#I feel like the trade-off on getting that Rose on valentines day is that it drained all my Dave BruBot luck

[themagicalghost]

For some reason I haven't been able to beat Dave a single time since I got the rose. SOMETHING always eventually gets me to lose like random disconnections, or unfortunate circumstances that leads to me either getting saddened or having to wave the white flag. Where did all my luck go

[atlabeth]

a rose and her thorns | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader

summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.

a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3

You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.

Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 

“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 

You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 

Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 

“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 

“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 

He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 

“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 

You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 

It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 

“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 

“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 

“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 

“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 

“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 

“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 

You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 

“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 

“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 

“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 

You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 

“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 

You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  

“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”

“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 

“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 

“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 

Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 

“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 

You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 

“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 

“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 

“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 

Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 

“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 

Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 

“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 

“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 

“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 

“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”

You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 

“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 

“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 

A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 

It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 

“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 

You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 

“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 

“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 

“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 

“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 

Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 

Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 

“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 

“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 

He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 

You frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 

You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 

“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 

“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 

“Be my Valentine.” 

“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 

“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 

“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 

“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 

Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 

“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 

“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 

“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 

“Really?” he asked. 

“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 

“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 

“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 

You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 

Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 

You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 

“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 

“How’s your schedule?” 

“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 

Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 

“That depends what it is,” you said. 

“It’s a secret,” he said. 

You stared at him. “A secret?” 

He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 

You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”

“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 

You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 

“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 

“You read my mind,” you mused. 

“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 

“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 

-

Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 

You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 

(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 

Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 

“Nice touch.” 

Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 

“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 

He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 

“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 

“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 

“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 

“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 

“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 

“He takes that as a compliment?” 

“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 

“And he protects you?” she asked. 

You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 

“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 

You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 

“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 

You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 

“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 

Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 

Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 

You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 

He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 

“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 

Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 

“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 

“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 

Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 

“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 

“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 

“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 

He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 

You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 

“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 

“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 

His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 

“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 

Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 

He was surely blessed by your mother. 

“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 

“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 

“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 

“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 

“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 

“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 

“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 

“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — katsuki still hates valentine’s but he’d rather die than let you get wooed by some second rate hero.

࿄ ! warnings — none. very sweet & fluffy. suggestive if you squint. / note. part 2 to the valentine’s day drabble. my anti shindo yo agenda always comes through hehe.

when bakugou walked into his agency on the early morning of valentine’s day, he hadn’t expected to see a mop of black hair lingering around your office. your door was closed, which was uncharacteristic of you, and bakugou knew you didn’t start work today until at least 2 hours after he arrived.

“yo, what’s up, dynamight! long time no see. came here to drop some paperwork off but might as well drop a few other things while i’m here,” shouts the hero grand and bakugou thinks he’s unable to hold back a visual shiver of disgust. shindo is grazing around your desk and bakugou notices the huge bouquet of roses in a velvet box and a small pandora bag.

“what d’ya think you’re doing in y/n’s office, exactly? she doesn’t clock in ‘til 9,” bakugou says, prodding at shindo verbally. the black haired man laughs at bakugou’s accusatory tone and dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

“a little birdie told me that you hate valentine’s day, which i mean, to each your own, but what kind of man wouldn’t shower a beautiful woman with gifts on this wonderful day?” shindo practically sings and bakugou wants to punch him for even talking about you. as if you’d ever like him… right?

that would be silly, bakugou thinks. you’d have to be completely different from the girl he knew knows to ever indulge the likes of yo shindo.

“it’s a shame, really, you know, that you can’t get y/n anything. you know, cos you’re her boss and all. and she told me just how much you think it sucks. at least i’m here to save the day, right?” shindo bites and every word referencing you feels like a slap to bakugou’s face.

at this point, bakugou has had enough of the man, “think you’re forgetting you came to my agency unannounced so i suggest you just drop your shit and leave. next time, get your assistant to do your dirty work,” grumbles bakugou and shindo laughs all boisterous at the brimming anger in the blond’s tone.

“i’ll get out of your hair, dynamight. by the way, you don’t need to tell y/n to check out the gifts. i want it to be surprise, ya get me? thanks bro,” says shindo as he walks from your desk and attempts to pat down bakugou’s chest in ‘good fun’ but bakugou swerves the man and goes to your vacant desk to pick up his paperwork.

shindo chuckles breathily to himself and bakugou doesn’t grace him with a look until he hears the man’s steps fade away. bakugou finally exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and drops the paperwork down to scope out shindo’s gifts for you.

in bakugou’s opinion, they looked like shit. coloured roses in a box is extremely tacky and wouldn’t last even two weeks before rotting. bakugou attacks the pandora bag and opens it in a hurry to see a black ring box holding a silver, halo ring. bakugou scoffs at this: for a man who wanted so badly to prove himself as superior to him, shindo was sure blind to the tastes of a woman such as yourself. bakugou was pretty sure he’d never even see you wear a piece of silver jewellery and you once told him that halo rings were “tacky and so 2012.”

if shindo wanted to play this game, then bakugou would beat him so severely and it wouldn’t even be close. yeah, maybe you were right - maybe he did hate valentine’s day. but he’d enjoy the shitty day if it meant you’d want him over that idiot. and even though he despises fighting for someone’s affection, he hopes that maybe you’ll want him just as much as he wants you.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“morning, y/n! hope you had a good lie in,” chirps bakugou’s secretary gleefully and you smile at her.

