffled Hikori’s hair. 

(Name) sighed as she caught Kuroo gesturing for her to join him. He was currently being swarmed by her family members. “Alright you flirts, don’t make a mess okay? I need to go save my husband.” With a final wave, (Name) picked up her heels with her fingertips and sauntered over to Kuroo.

****

As (Name) and Kuroo said goodbye to their guests, they handed out small burlap bags to all the adults. Bokuto chuckled at them. “Hangover Kit” was emblazoned on the bags, joined with the Red Cross logo. Fitting for someone in the medical industry. Hikori and Aiko were handing out small bags of candies and toys to all the kids who were exiting, carefully supervised by Konoha. Aya was supervising the clean-up of the hall.    

“Be good for Kou-san when we’re gone, okay, Hiki?”

“Yes, Mama!” Hikori kicked at the ground, pouting slightly. “Can’t I come?”

“Next time, Hiki, ok?” Kuroo squatted down, extending a hand to Hikori. “I promise you, we’ll take you on a special trip just us three before your sister comes, ok?” 

Hikori linked his pinky with his father, nodding aggressively. “Ok!” Kuroo opened his arms, letting Hikori jump into them. “I love you, Papa!” 

“Love you too, Hiki.” Kuroo rubbed Hikori’s back before placing him down and letting (Name) hug her son.

“I love you, Hiki. I promise, we’ll be home in a few days okay?” She bent down, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bye Mama! I love you too.” 

Hikori was released from his parents, backing up until he ran into Bokuto’s legs. Bokuto scooped him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of him.”

“Thanks Kou.” (Name) kissed his cheek, hugging both of them. Bokuto savored the moment. “We’ll see you on Monday!” 

“Let’s go love.” Kuroo opened the backseat door to Kenma’s car, who would be driving them to the airport. “Thanks Bokuto.” Kuroo nodded at the other male, before helping (Name) into the car. With one final wave, the couple were racing down the streets.

“I’ll miss them.”

Bokuto ruffled Hikori’s hair. “Me too.” 

His heart screamed at him. To chase after her one more time. To hold her in his arms. They were so close. Words clawed at his throat, threatening to choke him as he swallowed back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. 

I love you, (Name). I never stopped loving you. I was an idiot for ghosting you. An idiot for leaving you. Please, come back. I wanna raise our son with you. 

I wish we could be parents together for Hikori. 

I wish that I was taking you on our honeymoon. 

I wish that you were pregnant with my daughter. 

I wish we still lived together in that house we bought all those years ago. 

I wish that you were still mine. 

Please.

But Bokuto remained silent, watching as the car drove the love of his life further and further away from him. He looked down at his lockscreen. A photo of his red Japan national jersey stared back at him. It’s said that what you set as your lock-screen would end up being the most important thing to you. 

At the end of the day, that was the choice he made. 

Volleyball. 

Not a future with the love of his life. 

Not a future with kids. 

Not a future with (Name).

*****

AN: And that’s a wrap y’all! How are we feeling? Is this what you expected? What was your favourite part about Lockscreens? 

Please, spam my ask-box with your thoughts/comments/ideas. God I’m so emotional just posting this asdfghjkl

Since the series has officially wrapped up, feel free to ask for more supplements! I do have (2) more Lockscreens supplements to work on from the 600 follower event, but I’ll permanently be opening up supplements for Lockscreens on an “if I like it, I’ll write it” basis. 

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora  @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother @setterfish @toobsessedsstuff @yeehawslap @shadowkunoichi @haikyuusimp91  @firebonbon @mentalydisturbed@samkysnks @dolan-mendes16  @loudpoetry23 @estmagnifique @milkteeboba @newfriendjen  @sempiternal-amour @scrappyfka @ mayor-chu-of-many-towns @bokutosdivineass @yeahhemmings- @elianetsantana @strawhatshepard @caramel-chuuya @sol-demure  @song-of-storms162 @rogueofbullshit @cheerysparkle @killlerqween @aomineavenue​ @fatal-impact​ @isleofnajera​ @safa-a07​ @shoyomeow​ @vicassa​ @shrimpypenis​ @craftyfawns​ @london-quynh​ @katelyns-stuff​  @leinnah​ @yoitsseulgi​ @tazzi-baby @babyydragon21 

I couldn’t tag names in bold.

Thank you again for going on this journey with me. 

[static-fanatic-1]

Tattooed-Uvogin

(Tattoo Soulmate AU- Where tattoos are shared by soulmates, if a soulmate dies then the other looses their ability to have nen and the tattoo disappears. I love soulmate AU's, they're fun. Also when Uvogin gets the spider tattoo he will be 24.)

(Female Reader)

College is usually portrayed in two ways, absolutely fantastic where breaking into song is the norm, or a horrid experience akin to horny Lovecraftian creatures. In this case the song song type of college is the norm.

Most individuals in college receive a tattoo, whether it be their own or their soulmates. Usually it is a happy occasion when that happens. Most would flaunt their new mark and spit out how much they wanted to meet their soulmate, but (y/n) was an exception.

Junior year, the hope of a new age of adulthood quickly coming up. The twenty-two old started to strip. Why strip? Well because she had decided to wait her junior year to get her athletic credit, and because she wanted to see a tattoo if she were to get one. But the first reason is what people think. Practically tearing off the jacket she wore and tossing it onto a bench, (y/n) jumped at the sudden shrieks and hollers from across the room.

"Lilith! Holy shit look!" Deciding to see what the commotion was about, (y/n) leaned over to watch the event unfold. On her lower back, almost covered by her shoulder length blonde hair, was a beautiful koi tattoo. As if swimming the splash of blue, orange and cream colors contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone.

"What?! Oh my god show me!" Lilith squealed, pushing away girls to get to the nearest mirror. The brightest smile decorated her pink lips and when she finally saw the new mark on her shoulder, she waved around her hands and jumped with unrivaled joy. "I can't fucking believe it!"

"Do you think he just turned 21? Like today's his birthday or something?" Another girl exclaimed, staring at the inked shin with awe.

"Probably! Most people get them when they turn 21. God I'm so excited! I'm posting this everywhere to see if someone answers."

More girls crowded around Lilith, the light tapping of gentle fingers bringing (y/n) back to her senses. Turning around the female met with her dearest friend. "What?"

"Ms. Venal will snap at us if we aren't ready, best not to get on her bad side again. She might make us do push-ups for a warm up again." The soft voice and her light brown hair and eyes pairing nicely with her shy personality.

"Oh shit you're right." Swiftly (y/n) moved back to the back of the locker room, pulling off her pants at the same time. Replacing them with gym shorts with the school logo she quickly followed by her favorite shirt.

Grabbing the school shirt she jumped when someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. "(Y/n)! Your back!"

Before (y/n) could protest she was pulled to her friends locker with a hand mirror shoved in her face. Hesitantly she grabbed it and moved it around her face, trying to see what Jessy was talking about. Finally, a large dark tattoo revealed itself on her lower back, spider legs and a white eleven in the center.

"Looks like a spider, but with twelve legs? Weird." Jessy replied, lightly tracing the many legs now inked into her friend's skin. "You seem... disappointed? (Y/n) you good?"

(Y/n) shrugged, surprisingly it was underwhelming compared to what she thought it would be like. I mean the weird spider on her back was the key to finding her soulmate right? Yet it still felt like a normal school day. "Kinda underwhelming I guess."

"Hey (y/n), you got one too? I honestly thought you wouldn't get one." The snarky voice of Lilith echoed in the locker room, a new hand placing itself on (y/n)'s shoulder. "A spider, really?"

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, Jessy moving to put on the last of her clothes. "They probably just like spiders, so what?"