“honestly, i needed this. even though i did wanna be here for the early valentine morning, i would not trade my extra sleep,” you laugh, “that reminds me: did you get anything for valentine’s?”

bakugou’s secretary giggles in delight as she stands up to show multiple bags filled to the brim with gifts and you gasp in a mixture of shock and envy.

“you know that gucci bag i wanted? he got me the bag! he really does get me,” sighs bakugou’s secretary and you have to hide a twitch in your eye as you clap your hands together and look among the bags of chocolate, flowers and cards.

“i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim and you hug when kirishima comes in earshot.

“happy valentine’s day, you guys! have anything planned, y/n?” kiri asks and you shrug, all non-committal.

“not much on the agenda for me, ‘m afraid. just gonna finish up a few assignments and swallow down the pain,” you say jokingly and both of your coworkers look at you sympathetically and you want to slap them for pitying you.

“valentine’s isn’t just about romance anyway! you’re loved by all of us,” says bakugou’s assistant and a part of you wants to argue with her for treating you like a petulant little girl.

“guys, ‘m fine, seriously! i’m just gonna head to my office and finish up some things. who knows how the day’ll turn out?” you say, with a slightly embittered tone and it sounds like you’re trying to kid not only the others but yourself too.

you wave the two goodbye and make way to head into your office. huh. that’s strange. you usually always keep your door unlocked after every shift just in case kirishima or bakugou wanted to sift through any missing paperwork.

“whatever,” you think, “maybe the cleaners locked up last night. let me just fish the keys out my bag.”

after grabbing your keys and making note of which one unlocks to your office (you remember half way through jingling your keys around that bakugou painted it orange and red), you open the door haphazardly; simultaneously trying to stuff your things back into your handbag and move in with one leg. when your bag is in good shape and your loose tissues aren’t falling out, you look up to your workspace and your eyes are so wide it’s almost comical.

a bouquet of baby’s breath, pink tulips and snapdragons sit in a bouquet of blue and white tissue paper and a gold looking chain looms the flowers together. there’s a little card situated amongst the flowers and you go to touch it when you see a box and a big, blue gift bag on your desk and chair.

you cover your mouth and gasp in attempt to hold back your shock and delight as you see the bag is labelled “Tiffany’s” and you pull out two velvet boxes: one for a gold necklace with a red heart detail and the other is a gold Tiffany heart ring.

holding almost all your gifts, you decide to take apart the box, sheathed in heart patterned wrapping paper and a box of your favourite pastries sits in them. at this point, you feel like you could cry. who was this person? why would they do all this?

at that moment, you stupidly remember the card in the bouquet and pull it to see scrawny handwriting:

“dear y/n,

happy valentine’s day. hope this will do for all the work you do for me.

love, katsuki,”

you smile and only then do the tears start brimming as you hug the bouquet close to your chest.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

when bakugou heads back from patrol, the office is rumbling with gifts and chatter. he rolls his eyes at this but he entertains the lovesick behaviour of his employees anyway - he even let denki paint his pinky nails pink to “embrace the loving spirit” as denki would put it.

“bakugou! here, come quick!” yells kirishima as he beckons his blond friend over to him by the front of his office.

“what d’ya want now? can’t you lot just celebrate this day without bothering me? ‘already let that idiot paint stupid hearts on my nails,” grumbles bakugou and kirishima shushes him.

“it’s not about that, but you didn’t have to paint your nails - ok, sorry, wait-” kirishima grabs bakugou back and practically whispers (though not discreetly by kirishima fashion), “did you see what y/n got in her office? someone just bought her a shit ton of things!” exclaims the red-head and bakugou shrugs nonchalantly.

“good for y/n. why you telling me this?” bakugou asks suspiciously and kirishima beckons him over with another wave of his hand to whisper again.

“apparently it was shindo yo who got her all that fancy stuff. who would’ve thought, right?”

bakugou’s eyes bulge out his head and his face almost turns as red as kirishima’s hair.

“what?! i mean - ‘s not like i care but where’s y/n right now?” interrogates bakugou and kirishima smiles knowingly but stops to prevent bakugou from being suspicious.

“luckily for you, she’s in her office! you should definitely go to her right now,” kirishima says, pushing his friend towards the office door and nodding at him.

bakugou takes a deep breath before knocking and opening the door, not waiting for your reply. he slams the door in kirishima’s face - you know, as insurance against his prying eyes.

“hey, y/n?” says bakugou slowly and you’re typing away at your desk. the box of pastries he bought you sat next you and were half eaten and the flowers he bought you sat prettily in a vase on the edge of your desk.

as soon as you hear bakugou’s voice, you look up and basically run over to him to throw your arms around his neck. albeit, it’s slightly difficult due to his neck piece but you make due and hug him anyway. bakugou is stiff when he feels you press into him and you pull back to see his somewhat confused expression and you move back at his lack of reciprocation.

“sorry for that - it’s just, thank you for the gifts. i loved them, really. everything was beautiful, especially the necklace,” you say, pulling the necklace out of your white collared shirt.

bakugou narrows his eyes, “you know i got these for you?”

“yeah?” you say and it’s your turn to be confused, “unless there’s another bakugou who put his name on the card and the receipts-”

the cogs turn in bakugou’s head and curses at kirishima in his head, “‘m gonna kill shitty-hair one of these days,” bakugou sighs and you raise a brow.

“why would you do that?” you ask and bakugou shakes his head.

“doesn’t matter. and you’re welcome, by the way. it’s what you deserve,” bakugou curtly nods and you smile so prettily at him and he wants to kiss you so bad. he regrets not hugging you back just now and he’s not sure how to initiate it again.

“you really shouldn’t have spent so much on me, really!”

“tsk, there’s a lot more i wanted to get you, princess,” and it slips out before bakugou could stop it from coming out of his mouth. he’s about to apologise until he sees you look at him with stars in your eyes and your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth.

“oh yeah, like what? what does a ‘princess’ like me deserve?” you entertain him and you test the waters by walking closer to him and bakugou groans and swipes a hand across his face in embarrassment and to prevent you from seeing his face from getting redder and redder.

“i would’ve gotten you the world and it still couldn’t be enough for someone like you,” he breathes out and bakugou closes the gap between you, your chin up to his chest.

“i don’t think i know what i’ve done to deserve this praise,” you whisper and you rest your hands on the planes of his widely built chest and he tenses but quickly relaxes so as to not ruin all the momentum built up at this moment.

“you deal with all my shit even though you don’t ‘ave to,” mumbles bakugou and his hand lifts at your jaw slightly so you’re only a breath away from his cupid’s bow.

“you’re right that i don’t have to. but i like dealing with all your shit. means you trust me,” you say in a hushed tone and both your bated breaths are mingling on each other’s lips.

“trust you more than anything. d’ya trust me?” bakugou asks and you nod at him, wide eyed.

however, this doesn’t satisfy the man and his thumb grazes your jaw and you sigh.

“wanna hear you say it,” bakugou contends.

“trust you with my life, katsuki,” you murmur and bakugou leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

his hand sits on your chin and your hands pull at his black shirt when you feel him nip at your bottom lip and suck your tongue. the kiss is way too passionate for the workplace and you can feel yourself go numb in the legs.

it’s like bakugou has a sixth sense because he swoops in to sit his large hands to your waist and you to softly pet at his face and his neck. it’s akin to a competition of who can feel the most of each other without bordering on inappropriate but you both can’t get enough. it’s only when you’re out of breath do you pull back and bakugou blinks at you, all dumbstruck like a teenage boy. you giggle a little at him and bakugou playfully pinches at the fat of your hips while you yelp.

“whatchu laughin’ at me for?” he grunts and you pull at his cheek in return.

“it’s nothing, it’s just - this whole time, i thought you hated valentine’s day. what gives?” you inquire and the man ponders a little - though he knew you both knew the answer.

bakugou knocks his head on yours and you pout and he chuckles at you, “‘s like shitty-hair said. didn’t know the right person was always in fron’ of me.”

you ‘boop’ at his nose and bakugou’s face visibly scrunches, “you thought wrong. still, thank you for putting up with my… things. even though you can say you like the decorations, i can see right through you,” you say, matter of fact and bakugou groans.

“yeah, yeah, you got me there. i hate all that extra shit. but if it makes you happy, then i’ll hate it in privacy.”

you smile warmly and pull him down to give him a few more kisses. best valentine’s day ever.

BONUS:

“and by the way, kiri told me that shindo came over by the office today but i wasn’t in. did he need something important?” you ask the blond over lunch in his office and bakugou shakes his head.

“fuck if i know, princess. dunno why he was in there but it was just some paperwork and i dealt with it for you,” mentions bakugou offhandedly and you ‘aww’ at him before kissing his cheek and feeding him some of your onigiri.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“are you sure this is the right place? kacchan gave us strict instructions to discard of this discreetly,” asks deku and todoroki nods.