"Looks like they don't know how to count, that's sad." Lilith remarked, poking at the inked flesh. "Didn't you get a tattoo not too long ago, what was it again?"

"A (favorite animal)." (Y/n) mumbled grabbing her school shirt and putting it on.

"Wow, classic."

(Y/n) pretty much had enough of this and turned to the blonde with vigor. Placing a figure on the new koi fish tattoo. "Wow, classic cunt."

The blonde scoffed, but was quickly interrupted when the teacher called out. "Girls, hurry up or you all are going to do more push-ups!"

Lilith mumbles underneath her breath, venomous words that didn't pass (y/n). "Go fuck yourself." She had said.

In a last ditch effort to get some satisfaction, the (h/c) haired girl turned to the blonde and smiled. "After you."

Man school was just dandy.

~~~

For some reason the drive home felt longer than usual, the songs uninteresting and slow.  But that didn't stop the sigh of relief when entering her home. Maybe telling her parents about the tattoo would bring up her spirits? They always wanted to see what it would end up being.

"Momma! I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled, letting the fact sink in to any occupants.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, and paused. Her dad, usually sitting with his back straight and glasses on, now held his lenses with his face in his hand. "Hey dad, you're home early. Everything alright?"

Swiftly his head shot up, (h/c) hair messy unlike usual. "Huh? Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine, just a lot of work is all. We're still trying to find who stole Ruby Red, that jewel is worth a few billion Jenny."

The man's daughter pulled a chair and sat down across from him, opening her snack to start eating it. "I still can't believe someone was able to take it, isn't the security pretty high?"

"Yup, and Ruby Red wasn't the only thing they took. They took a few other gems too." Her mother butted in, placing a kiss upon her husband's cheek. "Whoever did it defiantly had help, you're dad placed too many security guards for it to have been one guy."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, the fact it was more than one person sans all too surprising, but how did they get past the armed guards in the first place? "So what exactly happened? Like to the guards I mean."

"Well... that's just it. We don't know." The dad rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built. "They just vanished... poof, gone. No sign of a struggle, no blood, all of it gone."

The mother removed her hand and pulled up a chair, sitting down and taking a sip of whatever is in her mug. "Yeah, pretty crazy stuff. I've been looking through the cameras and I think they have been tampered with. Whoever took the merchandise wasn't a rookie. They knew what they were doing."

"Who do you guys think did it? The mafia?" The daughter asked, looking at both her parents.

"A new group has been floating around, something called the Phantom Troupe. They are pretty much the worst of the worst." The brunette mother replied, placing her cup down and getting more comfortable.

"Worse than the mafia?" (Y/n) questioned.

"Pretty much, this gang took out the entire Kurta clan just a few months ago. They took their eyes and everything." There was a pause, easily taken up by the gravity of the situation her parents were in.

Her father butted in. "Anyway, anything happened at school? How's Jessy doing, she can come over for dinner tonight too. Martha said she was making lobster claws and steak."

"Ah, well, Jessy's doing fine and I'm sure she'd love to come over again. I'll go ahead and text her." (Y/n) pulled out her phone and did just that, asking if her friend wanted to come over again.

"What else, I feel like your hiding something." Martha asked, leaning closer to her daughter with a sly smile.

Small bits of sweat started to form on her brow, right now didn't exactly seem like a good time to talk about an odd tattoo. "Well I cursed someone out, that was fun."

Her dad groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god was it that Lilith bitch again?"

"Edgar!" Martha snapped, slapping the man on his shoulder and she lightly scolded him. The both of them knew their daughters relationship with that girl. All they had to say is if the coward ever threw a punch, to lay her ass on that ground. (Y/n) was still waiting for her to throw it.

A small ping from a phone ringed, the daughter pulling hers out and slightly smiling. At least when Jessy comes over she would have emotional support over the weird tattoo. "Yeah, it was her again. Anyway, mom do you want any help, Jessy said she would come over."

"Sure, honey. I'd like that."

~~~

The air was tense, sweat slowly forming on (y/n)'s brows as her dearest friend babbled on and on about her early day bravery. "Lilith couldn't say a word to us for the rest of the day! It was hilarious." Jessy boasted, laughing at the sense painted in her head.

Though Martha and Edgar looked at their daughter dumbfounded. "Sooo, is there a reason why you didn't tell us about your new tattoo?" The mother asked, leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand.

"Ah, well you know, it's kinda embarrassing."

"Seriously, you didn't tell them?!"

"I said it's embarrassing!" (Y/n) reinstated, moving her hands in front of her face to attempt stopping the forming blush.

"So! Show us!" Martha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

(Y/n) grumbled a bit and stood up from her chair, lightly pulling up the back of her shirt. On her lower back the sideways spider laid, twelve legs spread out for the world to see.

Silence followed, the air thicker than it once was. "Yeah, it's a little weird. Honestly it was underwhelming getting it." (Y/n) tried to release the growing tension with a light laugh, though it didn't do much.

"Y-Yeah, it is a little weird isn't it?" Edgar had replied, moving to lightly trace his fingers on the inked skin. "Well I don't think most people have twelve-legged spiders on their backs so it shouldn't be too difficult to find out who this guy is."

~~~

Those words meant so much now, after seeing the news talk about Ruby Red's disappearance and how it was linked to a group of mass murderers, the words felt heavy.

Changing to homeschooling was the first thing to happen, as having people see such a dangerous tattoo could endanger your family. Hunters would travel far and wide to catch the soulmate of a Phantom Troupe member, to sell or kill them for the highest price tag. So being around other reckless students was a big no-no.

Next was their home, moving to the outskirts of York New city to start fresh, where no one would know who they were. Getting a new job wasn't too difficult for Martha and Edgar, as security personnel was important everywhere.

Though (y/n) herself wasn't allowed a job, too risky they would say. And Jessy, well at least she was still there. The friend would visit every so often to catch up, and texting each other became an everyday occurrence.

It had been five years since that dinner, and now fear and anxiety ruled over (y/n)'s life. Walking on the streets it seemed every passerby was a possible hunter, just waiting to catch her and slit her throat.

(Y/n) could only trust Jessy and her parents.

The ringing of a phone smacked the female from her train of thoughts, papers she was once working on discarded. Picking up the device and placing it on her ear, a sweet voice rang with an excited undertone. "Yo, (y/n). Whatcha up to?"

A delicate smile pulled at the (h/c) haired lips. "Fine, just doing mom and dads paperwork. Kinda the only job they'll let me have."

There a was a light hearted laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well I'm going to have a few days off of work it you want to meet up and have a few drinks. I'll be coming in sometime tomorrow evening if you want to meet up then?"

"I'd love to, I'll just have to ask mom and dad, you know how they are."

"Yeah, can't blame them though. I mean it's scary."

"Yeah... I'll call you a little later with an answer okay? See you later Jessy, tell me when you get here and I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Alright, sounds good to me! Bye-bye!"

"Bye." Her smile faded when the phone call ended, at least it wouldn't be too bad. Now she just had to get on her knees and beg her parents.

Searching through the apps on the phone she ended up on the calling one, but paused. 'I'll just ask them when they get home, I'll drive over there soon.' Tossing the electronic on her bed (y/n) sighed and leaned back in her seat.

~~~

After plenty of begging and a semi-long drive to the airport, the now ecstatic girls drove around the city to wherever this bar was.

"Okay okay, (y/n), don't get mad at me but I invited a few other friends." Jessy timidly said, scrunching her body as close as possible to her seat.

"Who?" Was all said, making the other girl all the more afraid of an anxious outburst.