“yeah, this is the exact coordinates… now that i’m looking at it, what kind of uncultured idiot would buy roses in a box? they go stale after a week,” chastises todoroki and deku taps his foot in agreement.

“well, let’s do it in three, okay?”

an explosion goes off in the distance and you look at bakugou confused and then disappointed.

“you’d think villains would take a day off even on valentine’s day!” you lecture, mouth full and bakugou makes a noise of consensus and pokes at your food-filled cheek with one hand and texts a thumbs up to deku and todoroki with the other.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[roamingtigress]

Desire

Hosea and Dutch, who have been inseparable for over thirty years, are now old men. Though their love has remained the same, their bodies have changed over the years, changes that have left them feeling a bit self-conscious and vulnerable.

One Valentine's Day though changes their perspective, and they both learn to embrace the beauty of aging. (It's safe for work just a bit lengthy! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Even if you just want to call me a nerd.)

It's Valentine's Day, a day we forego going on trade runs and bounty hunts, to make it a day just for ourselves and, well, what one often does on Valentine's Day.

Our Valentine's Days are also never without the theme of trying to outdo each other. If Dutch gets me orchids and chocolates that are just the right size to hand-feed to me, I'll set up a bathtub littered with rose petals with classic music being played in the background. You can call us sappy if you'd like; we've been called worse.

"This will be the year I will outdo you, Hosea!"

I roll my eyes inwardly, scoffing. Truth be told, there is, of course, no real winner in this competition; we both benefit when we try to out-spoil each other. Eventually, we both end up being naked at some point in the day, sometimes throughout the whole day. If you can guess it was Dutch who started it all, you'd be right. He wanted to make our Valentine's Day more romantic than anyone else's and wanted to see how far we'd take it. It's one of the plans he has put together that hasn't turned into a disaster, for the most part. There was that one disastrous breakfast in bed which he burned, but he meant well.

I roll aside and sit up in bed, playfully tapping him on his nose. "Game on, Dutch, game on."

Dutch just giggles, the winter sun reflecting beautifully on his features. They also expose the scars he's gained over the years from misadventures, some of which he exaggerates; the one on his chin was from when he dared to shave himself in the dark. Mistake. I've seen his hair in better shape; the messiness of it adds to his decidedly playful demeanor this morning. He pokes my nose back.

"It'll be hard to beat last year."

Yes, last year. We stowed away on a classy passenger ship, that lovely Grand Korrigan. I had intentions to buy tickets but they were sold out, so we did what we did, with the added thrill of the idea of being caught being a stowaway. We managed to stay off the radar, up until . . .

"We emptied everyone's wallets in poker, and we ran out on the deck . . ."

As Dutch chuckles, there is as much laughter in his eyes as there is in his voice. "We had that mob of stuffed shirts chase us back inside, down the hall towards our room --"

"And I was so turned on by the way you handled the table, that you had to relieve me. I couldn't make it to the room and well, it was getting awkward trying to run with an erection." I let my finger drag along the side of his cheek as I lay back down beside him.

"Stroking me off in the hallway, while we kissed . . ."

Dutch's eyes take on a mischievous glint. "And we got caught."

"We did!"

The fellows we played with weren't so disgusted at us for doing what we were doing (I suspected a few were queer; one just gets a vibe from another) but rather that we parted with their money and they finally caught the miscreants who robbed them. There was that one comment about 'I knew you two were's queer before you two even sat at the table together.' I threw them an empty wallet that I had often carried around with me to throw off someone's game (fancy wording for scamming) and dragged Dutch down the hallway and into our room.

I lean over, kiss him softly on his lips, and slowly pull away just to make soft eye contact. Perhaps it wasn't a traditionally, conventionally romantic moment; there was the thrill of being caught and sure enough, it happened. For us, it was thrillingly romantic; our hearts pounded when we heard those footsteps rushing towards us and before we could pull away (not that we wanted to), they caught it.

"Oh, it was so much fun."

Dutch's hand softly cups the side of my face, as he looks into my eyes. "Unbelievably so."

Dutch later got a fancy bath prepared for us, complete with champagne and rose petals. Securing that arrangement was interesting. I stole a man's identity when we were playing poker, and the fellow who was smooth-talked into arranging the bath assumed the fancy lady who accompanied the stolen man's identity was going to join Dutch; ironically some raven-haired dutchess from Europe. It would come as no surprise if I told you we made love in that tub; not merely sex, but making love. When Dutch puts his weird little mind to it, he is something. We both deserved a little reward for that collaboration.

"Got any plans, Dutch?" I had to ask.

Dutch looks like he's in thought as if he hadn't planned for weeks. I know better and he knows that I know better. "I might have a few . . ." He muses. "But they're for me to know and for you to find out!"

"You little shit!"

My husband, finding amusement at my expense once more, I have a way of bringing it out in him. He pulls me up on top of him as if I were a blanket, in such a position that I would be facing him; I can't complain. His body is so warm that it felt like I was pulled up over a hot water bottle.

"I thought I'd surprise you, 'sea."

I couldn't help but notice that when he pulled me up on top of him, his pyjamas (surprisingly with mangos and books and cigars printed on them) had shifted in such a way that revealed a nipple; it stared up at me. What a tease.

"With a nipple reveal, Dutch? What a slut."

I lean in and kiss it, I just had to. He squeaks.

"T-they might make an appearance."

I smile a mischievous smile. "Well, I would hope so. It's Valentine's Day! So what if Hosea Fucks Friday was the other day. If we don't take our clothes off at some point of the day, then it's just another day."

I close my eyes as I feel a big hand slip underneath my pyjama shirt, finding its way to my back. He rubs in a smooth massage, his fingers gracefully working their magic. "Patience, Mr. Matthews. I have a plan!"

Of course he does.

If that plan involves him massaging me all day, I'll take it. I arch my back, encouraging him. Sure enough, he gets the hint and works in a firmer caress and I let out a long sigh; the combination of the warm body against mine, his touch, his heart and my heart beating against each other.

"You're off to a good start . . . " I murmur, my eyes closing.

Dutch of course, almost; in that childish sort of way he does over every little thing he does that goes without a hitch. "Had to start somewhere." There's a spark to his eyes. "You know how it goes with us, once one touches another . . ."

"Of course . . . " I murmur, framing his jaw in my hands. "Both of us are just so . . . Easy."

I study his face for a long time, taking in the contours of his cheekbones and how the light played on them. There are scars scattered across his cheek and chin; the one you might see most noticeably is from a shaving challenge if you will. He thought he could shave just as well in the dark as in the daytime, I dared him to do it, and well, he did, and removed a little piece of chin. He tells everyone it was from a grazed bullet. I then feel his face studying mine. He had a sort of dreamy look to his face, almost . . . Almost like when we first met. We 'looked into each other's eyes and saw something', and it would seem he's seeing something. He's eyeing me like a beautiful painting, a statue, a prize-winning stallion.

We've been together for over thirty years. Things have changed over those decades. We both have wrinkles and curves in places that didn't have them before. Certain things are sagging a bit. We both have a bit of a paunch, one of us more than the other and by 'other' I'm not referring to myself.

"My days of looking good are long over, Dutch."

"Nonsense!" Dutch scoffed, giving my nose a gentle tweak. "And as part of my plan, I'll show you!"

Now I've heard him say 'I have a plan many a time and for the most part, nothing of note comes of it (minus those plans that go awry and end up in absolute chaos) . . . But, I was curious, given what day it is.

Dutch carefully rolls me off of him and heads to our bookcase which is a glorified small library. I watch curiously as he meanders over to the bookcase. His once rolling strut now takes on a bit of a shuffle, the limp that he's had since his forties has gotten more obvious. The life that we led had caught up to us both. I shake my head as I note his pyjama pants have hiked down a bit, I see the crack of his ass; that ass isn't as supple as you can say these days but still something to grab. I have to reassure him that he looks as handsome as ever, as he doesn't think so. Words aren't always enough; I have to show him, touch him in those special spots he feels vulnerable about, and make him feel beautiful. Likewise, Dutch still thinks I'm as handsome as ever. I'm a weathered old man of seventy-five, but . .. He has his way of bringing me around. He's a man who can master words, and know how to say the right things even if if I'm not feeling the words he's describing. Some say that's mere manipulation, but speaking of someone who has such an intimately deep connection, I can tell you it's the intimacy of the soulmate.

I watch curiously as he picks up a long green-covered book, of medium thickness and then a stick of graphite from a box on the bookshelf and slides on his thick black-framed glasses; I raise an eyebrow. It then occurs to me . . .

Did this man creep into my head, and rob me of my plan? Now I taught him a few things but I don't think I've taught him *that* well. I want to tell him that I have the same idea where I'd be drawing, but . . . No. I'll surprise him.

"Oh, I'm sure there are prettier things that you can draw. Like what's outside the window, that Heartlands landscape—"

Dutch lets out a deep belly laugh as he sits down, clapping my knee as he perches on the edge of the bed, facing me. "Am I married to the landscape?"

I retort; he opened the door for it. "Sometimes I think life would be easier If I was married to the Heartland Overflow! With all the frogs and the muskrats . . . "

"Destined to live with pests then, huh?"