"Just a girl I met the bar once, her name is Shizuku. She said she's bringing another friend over, another girl. Don't worry though she's a bit of an airhead, an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her." Jessy relaxed, not noticing any changes with her friend's behavior. "Sorry I wanted to tell you but if you told Edgar and Martha they probably wouldn't have let you go! I just really wanted to hang out with you."

"Don't worry, mom and dad don't have to know." (Y/n) turned and gave a small wink before turning back to the road.

Jessy sighed, relieved to finally have some fun without much worry. "Oh oh! Right here!" The car slowly drove into the parking lot, the two searching for a spot to park. "Oh! They're over there." The two girls exited and quickly made their way to another pair.

The first girl Jessy walked to and hugged had shoulder length black hair and large round glasses. Large, plum doe like eyes gazed at (y/n) with innocent intrigue. Her casual wear consisting of a long black sleeved shirt and black shorts complimented her hourglass body type. She honestly looked adorable.

The other was a blonde clearly taller than her ravenette friend. Calculating eyes, short hair in a bob and a hooked nose gave her a demanding audience. The woman wore a red, low cut baby doll dress that ended on her mid thigh, and black heels making her even taller.

"Okay guys, this is (y/n), she's been my friend ever since middle school." Jessy placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, (y/n) shyly waving and saying hello. "And (y/n) this is Shizuku and her number two, Pakunoda." They too did the same thing.

"Alrighty! Now that we have all the introductions out of the way!" Exclaimed Jessy, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and waving for the other two to follow. "Let's get absolutely trashed!"

Pakunoda snorted and followed, all four of them entering the not-so-much-a-bar-as-it-is-a-club building.

Jessy grabbed a table, putting some of her things down to mark it as her own. "I'll go ahead and get something to get this party started! Anything in particular you guys want?"

Shizuku places a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Pakunoda wrapped an arm around the ravenette and shook her head. "Surprise us."

(Y/n) quickly waved her hands. "Don't get me something strong, I'll be the designated driver." She laughed, Shizuku finally making up her mind.

"Something fruity!"

She did somewhat seem like an airhead.

After plenty of drinks for the four, and pleasant conversation between the girls, Jessy was finally breaking under the alcohol. Her slim build swaying even when she sat in the booth's chair. "Y'all wanna hear a funny story? Or at least its funny to me." She slurred.

Pakunoda, sitting on the outside of the curved booth, leaned in. "Sure." Elbow now on the table and head in her hand. A delicate smile etched onto her lips, her eyes calculating as an extra hand served her drink.

(Y/n) listened to her start talking about Lilith, the old school bully having many stories about her. "I'm going to go to the restroom." She tapped Jessy's shoulders and moved over and out of the conversation.

Shizuku listened carefully to the slurring female, Pakunoda doing the same. Slowly the story became interesting, talking about receiving tattoos and snapping at the girl named Lilith.

But more importantly, a tattoo received on a lower back. (Y/n)'s lower back.

By the time said female returned all had paused, both Shizuku and Pakunoda silent but attentive. Jessy moved over to let her friend back in the booth they had claimed, Pakunoda placing a slender arm across her shoulders. "You have quite the temper don't you?"

Remembering what they had been talking about, the comment didn't surprise (y/n) all that much. "Lilith? Haha, yeah I hated her. She was difficult to deal with, always trying to one up everyone." (Y/n) waved her hand around to dismiss her temper, truly she couldn't stand people like Lilith. "Don't worry I'm much better now." Again she lightly laughed.

"You seem like it, you're so shy. I honestly didn't expect a story like that." Paku replied, leaning in a little closer.

"Which one was it? I've kinda snapped at her a lot."

"The one where ya' finally got yer tattoo~!" Jessy replied, sandwiching the poor girl between the two.

(Y/n)'s entire body went rigid, her breathing slightly labored by her hammering heartbeat. 'No, no, no Jessy couldn't have told that story, she wouldn't. She knows how dangerous it is for me already, telling people would make it worse!'

She would be hunted by hunters and the Phantom Troupe alike if the wrong people were to find out.

Doing her best to relax, her shoulders not so tense anymore. "Ye-Yeah, it's a bit of a strange one but I don't mind it too much. What time is it?"

Shizuku looked at her phone, her mouth wishing to yap about how Uvogin would love the girl. Or how Uvogin is just a call away from finding his soulmate. OR ANYTHING RELATED! But alas, the bone crushing grip placed on her thigh along with straight up saying it earlier, told her to shut it.

Now with a pouting face she checked the time. "It's 12:48."

Mumbling a short 'shit', (y/n) grabbed her purse and stood up. "Sorry! I was supposed to go home an hour ago!" She examined her phone with a pale face, not just from her tattoo being revealed, but the endless messages from her parents. "Does anyone need a ride?"

Jessy leaned in more, her lips ghosting (y/n)'s ear. "I would love to ride."

Pushing her drunk friend off, (y/n) made her way out of the booth, Jessy wrapped in her arms as the girl stumbled. "You two?"

Shizuku lifted her finger, her mouth opening to speak, but was quickly stopped when a hand smacked itself on her lips. "Don't worry about us." Paku replied, waving a dismissive hand.

"Al-alright. Well we'll be off then, take care!" Quickly grabbing her things, and Jessy, the two slipped out of the club.

Shizuku smacked Paku's hand away and pushed up her glasses. "What was that for?!"

Pakunoda shifted out of her seat, looking around at the other inhabitants of the establishment. "You were going to say something about Uvo, weren't you?"

The ravenette pursed her lips and turned away, scooting out of the booth as well. "So what if I was? It wouldn't stop us from getting her anyway." Whined the girl.

"It would have made getting her harder, she's already cautious of everyone." The two girls exited the bar, stopping to watch (y/n)'s car drive away. "Besides it won't be too difficult for Shalnark to find her."

"Didn't you touch her?" Shizuku pushed her glasses up once more, turning to wonder off to home base.

"Of course, she was very anxious the entire time, and she was weary of us from the beginning."

The ravenette hummed, both wondering through the lit up city. Smoke polluted the air of the alleyways they traveled through, the moonlight basking the criminals in an ethereal glow. The alleyway became too quiet, the once light sounds of buzzing insects feasting on the dumpsters silenced.

The girls stopped, looking at the empty sidewalk in front of them. They could sense two individuals, on in front of them and the other behind. Were the stalkers going to try and jump them? Did they know who they are? Well it doesn't matter, the stalkers will be dead soon.

"Well well well," A gruff voice echoed from behind. "Looks like the butterflies flew into the spider's web. How about you two be sweethearts and tell me about that friend of yours? The one with the (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes."

Shizuku turned around to face the man, noting the switch blade open and poised in his hands. "He has a knife, Paku."

The man 'tsk'ed slowly walking closer to the girls. Paku stared straight ahead, the other stalker finally revealing himself, a scrawny man with a baggy shirt and large knife.

Pakunoda sighed and pulled out her revolver, aiming straight between the scrawny man's eyes. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight." A quick pull of the trigger and a loud bang caused the man to fall over, a small hole oozing blood and smoke between his glossy orbs.

Shizuku summoned Blinky and with a quick bonk on his head, the gruff voiced man collapsed to the ground.

"Shizuku, is he dead?"

"I didn't hit him that hard." With a hum and a finger on his neck. "Nope, he's alive."

"Good." She swayed over to the man and placed a hand upon his cheek. A rush of memories and emotions entered her mind, like the ripples in water. "They weren't alone, they called others before following us. We should hurry before they find her first."

"They'll kill her won't they?"

"Probably."

"Uvogin would loose his nen if that happened, hmm, we can't let that happen."

Nothing new happened after their encounter, the dark streets now baron by the late night and the rundown buildings. Turning the corner to enter the hideout, a face revealed itself, young and distressed, their thin black brows furrowed.