That idiot just laughs again knowing it was my turn to walk into it, hugging that book to him as I give him a halfhearted kick. He then studies me for a long moment, his eyes twinkling as he just looks over at me. I can't deny he's being adorable; I can't get seriously annoyed. Yes, he's still frustratingly charming and uses it at every opportunity to get his way. Very frustrating.

"How do you want me posed?" I ask, remembering the last time we've drawn each other . . . Oh, it's been years.

We were both young and took up (illegal) residence in a shoreside house on Iron Lake. It belonged to an artist who was at the time, away in Paris and as something to do to pass the time when it was raining, we took time drawing one another. We were fitter then, with fewer wrinkles in some places, fresher faced. The drawings are still framed over our bed. That house went from being owned by an artist to a fisherman and now it's abandoned when he packed up his fishing gear and took up residence that was owned by some fellow named Hamish. Maybe one day, we'll get our boys to fix it up for a little family retreat.

I watch Dutch's face take on a pondering expression, his eyes softly scanning my form, mentally taking note of every detail. I find myself doing the same with him; there's love in those eyes, a certain twinkle to go with it that tells me this is a fun little activity borne out of love. I could tell him that there are more attractive, younger models out there he could use. I'm sure some art school out Saint Denis could provide them, but he'd argue that there'd be no one else that he'd want to draw.

"Natural, with that faraway look I often catch you in. Y'know, the look I catch you when you're reading and tryin' to ignore me."

I laugh but sit up in bed, keeping one knee up and bracing myself with my left arm, while the other casually drapes down.

"A little overdressed there, Mr. Matthews?" Dutch warmly teases; that twinkle in his eyes, that playful but loving tone in his voice... I suppose he loves me. "I... I want to show how handsome you are still."

I sigh. There's no fighting with him over this; he'll think I'm gorgeous if I'm wearing a paper bag. With some feigned reluctance, I shed off my pyjamas, putting on a little show for him because I do like that stupid smile and making him a little thirsty somehow, before placing them on the bedside dresser.

As Dutch makes himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, I reposition and take on that look he so desires. He's got that mustache twisted up into a smile as he starts. He's posing rather artistically himself; he's got his ass sinking into the corner of the mattress, one ankle and foot tucked up behind his knee which belongs to a leg he lets lazily dangle off the mattress. His head is tilted in that way when he's about to cause a stir with me, complete with that damn spark in his eye. He's got that damn pyjama top unbuttoned to his navel and has a nipple staring out at me. I'm not sure if this 'wardrobe malfunction' (as you kids call it) is intentional or accidental, but knowing him so intimately I'm going with the latter. It drives me nuts when he dresses like that, I can't keep my eyes off him, I can't keep my hands off of him, and he knows it; what an old tart.

As Dutch makes himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, I reposition and adopt the look he desires. He's got that mustache twisted up into a smile as he starts posing rather artistically; his ass sinking into the corner of the mattress, one ankle and foot tucked up behind his knee, lazily dangling off the mattress. His head is tilted in that way when he's about to cause a stir with me, complete with that damn spark in his eye. He's got that damn pyjama top unbuttoned to his navel, and a nipple is staring out at me. I'm not sure if this 'wardrobe malfunction' (as you kids call it) is intentional or accidental, but knowing him so intimately, I'm going with the latter. It drives me nuts when he dresses like that; I can't keep my eyes off him, I can't keep my hands off of him, and he knows it; what an old tart.

I decide to poke him in his belly with a toe, making him squeak; he's still stupidly ticklish. "Dutch, you're distracting me."

Dutch's silly smile turns into a grin. He felt my eyes on him; I was egging him on. "Pretend I'm being an annoying shit when you're reading, and you're trying to engross yourself in your fictional fantasy."

I scoff, somehow managing to retain my expression and pose. I scoldingly point and shake my finger at him, and that grin just widens, with a chuckle. "When aren't you being an annoying shit? And when I do engross myself in my fictional fantasies, you decide it's time to get needy and crawl into my lap for your hair to be played with and your belly to be rubbed." Admittedly, I inadvertently encourage that because I can't resist; once he brings out the puppy eyes act, I can't resist.

"Point taken!" Dutch's voice is boisterous at my rebuttal; he rolls with my punches and brings out another zinger at me as he points the graphite stick at me.

"Now who's distracting who? With you thinkin' about touching me and all."

I roll my eyes and shake my head at that sass, which he accentuates with a squirm of his ass. "Dutch . . ." I could go on with this back-and-forth banter all day; I enjoy it more than I let on. A big part of me wants to keep poking the bear, to see what he comes up with next, and to surprise him with what I'm capable of. But . . . I am curious to see this masterpiece he's working on, and I'd like to see it before I head off to the afterlife.

Dutch starts at his work slowly, his hand moving at a slow, fluid pace for the most part, intermittently peppered with rapid flicks of his wrist.