No words were exchanged, the girls entering without a care. A sigh left the short man's lips as he walked with them into the church. "Machi had a feeling again. What happened?"

Shizuku hopped her way onto a pile of rubble and sat down with an impassive expression. "We were attacked by some thugs on our way back. Though, it was more like a one-way-massacre."

The entire Troupe was in the broken down office building, there were preparing to infiltrate a museum filled with priceless artifacts, but it might have to be postponed.

Feitan didn't look at Shizuku, already knowing her information may very well be useless. "Paku?"

"Shizuku's friend brought a number two as well, she just so happened to be a soulmate." Pakunoda teased, crossing her arms.

The small group playing cards stopped, even Chrollo averted his eyes from his book of interest. Feitan's brows lifted slightly, probably in surprise.

"Ah! That happened too."

Franklin snorted, placing down his cards and shifting to face Paku. Shalnark, Nodunaga, Machi, Kortopi, Bonolenov, and Franklin were huddled up in a small circle playing cards, though the game was now paused. Uvogin, the secret star of the show, was rooting for Nodu to finally win a game. "Who?"

A delicate smirk etched itself on her features, a slender finger pointing to the bear-like man sitting behind Nobunaga.

With that action taken, the bear-like man grabbed Nobunaga and wrapped his arm around his head. The other hand pulling out the ponytail and messing up his hair as a boisterous laughs echoed throughout the building.

Franklin smacked a hand on Uvogin's shoulder and congratulated them, Nobu yelling for Uvo to let go. Once he finally let him go, the shorter man smacked Uvo.

Uvogin didn't exactly care, all he knew is that his soulmate was found and that she was his next target. "Keep talking Paku." Uvo kindly ordered, curiosity taking hold.

"Well she's pretty cute, (h/l) (h/c) hair, bright (e/c) eyes. She's pretty attentive." Pakunoda waved her hands around, finding a seat on the opposite side of the large room.

Another hearty laugh escaped the bellows of his chest. "Finally! Took her long enough." He exclaimed, clapping and rubbing hands together. "Where is she?"

Pakunoda shrugged. "Her name is (y/n) (l/n), Shal will have to figure that out."

Chrollo hummed, grabbing the attention of the room. "Uvo, once you find out where she lives I want you to get her, it would be a shame if you lost your nen." He paused and placed a bookmark in his spot. "Paku does anyone else know?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes, the thugs overheard and called a few of their friends. I don't know how many."

Chrollo hummed once more, leaning in a bit closer to the group. "Once Shal figures out her whereabouts I want you and Nabu to go with Uvo. And be cautious, we don't know how strong the hunters will be."

Uvogin laughed, hands on his hips as he threw his head back. "I will."

"Found her!" Shalnark yelped, a bright smile stretched across his cheeks. "(Y/n) (l/n), lives in the New Found Apartment Complex about three blocks from her parents. Oh! Edgar and Martha (l/n), they work as security managers for the museum we were targeting." Shalnark excitedly exclaimed, waving his phone around in the air. "I'll send you the address, Uvo."

Feitan quirked an eyebrow. "She might know which hunters were hired to protect the exhibit."

Chrollo hummed once more, returning to his book with a calm expression. "That might be the case, if so then there we could be better prepared." The sultry voice of the boss explained further her use, not just for Uvogin but the entire team.

Uvogin cracked his knuckles, waving to Nobunaga and Pakunoda to follow. "Consider it done."

~~~

(Thats it everyone! Sadly Wattpad allows for larger chapters so this will be put into two parts to accomadate.)

[theeasternempress]

Little Shadow

Summary - Tech couldn’t help but notice how Omega has been silently watching him work for most of the morning. When he finally asks if she’d like to come help him, she gives him a bright smile that sends a warm feeling straight to his heart.

Word count - 3.3k

AO3

Tech started his morning as he always did: checking the ship to make sure everything was functioning properly. Nothing major jumped out at him, but there were always little things that had to be repaired. After years of fixing this ship, Tech prided himself on the skills he’d learned that would make an ordinary mechanic green with jealousy. 

Still, Tech would dedicate as much of today as possible to repairs of the ship and his inhibitor chip scanner. The cooling system wouldn’t take long to clean and fix since there were only three vents that ran throughout the ship, so Tech started on that. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this, so he knew he was in for a mess. He was used to keeping a careful schedule of repairs, but the end of the war and rise of the Empire had ruined that. 

Tech had barely gotten two screws off of the first vent when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Omega silently watching him work. He was used to the ever-inquisitive child watching him do his repairs and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it a little. 

Tech saw his younger self in her and remembered how he longed to have someone teach him how to do repairs and build things with his hands. He’d still managed to learn just fine on his own, but his younger self craved the bond that would have come from a teacher. 

Omega was whisked away a moment later by Hunter with the promise of breakfast, and Tech found himself missing the small girl’s presence. She’s only been on the ship for a few days, but Tech found that she was quickly becoming part of their team. Tech acknowledged that he was initially apprehensive about having a child on the ship but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Tech had just finished cleaning the exterior and interior vent when he noticed that his little shadow had returned. Omega was still watching silently, but Tech knew that a thousand questions were on the tip of her tongue. 

Finally deciding to be the teacher he always wished he could have, Tech turned to invite Omega over only for her to get scared by him catching her staring. She gasped and turned away from him as she began to walk away with her gaze down on the ground.

“Omega, if you’d like to come back, I have some things I could teach you,” Tech spoke, stopping the young girl in her tracks. 

“You’re … you’re not upset that I was watching you?” Omega asked with a nervous tone to her voice. 

Tech shook his head and replied, “Of course not. Why would I be upset with you for being curious? It is expected of someone your age.”

Omega quietly padded across the floor until she stood directly below Tech. He was about to move over to give her some space when she said, “Nala Se didn’t like my curiosity. She said that it would only get me into trouble.” 

Tech wasn’t sure how to reply to Omega's words. He’d figured that Nala Se was overprotective of Omega, but he hadn’t thought of how that would have affected Omega’s young mind. 

“While Nala Se is correct in that curiosity can sometimes lead to trouble, it can also lead to new discoveries. As long as you know when to stop and turn around for your safety, curiosity is welcome aboard this ship,” Tech stated. 

“Thanks, Tech, I like how I can be myself around you all,” Omega replied, her gaze moving from Tech to to the air vents he’d been working on. 

“Ah yes, let’s start working on this,” Tech began, “We first have to unscrew all four screws in each corner of the vent before carefully cleaning it of any dust. Then we’ll remove any dust inside of the vent before closing it back up. It should be a simple but repetitive task.” 

Omega eagerly exclaimed, “Okay, let’s get started!” 

All that was left to do on the first vent was to screw the vent back into the wall. Tech showed Omega the four screws and demonstrated how to use the screwdriver. She watched with wide, unblinking brown eyes as she eagerly took in all of the information Tech was giving her. It seemed like such a simple thing to him, but he could tell it meant the world to Omega. 

Almost immediately, Tech noticed a small problem: Omega was far too short to be able to reach the vents. Tech himself was tall enough that he only had to stretch a little bit to unscrew the vent from the wall, but Omega would never be able to reach it. From the sad look on her face, Tech could tell that she noticed as well. 

A brilliant idea popped in his head as he asked, “How about I screw in the first three screws, then I pick you up to let you do the final one? You can also hand me the screws as I need them.”

Omega’s eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face as she replied, “Okay!”

Tech gave a small smile in return and began fixing the vent back in place. He talked her through putting the screws in again, making sure she was watching him as he carefully lined everything up in its correct place. Even though she was just handing him screws for now, he could tell she was happy. 

Tech finished his three screws in less than a minute, finding that he was working faster than usual in order to give Omega her chance. 

He turned to her and spoke, “Alright, I’m going to pick you up now. Remember, use both hands and a good amount of pressure.”

Omega silently took the screwdriver from Tech’s outstretched hand and he picked her up under the arms, holding her eye level with the vent. 

Omega lined the final screw up with the vent and asked, “Is this good?”

“Yes, that should be fine,” was Tech’s reply. Omega had a bit of difficulty with getting the screw to go in straight but after a few careful pointers from Tech, the first vent was fixed. 

Tech set Omega back on the ground with an, “Excellent job, Omega. Let’s continue and see how your skills improve.”

Approaching the second vent, Tech asked, “Would you like to try removing these four screws on your own?”

Omega eagerly nodded her head and replied, “Yes, please!”

Again, Tech lifted the girl up so she would be able to work. Omega struggled with initially getting the screws loose, but she eventually managed to start getting screws off. As Omega finished getting the final screw off, the vent came crashing off of the wall and sent a cloud of dust up with it. 

Tech swung Omega around to try to avoid her inhaling a large amount of dust, but the coughing fit coming from the child in his arms indicated otherwise. He carried her a distance away and set her down on the ground.

“Are you alright, Omega? Tech asked, patting her on the back to help with her coughing. Her clothes and hair had clumps of dust in them, which Tech did his best to remove as Omega’s coughing fit died down. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry that the vent fell,” Omega replied with sadness in her voice. Tech had noticed that every time she made a mistake, she always became sad and overly apologetic about it. He had his theories as to why, but they were yet to be confirmed. 

“It was a simple mistake, Omega. I should have told you to grab onto the vent when you were almost finished. You can use your mistake to learn for the future,” Tech stated, hoping his words would help ease Omega. He knew that patience would be the best aid to her learning and hoped that she would want to continue. 

Omega stayed silent, looking down at the floor and refusing to meet Tech’s eyes. Tech could tell that she was ashamed and embarrassed from her small mishap, but he didn’t want that to ruin her learning. He could tell her as much as he wanted that it was okay to make mistakes, but that didn’t mean she would accept it. 

That’s when Tech remembered how a few days ago, he’d taken Omega for a walk near a lake and they came across an Arsinari dwarf frog. Omega had been instantly fascinated by the bright red creature, quickly declaring it her new favorite animal because it could live on land and in water. Tech had privately researched the animal and found several reports detailing the frog’s evolution. Maybe if Tech related how the Arsinari dwarf frog learned to evolve to Omega learning from her mistakes, it would put her at ease. 

Tech kneeled down in front of Omega and began, “Omega, I know that you're upset, but mistakes do happen. Do you remember when I took you to the lake a few days ago and we came across the Arsinari dwarf frog? It had to learn from its ancestor’s mistakes. They primarily live in the red clay surrounding the lake, so they needed to evolve to have their skin be the color of the clay in order to camouflage with their environment. You can be more like the Arsinari dwarf frog by learning from your mistakes.”   

“So I just have learn to catch the vent before it falls like how the Arsinari dwarf frog learned to evolve?” Omega asked, the sadness in her voice gone and replaced with her usual curiosity.

“Precisely, Omega. You’re a very fast learner,” Tech complimented. A smile spread across Omega’s face, and Tech knew his idea had been a success. 

Most of the dust that would’ve been removed from the vent came free when Omega dropped the covering, so Tech instead showed her how to clean it up and dump it in the trash bin. Tech knew that it wasn’t much, but the smile on Omega’s face told him that it meant so much more to her. Omega was hesitant to put the screws back in due to her earlier accident, so Tech finished the job. 

“Now, the final vent is in the cockpit,” Tech began, “It’s usually the hardest to clean, but you should be able to stand up on a chair to reach it. Are you ready to move on or do you want a minute to rest?”

“Let’s go, Tech! Can I try to do this one by myself? I promise to be careful!” Omega asked, bouncing in place with excitement. He gave her a nod and she squealed with joy, grabbing his hand and pulling him up to the cockpit. Echo and Hunter were there and gave the pair a confused look as they entered. 

Omega ran over to Hunter's chair and said, “Tech is teaching me how to take care of the vents, and it’s the most amazing thing ever!”

Hunter smiled at the girl and replied, “That sounds like fun, just make sure you’re careful.”