"This isn't one of those caricature pieces, is it?" I ask curiously, maybe with some caution; we have such a piece above our dresser; some silly Frenchman did it for us when we made a trip to, ugh, Saint Denis when I visited family and Dutch insisted on tagging along. It's a cute style, a cute piece, but I'd rather some of my features not be exaggerated if he's drawing me in the nude.

"Real-life study, Old Girl!" Dutch beamed, creases forming in the corners of his eyes; he's frustratingly adorable when he's enthusiastic about something to the point where the crow's feet arrive to roost.

I feel like disappearing into the bedsheets as I sense a wave of vulnerability washing over me. It's not often I feel vulnerable. He means well; the love is evident in his eyes, though; I can't bring myself to say no to this thing.

"You . . . You don't have to draw every detail."

Dutch frowns, tipping his head in that way when he's puzzled by something, not dissimilar to a dog puzzled by some strange sound that it doesn't know what it is. Occasionally, he'll do that in an argument, as if not understanding why I'm upset with him.

"I find every detail of you to be beautiful, 'sea."

"Every bit?" I ask, tilting my head as well.

As a spouse with over twenty years of experience, it's natural to find at least one part of your partner's body to be, well, not beautiful. For Dutch, it's that damn ugly right toe of his, crooked and bigger than the other, and yet it's the one that he likes to poke me with.

Dutch gently insisted, his face taking on a sort of dreamy expression. "Every bit. And I love to kiss every bit of your body --"

I gently but firmly interrupt; if I don't, there goes his plan, and it'd be another on the pile of failed plans. How do I know this? Because that silly man has a hard time keeping his hands off of me (and I admit the feeling is mutual for as much of a pain in the ass he is and how much it just encourages him), or his lips off my body, and this drawing will never get done! Maybe if he doesn't interrupt me again, he can get what he wants. It is lovely having him kiss over my body, and they can be the softest, sweetest little kisses. He's a bit slower at them these days, as if memorizing every inch of my body.

"Dutch, you're distracting me."

Dutch snickers, outright snickers, and returns to work once I roll my eyes and regain my composure, repositioning myself.

"Cheekbones . . . " Dutch whispers, half to himself; it was one of those cases where he thinks his thoughts are still inside his head but he lets them spill out. "Still beautiful, defined cheekbones . . . "

I have a tiny smile threatening to grow. My cheekbones are one feature of me that I'm still rather fond of. My face has sunken with age, as Dutch's has; his cheekbones are more prominent than when I first met him. I often catch him running a thumb over mine as he looks into my eyes. Sometimes before a kiss, sometimes as he's telling me how much he loves me or something equally sappy. He likes to kiss them in the morning, trying to butter me up after he stirs me awake because, with certainty, I can say that he's the thing that stirs me awake, and I'm not a morning person.

"Eyes that look into my soul . . . "

Now he's getting a bit sappy. I've heard him describe my eyes as having a lot of soul and, at times, a certain weariness to them (I can't imagine why). I manage that faraway look, though my focus isn't entirely so far away, but at the man drawing me and beyond.

"I'm so attractive you can't keep your eyes on me." Dutch teases, snickering again when I scoff. He is indeed a lovely specimen to look at but at this moment, he's more silly than sexy, but I'll let an old manchild dream that he's still a Roman sculpture of a man.

"I'm looking behind you." I'm trying to focus on the painting of our dearly departed Labrador, Matilda -- who was buried between Silver Charm and The Count -- emphasis on trying, as he's 'caught' me.

My dear husband is onto me, scoffing away. "Sure, sure . . . "

Dutch studies me for a long time, just smiling, looking at me the way a schoolboy looks at his crush, and I let out an exasperated sigh when he itches at his chest. It looked a little planned, to tease me, to show a little skin, which isn't as taut as it used to be; I might have caught a bit of a jiggle on that tit. But he's still gorgeous to me, jiggly bits and all. "Hey, when you got an itch, you scratch it!" Dutch tsk tsks as he catches me glancing at him for half a second.

"Slut!" I retort.

The idiot just grins like the Cheshire Cat; he knows that I know that was an attempt to flirt. Love. He's in love. I've had fleeting moments where I think life without him would be easier but they're fleeting when I think how much life would be. . . Well, duller, without him. He does provide unexpected moments of amusement like this, he's a warm body to snuggle up to at night and a damn good kisser. In my prime, I could have found someone better in bed (he's a bottom through and through and a bratty sub at that), but, well, I suppose I'm in love, too. I take on that faraway look, just 'thinking.'

"You know, I've always loved your nose. Perfectly kissable!" Dutch will be narrating this whole thing, just wait; he doesn't have to give progress reports but he feels it's his duty.

"You think every part of my body is kissable."