Tech smiled at his older brother’s protectiveness of Omega. Almost as soon as Hunter and Omega had met, they’d formed a bond that Tech had not yet observed from his brother. It didn’t take him long to realize that the role his brother had taken in the girl’s life was one of a father-figure. Of course everyone aboard the ship cared for her, but he’d adopted the main role of ensuring her health and safety.

In turn, Tech didn’t miss how Omega was almost instantly drawn to Hunter. She followed him everywhere, mimicked his movements, and did her best to listen to his instructions. For as adventurous of a child she was, Tech knew it was hard for her to be told to stay in one spot, but she did so if Hunter asked her to. 

Tech was broken from his thoughts by Omega tugging on his hand and dragging him under the air vent. She dropped his hand and stepped onto the chair directly under the vent with Tech’s screwdriver clutched tight in her hand.

Echo and Hunter’s expressions turned to shock at the sight in front of them and Hunter moved forward with his hands out to pluck the girl from the chair, but Tech was quick to cut in, “I have everything under control. She will not fall.”

Echo relaxed while Hunter stayed tense, his eyes never leaving Omega. 

“Okay Tech, I’m ready!” Omega exclaimed, “I’ll do a really good job, I promise. I’ll hand you the screws as I go.” 

Tech moved to stand to the side of Omega and lifted his hand out to allow her to drop the screws into his open hand. She had the same difficulty as before with getting the screws loose and Tech could see Hunter move forward to help, but Tech subtly waved him off with his other hand. 

Even though she still struggled a bit, Tech could tell she had improved since her previous turn. She hadn’t let the vent fall from its place in the wall and had used just the right amount of pressure to remove the screws. 

“Excellent job, Omega. Now, use the cleaning cloth to collect the dust like I taught you,” Tech told the girl. She nodded in reply, swiping the dust from the vent cover and removing all the dust she could from the interior. 

Tech kept a careful eye on her as she worked, jiggling the screws around in his hand to pass the time. He knew that there was nothing dangerous about this step, but Tech feared his oldest brother’s wrath if anything happened to Omega under his watch. Tech himself knew that he could never forgive himself if any bodily harm came to Omega while in his care. 

When Omega was finished removing all of the dust, Tech looked over it to ensure that it was properly cleaned before allowing her to put the screws back in. She did much better at replacing the screws than removing them, and Tech made a mental note to let her try that more in the future. 

Tech offered his hand to Omega, who grabbed it and let Tech help her out of the chair.

“How’d I do, Tech?” Omega asked, clearly hoping he would tell her that she did well.

“You did excellent, Omega. With more practice, I’m sure that your skills will vastly improve,” Tech responded.

Omega smiled brightly and ran over to Hunter to say, “Did you hear that, Hunter? Tech said I did excellent!”

Hunter smiled and ruffled her hair with a, “I sure did, kiddo.” 

Omega giggled and ran off, swiping her trooper doll off of the floor before disappearing out of the cockpit. 

While the repair and cleaning of the vents took longer than Tech originally intended due to the addition of Omega, Tech couldn’t find it in himself to care. If it were anyone else, Tech would have likely gotten annoyed at the extra time spent on such a mundane task but with Omega, he found that not a second of time was wasted with her at his side. 

He knew now that he was beginning to form a soft side for Omega. As nervous as he initially was about having a child on board, there was no denying that she fit in with their team. 

Watching Omega run off to grab her trooper doll and start playing with it, Tech realized just how few belongings Omega had and how everything that she owned she’d acquired on their travels. She made no complaint about it, but Tech knew that a child deserved better than that. 

Tech decided to make her a small toy of some kind, even though his knowledge of children’s toys was very limited. There was still plenty of time in the day, and his work on the inhibitor chip scanner could wait until tonight. 

He thought for a moment before a brilliant idea for a toy popped in his head. With Omega distracted by her trooper doll, Tech began building what he hoped would be the perfect gift. 

-

“Thank you for taking me with you on your walk, Hunter!” Omega said, the images of all of the beautiful wildlife she saw still dancing around in her head. Hunter had wanted to take a walk to clear his head and offered to take Omega with him. The sun had set hours ago, but she still enjoyed getting to see this planet’s nocturnal wildlife. She had searched for the Arsinari dwarf frog but to her disappointment, she couldn’t find it anywhere. 

“You’re welcome, Omega. Get yourself ready for bed now, alright?” Hunter responded, noticing how her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her awake. 

Before climbing up to her room, Omega made her nightly rounds to everyone on the ship to say good night. Wrecker ruffled her hair, Echo patted her on the head and wished her good dreams, and Tech gave her a soft smile. Omega thought it seemed like Tech was trying to hide something from her, but she dismissed the thought as she climbed up to her room. 

As Omega made her way up, she saw something small and red resting on top of her pillow. When she picked it up, she found that it was a little red frog with the numbers “99” painted on its back in addition to a crank on its side. Omega immediately recognized it as the Arsinari dwarf frog that she’d seen with Tech.

She laughed and practically launched herself downstairs, clutching her new toy in her hand. The four Bad Batchers were sitting together talking quietly, but all conversation stopped when Omega rushed in. 

She ran over to where Tech was sitting on a crate and threw her arms around him. She squeezed him tight and a moment later, he wrapped his spare arm around her. 

“Thank you for the frog, Tech! It’s perfect, it even looks like it’s a member of our squad!” Omega said happily, her words slightly mumbled against Tech. 

“You’re very welcome, Omega. Have you tried spinning the crank yet?” Tech asked. 

Omega shook her head and pulled away from Tech to see what he was talking about. Tech plucked the toy from her hand and spun the crank a few times before placing it on the ground. To Omega’s bewilderment, the toy frog began hopping around the ship as if it were real. It gave a few big jumps before coming to a stop at Wrecker’s feet, who was completely frozen in fear of breaking Omega’s new toy. 

She giggled and hugged Tech again, mumbling another thank you to him. 

She pulled away a moment later to plead to Hunter, “Hunter, can I please stay up a little late to play with my frog? I promise I’ll go right to sleep when I’m done!” 

Hunter sighed but smiled, “Alright, you can play for fifteen minutes.” 

Omega laughed as she kneeled on the floor and cranked the toy. Wrecker kneeled down a few feet away from her and the two played together, laughing as the little frog hopped between them. Echo leaned himself against the doorway and watched them with a soft smile on his face. 

Tech felt Hunter pat him on the back and whisper, “Good job, brother.”

Tech nodded to his brother, proud of his work. Maybe someday, Tech would be able to teach his little shadow how to make herself toys. For the time being, Tech enjoyed being able to make her smile with his own inventions. 

[kirishibi]

Kindred Spirits | Bubaigawara Jin (Twice)

My contribution to the BNHArem flowers collab!

Flower: White Chrysanthemum, meaning loyalty and devoted love 

Summary: you were born with a quirk that allows you to temporarily take other peoples’ emotions, though it makes it nearly impossible to create your own. every day, you sit out on city sidewalks hoping for people to let you borrow their unwanted emotions. Used to only feeling things like guilt, shame, and disappointment, you find yourself pleasantly surprised when a kind stranger comes along and donates happiness

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin (Twice)  x Reader

Warnings: No manga spoilers! jin smoking a cigarette, light cursing, pining, brief angst (hurt/comfort), sickeningly sweet fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

a/n: this is officially the longest single piece i’ve ever written and my back is feeling it. i’m so excited to have been able to participate in this collab, especially since I got to write one of my all time favorite characters! thank you so much @jojosmilktea​ for making the masterlist - you did a great job!

You sat against the brick wall of a quaint boutique in one of the busiest areas of the city, a frayed cardboard sign in your hands and rusted tin can beside your feet. The neat, permanent marker words on your sign read, ‘will take unwanted emotions for $’. 

Your practice wasn’t entirely legal since you didn’t have a license, but with villain activity rising rapidly in the area, you were the least of the local authorities’ worries. Your tin only held enough change for a protein bar from the corner store and your muscles ached, stiff from sitting in the same spot all day, yet you told yourself to wait a little longer. Maybe you’d get lucky. 

A bus rolled by, on its side an advertisement for some hero school at the edge of town, the tagline: ‘You, too, are destined for greatness!’ plastered in bold letters beside a photo of comically fake, smiling heroes. You couldn’t help but scoff as you watched the bus round a corner and disappear from sight, remembering the vain hope you held as a child seeing similar advertisements on T.V. Back then, you truly believed you would become a hero once you got your quirk - in fact, most kids your age did, excitedly awaiting the day they’d discover their unique “super power”. 

On your fourth birthday, your quirk came in and tore away any hope you had for the life of a hero. That day, you discovered that you could steal whatever emotion someone was feeling with the touch of your fingertips, taking it for yourself and leaving them without until your quirk wore off. The catch, however, was that it became incredibly difficult for you to feel any emotion without stealing it from someone else. 

Your quirk had a habit of activating involuntarily, so at a young age you began to wear gloves. It wasn’t long before rumors spread around your school that you were secretly a witch, or cursed, and you were bullied relentlessly from afar for the majority of your early life. 

The treatment only worsened as you grew to adulthood. 

In your world where heroes and super powers were commonplace, if your quirk was problematic or - god forbid - nonexistent, you were nothing but a stain on society, a weed in need of pulling. As a kid, you were reluctant to learn this fact, so life beat it into you. You learned a harsh reality very quickly - emotions became addicting once you were unable to feel them by yourself, and in desperate times, even the bad ones were better than nothing. Anything was better than nothing. Hardships hit you in waves until you had nowhere else to go, finding solace in a ramshackle apartment in the middle of the city, begging for unwanted feelings with a side of cash during the day, spending all night searching for a job on the web. 

Without a useful quirk, wealthy upbringing, or a desire to turn to villainy, this was your place in society. 

After around half an hour, you stood from your spot on the pavement with a disappointed huff, stretching your aching muscles for a moment before crouching to collect your things. “Excuse me!” A gruff voice called out from behind you, the words “Hey, bitch!” following closely after, without pause for you to respond. You thought you heard the person whisper a quiet ‘sorry’ before you whipped around, startled. 

You found a tall, blonde man standing at the edge of the sidewalk, his hands shoved in patched jean pockets and his broad shoulders hunched sheepishly, as if he wanted to occupy as little space as possible. The man shifted nervously while you looked him up and down. A large, vertical scar ran up the center of his forehead to just shy of his hairline, and dark blond stubble dotted his sharp jaw. The faint frown lines bordering his lips and creasing the space between his brows told you he’d likely endured a life similar to yours. Most people who spent their time on these streets had, and after a while the signs became easy to spot.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, raising a brow. “Can I help you?” You responded curtly. Living in such an unpredictable area had certainly not made you any kinder. 

“You have an emotion quirk, right?  I, uh, saw the sign. ‘was wondering if I could donate.” His gaze evaded yours even as he spoke, the man instead opting to watch as his frayed sneakers anxiously toed the ground.

You bent down, grabbing your change-filled tin from the sidewalk and jangling the coins within, wordlessly telling him your service wasn’t free. He stepped closer, huddling at the inner edge of the sidewalk with you, hugging the wall so as not to block the path of those trying to pass by. He pulled a crumpled two thousand yen bill from his pocket and handed it over with a timid smile. To any of the businessmen who walked by, the cash would have been no more than pocket change, but to you, it was a fortune. 

Your expression must have shown just how much his payment meant to you, as the man's smile grew wider, stretching to crease the corners of his eyes. He didn’t say anything, only watched as you stuffed the bill into your pocket for safekeeping, slipped off one of your tattered, cotton gloves and held out a bare palm. “Can I see your hand? It only works through touch.” As he slid a hand out of his pocket, you recited the same speech you gave to all of your customers: “Bring forth whichever emotion you’d like me to take from you - really make yourself feel it. I don’t get to choose what I take, so whatever’s at the forefront of your mind is what will be transferred. Effects can last anywhere between three to four hours. Oh, and no refunds. Any questions?”

He reached for your hand, but hesitated, his fingers hovering just shy of yours as he timidly asked. “Is any emotion okay, good or bad?”

You sighed, “Yeah, I don’t judge. Whatever it is, it’s better than nothing.” 

He nodded and laid a heavy, calloused palm atop your own. You braced yourself for what you had grown used to - feelings of disappointment, shame, anger, hopelessness; the most common feelings of the dejected businessmen who worked in the area and passed your spot regularly. 

As your quirk took effect, however, you didn’t experience any of those things. You felt the corners of your lips pulling into a grin entirely on their own, a joyous giggle bubbling in your throat and spilling from you before you could halt it. Your hands flew to your face, feeling your cheeks as they flushed pink from excitement. “Wh-what?” Was all you could manage in your surprised, giddy state. It had been months- no- years since you’d felt this way.

The man’s kind smile remained, though it no longer spread to his eyes. Like you, he seemed used to faking it. “I knew a kid with an emotion quirk growin’ up. He was a total loser. Uh- it made it harder for him to feel stuff on his own, so I wanted to...” He paused for a moment before timidly continuing, his next word hanging in his mouth as if unfamiliar to his lips “help. Just in case it was the same for you, ya ugly hoe.” With his joy depleted, embarrassment quickly took its place. The man’s teeth found his bottom lip as if to keep himself from saying more, and you thought you could see a faint blush spread along his cheekbones as he turned to leave. 

You were startled by the way his tone shifted so quickly, yet his actions had been kind. You couldn’t help but think, maybe his quirk knocked a few screws loose in his head, too. Much to your surprise, you found yourself wanting to talk to him more, or at least pay him back in some way, but the man had donated joy, not courage. 

“Thank you, sir!” was all you could manage as he made his way deeper into the city, the distance between you growing with each step. 

He waved in acknowledgement before pocketing his hand once again and turning off into a darkened alley.

---

For the first time in as long as you could remember, you awoke the next day feeling refreshed. You felt a slight bounce in your step as you made your way to your typical spot, treating yourself to a cold drink from the cafe along the way. Thanks to the kind stranger from the night before, you could finally afford a refreshing beverage to fend off the ever intensifying heat outside.

You didn’t quite know why, but the sun seemed to shine a little brighter as it rose along the horizon, the colors that sunrise painted across the skyline more vibrant than previous mornings. 

Your day went by fast, and soon enough dusk began to fall. The street lights surrounding you kicked on, signaling that it was once again time for you to pack up and return home. You stood, gathered your things, and turned to begin your journey back to your apartment when a vaguely familiar voice caught your attention, “Hey, wait up- get outta here!” 

It was him. 

You turned on your heel toward the sound of his voice, almost as surprised as when he showed up the night before. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, is that okay? Got a problem with me or somethin’?!” You watched him wince as the second set of words passed his lips. He gritted his teeth, shoulders tensing. Like before, he preferred to watch the ground between you rather than meet your gaze.

“It’s fine.” He glanced back up at the sound of your voice, and you flashed him a reassuring smile. The tension in his shoulders seemed to fade if only for a moment. “My regulars just tend to be angry white-collar businessmen, not, ya know...” You let your words trail off, unsure how to finish.

“Not people like you?” He filled in the blanks with ease, and you nodded in agreement. 

A comfortable silence spread between you for a moment before he cleared his throat, pulling another creased bill from his pocket. You realized your hands were too full to take the cash and moved to set your things down on the pavement, but the man reached out a tentative palm, “I can hold your sign for ya. I don’t wanna. I won’t take it. I will. I- I just don't want it gettin’ all dirtied up if it’s your only one.”

You hesitated, “You don’t have to be so nice. I’ve lived here long enough to handle myself.” 

“I believe you. Doubt it! But what kinda guy would I be if I didn’t try ta help out a sweet lady like you?”

His genuine kindness was entirely unexpected, but you saw no reason to be distrustful. After all, what use could he have for old, water damaged cardboard. You looked him over once more before handing him the already filthy sign and taking his payment with a newly emptied hand. You stuffed it in your pocket, slid off your glove, and held out an open palm like before. “Need me to debrief you again?”

“Yes, please!” His words betrayed him as he shook his head ‘no’. “I got it, thanks.”

Suddenly, you were grateful that you had figured out which of his voices to listen to, and which to ignore. He rested a large palm against your own. A second later, you felt sparks of joy ignite a fire within your chest. The blond’s touch suddenly felt pleasantly electric on your skin, and you allowed your hand to linger in his, reluctant to pull away. 

Glancing back up, you realized that he had been watching you. The tender warmth in his gaze never left as he slowly, hesitantly slipped his fingers from yours. He reached into his jeans’ back pocket, revealed a half empty pack of cigarettes, “Got time for a smoke?”

You began to refuse on instinct, but the words caught at the tip of your tongue. Again, you found that you didn’t want to part with him quite yet. Something about him caught your interest, generous donations aside. A finger tapped your chin as you pretended to ponder your decision, then shrugged, “Yeah, I think I’ve got some time.”

Shoulder to shoulder, you propped yourselves against the boutique’s wall. He offered a cigarette, to which you declined with a slight shake of your head. When you reached to take your sign back so that he could focus on lighting up, he simply swatted your hand away and tucked it under his arm. “Aye, let me be a gentleman. It’s mine!” 

Your chest felt fuzzy, heart fluttering. There was something beneath your good mood, something heavy and intoxicating that you’d never felt before, but you didn’t dislike it. Quite the opposite, in fact.  “You’re weird” you teased. 

“You’re weird” he responded without skipping a beat. There was another brief pause as he lit his cigarette, then spoke again “So, what’s your name, weirdo?”

You giggled, playfully jabbing an elbow to his side at the title, and he laughed with you. It had a deep, melodic timbre to it, hearty, disarming, and beautiful. You wondered how sweet the sound would be under normal circumstances, without your quirk draining him. “(Y/n). What’s yours?”

“None o’ ya business!” He rolled his eyes at himself, frustrated, then took a long drag from his cigarette. “Bubaigawara. You can call me Jin, though.”

“Jin Bubaigawara” You repeated his full name slowly, savoring the way it felt on your tongue, and grateful to finally be able to call him something other than ‘sir’.

“Sounds prettier coming from you, but yeah that’s it.”

At his words, warmth crept up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink, and tugging the edges of your lips into a shy smile. 

Jin felt different from the people you grew up with. He looked at you with eyes entirely void of judgement or distrust, and even if only for a moment, he made you feel like someone understood -- like someone cared.

Hours passed as you talked about everything, yet nothing in particular. The two of you took turns just chatting, occasionally asking questions back and forth. You told one another of how you discovered your quirks, shared stories from school, spoke of your families, or lack thereof. He didn’t explain the scar on his forehead, nor his split speech, but you didn’t think to ask, either. They were a part of him, made him who he was, and you realized that night that you really liked who he was.

---

For the most part, your days passed as they always did, with little business in the mornings and a few agitated corporate underlings stopping by around lunchtime to rid themselves of the bitter frustration their coworkers gave rise to. However, during your long periods of downtime, your thoughts began to wander. 

Typically, they wandered to Jin. 

Often, as you got bored, you found yourself scanning passing crowds for a tall blond with tired yet kind eyes, sighing disappointedly when you couldn’t find him. As much as your quirk numbed you to most things, you weren’t entirely immune to simpler feelings, like the soft pang of missing someone or the nervous quickening of your heartbeat when you finally spotted him at the end of the day. You couldn’t deny that your draw to him only grew with each nightly rendezvous and slowly, butterflies began to appear in your chest even long after the effects of your quirk had worn off. You found yourself counting the minutes until he came to see you at the end of the day, and feeling melancholy when you parted ways late in the evening.

You had never been able to feel something without taking it from someone else first, but bit by bit that began to change.

---

One night a little over a week after you first met, Jin was ten minutes late to meet you - concerning, considering how punctual he’d always been until then. 

When he did show up, he seemed agitated as he tried to make conversation, and the moment his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong. “Jin?” You questioned. Though he’d been slowly breaking the habit as you got to know one another, his gaze once again glued itself to the ground. He gnawed on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to avoid eye contact. You moved closer and bent down slightly, forcing yourself into his line of sight though he tried to evade. Only then did you notice he’d been biting his lip so hard it had swelled, threatening to bleed. “Jin, are you okay?” 

For the first time in your life, you felt genuine concern.

“Back off, bitch!” He clasped a hand over his mouth the moment the words flew past his lips, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I-” His voice broke as he repeated the words over and over again. “I can't help it. Yes I can. I don’t mean it. I’ll hurt you. Gah- damn it, shut the hell up, wontcha?!” He yelled at no one in particular. 

You took a cautious step back to give him space, though you had no intention of running. You knew how it felt to find yourself stuck in a losing battle against your own mind. No matter what he said, you weren’t about to leave. Not like everyone else had left both of you.

Without a second thought, you reached out, entwining gloved fingers with his and tugging him down the sidewalk. He followed without hesitation, clutching your hand so tightly you thought it may break. You pulled him into a narrow alleyway for privacy, and the moment no one else was around, he hurriedly reached into his pocket, fishing out a two-toned mask. “Shit, I- I’m splitting up! I’m fine! I’m splitting all up- I love it!” Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as his bloodshot eyes finally found yours. “I’m splitting, (Y/n), you don’t understand I’m sp-!”

You put two and two together fairly quickly and swiped the mask from his trembling grasp, roughly tugging the skin-tight material over his head and down onto most of his face. You rattled off a stream of apologies as you helped him unceremoniously slide it the rest of the way on, certain you were pulling tufts of hair along with the fabric.

The moment his mask was fully in place, Jin exhaled a sigh of relief and dropped to the ground. You pushed away the countless questions racking your brain, instead forcing yourself to focus on the man before you. You lowered to sit beside him and placed a gentle hand on his back. Your thumb lightly rubbed the space between his shoulder blades as you sat together on the damp asphalt, barely noticing as small droplets of old rain periodically dribbled onto your shoulders from an overhead windowsill. 

You didn’t have to wait long before he turned his attention back to you, shifting so you were face to face and cupping your cheeks with calloused palms. “You’re an angel! Marry me!” he excitedly exclaimed. You leaned into his touch despite the confusion clouding your thoughts, and suddenly you found yourself grateful your quirk only transmitted through your fingertips. 

You didn’t know exactly what you were feeling in that moment - worry, adoration, compassion, panic - the lines between them all blurred together in your head, but it didn’t matter. The feelings were there, and they were yours. 

Without a second thought, you threw your arms around Jin. He gladly reciprocated, nearly knocking you off balance as he wrapped you in a tight hug. “Sorry, that musta’ been real scary for ya, huh?”

You shook your head ‘no’ against his strong shoulder, “You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to scare me.” He chuckled weakly at your words, and you reluctantly pulled away to meet his gaze once more. “Are you okay? I mean-” you sighed, “that was a dumb question, but you know what I mean, right? Do you need anything? Water, juice?” 

“Juice! Stop stressin’! I’m fine now - when the mask is on, I become whole again! Good as new, see?” He flexed a bicep theatrically. The mask obscured his smile, but the slight squint at the bottoms of his eyes told you he was grinning from ear to ear. You nodded, letting out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in.

Hesitantly, you asked the next question on your mind: “Does that happen often?”

The man in front of you shrugged much too nonchalantly for the situation. “Most of the time I’m wearin’ the mask, so I don’t really gotta worry.”

Your brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen you in it before.”

“Duh, I always take it off to visit ya!” You cocked a brow questioningly, and he took the hint to elaborate further. “First time was an accident. You just caught my eye when I was on a walk without it, and I wanted to help ya out a bit ‘cause of that one guy from school.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re so pretty, though - especially when you’re happy - I just had to come back. But you’d already seen me without the mask, so I jus’ took it off when I went to see ya.”

Whether his intention or not, Jin’s words forced a smile onto your face. The butterflies in your chest buzzed to life as he locked his fingers with yours, squeezing happily when he saw the blush on your cheeks. “The mask wouldn’t have changed a thing about how you make me feel, dummy!” you confessed before you could talk yourself out of it. “You’re still you-.” 

Not willing to let go of your hand, Jin dragged it along with his as he raised an index finger to halt your statement. “Did ya just say ‘feel’? You’re feeling things now? An’ you didn’t tell me?!” 

“I didn’t want to interrupt what was going on with you!” You argued, giggles dampening your fake-serious tone.

“Silence, woman! That’s amazing!” He leapt to his feet, pulling you up with him and twirling you around in a circle. The happy tune of your combined laughter bounced off the brick alley walls, only serving to make you laugh harder before he halted you with an embrace. “Good job, you!”

“Good job, you!” You chimed back.

---

Your routine continued normally the next day. The street lamps flicked on at dark and, like clockwork, you spotted Jin in the distance. Unlike previous nights, though, this time he seemed to be carrying something. As he neared, crossing under the bright spotlight of a streetlight, you realized it was a flower - a white chrysanthemum, to be exact. You bounded toward him, meeting halfway down the sidewalk and practically tackling him in a delighted hug.

Jin’s free hand found yours as you separated, so that he could keep holding onto some part of you as you spoke. His other hand slipped the stem of the flower behind your ear, making sure it was secure before pulling away and taking in the view. “Ug-lee! You’re so pretty!”

You blew a playful kiss, “Thanks, to both. How did you know I love chrysanthemums?”

“I just hoped, ‘cause I love ‘em too. Do you know the meanin’ behind ‘em?”

You shook  your head ‘no’.

“Devoted love, apparently. I’m pretty damn devoted to lovin’ you!”

You knew Jin was about to nervously ramble, apologizing after his second statement, so you halted him with a finger to his lips. When he fell silent, you detangled your hand from his, much to his displeasure. Working slowly so that he could stop you at any point, you hooked your thumbs under the hem of his mask. His breath caught in his throat as you carefully tugged it up, just enough to expose his mouth. 

You found yourself grateful for the desolate streets that late evening provided as you stretched onto your toes and pressed your lips to his. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him as you deepened the kiss. After a few sweet moments, you pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “Good, because I’m pretty damn devoted to loving you, too.”