I'm convinced that the smile on Dutch's face will freeze on his face permanently. "Oh, I do . . . " He plans on kissing every inch of my body when we're done with this thing, I just know it. And I plan on doing the same for him.

All banter aside, as I put on my 'faraway stare', I feel exposed, but at the same time . . . Desired. Now and then we put each other in such a position where we will feel vulnerable; some may say it's 'toxic' but it's one of our ways of showing the trust we have in each other, a sort of gentle surrender in our dynamics; normally I'm the head of the household here but once in a while I'll let him take the reins and see what he does with them before taking hold of them, where I'll remind him. I would never shed my clothes in the name of art for anyone other than this man. In his younger years, Dutch would have jumped at the chance to be drawn in the nude, but with the contours he's gained over the years and knowing how self-conscious he can be of them, it's likely he too would only do this for me.

I can't help but be drawn by the elegance of his hand movements, even the movements he's making for what I'm assuming is shading; those are more deliberate. "Right after your hands, my favourite part of you is your chest. It's a safe for your heart and there's no force on earth or beyond that can bust it open."

The damn fool thinks I'm invincible. I know it's a lie he tells himself that he believes and tells me and tells others, as I know losing me is one of his greatest fears. It's a lie he uses to comfort himself and I won't take it away from him. Deep down, with my decade age gap, I fear I may go first, and one of my fears is leaving him behind. Dutch is much more fragile than he lets on. He won't do well without me. Not one bit.

But enough of the depressing talk.

Going from the circular motions of his hand, I can tell he's drawing my nipples, a part of my body that I don't think much of. That is until my mustached companion here decides to play with them and then I'm convinced they're hooked up with electricity with all its nerves. We both alike used to be firmer on that region on the map, like everything else but, we'll live with what we have.

"Do you know why men have nipples for, 'sea?"

Ahah! I knew it.

I think for a moment, though. I could think of some smartass response, but then I decided to show I know as much as he does. "They're leftover from when us fellows are developing in the womb if my memory serves me." I vaguely remember those details; it's been a bit since I've looked up the medical books. The last time I read one was when Dutch got a boil on the inside of one of his ass cheeks a few years ago and I wanted to get it properly drained; pardon me, that was too much information. I'm sure nobody wanted to know about an old man's bottom.

Dutch decides to be the smartass.

"Well, that's the boring answer."

"I was going for the scientific explanation."

"You can call it what you want," Dutch insisted with a smirk. "Medical professionals say they serve no purpose as we develop, but I disagree. These medical 'professionals' as they call themselves, must have less of a sex life than us old wrinklies."

I scoff. No doubt some of those experts are 'old wrinklies themselves, not much younger than us, but . . . "You can call yourself an old wrinkly. I prefer to use the term 'senior citizen.'"

Dutch can't help himself. "With citizenship, comes governance!"

Yes, he's still a rebel. He has trouble now and then getting up on his horse, an Irish Cob gelding named Blagdon, but he still thinks he's a revolutionary. I'll let him dream on.

Dutch is putting details into the collarbone; I can just tell from the expression alone; a soft, reflective expression as his eyes fall on my chest. Though the connection was there right at the beginning -- we looked into each other's eyes and saw something -- Dutch was, possibly to your surprise, socially charming at the start of our dating -- he could charm the socks off of you -- but awkward when it came to the art of seduction; maybe he was shy. I was his first experience with another man and I thought at the time he was a bit intimidated; my age gap didn't help, I thought. I was gentle, I was patient, and we took that part slowly. He loved to linger on my chest; he still does. He peppers a series of kisses along my collarbone before working his way downwards. It feels wonderful, and I can even remember the first time he did it; I ran my hands through his hair, giving the softest of kisses, and the lightest of nibbles as if he was eating corn on the cob.

"Such an underrated part of the body . . . " I think out loud, amazed at myself for remembering those little memories. "And yet you give it so much love . . ."

There's a warm twinkle in Dutch's eyes. "First place I kissed south of your lips. Every part of the body needs a bit of attention; everything is connected."

He works on my arms and shoulders next; those admittedly are still decently toned, as are his. We often don't think about how often we use them in our day-to-day lives. Even at my age of seventy-five and him at sixty-five, we still dance with our arms around each other, we enwrap each other around with them at nighttime. We often get nightmares; I suppose with the lifestyle we led before retiring, it comes naturally, so those embraces at night can get tight. Often, we wake up with crescent marks on our skin from our nails, and our ribs feeling bruised, and we don't even realize that we've been clinging to each other so hard. We use them to embrace each other during our lovemaking; we don't leave dents in the wall much anymore, but us 'old wrinklies' as Dutch refers to us as, do have sex. It's a little slower now, but still so good, even better as we've become so at one with each other's bodies.

Pardon me.

Attached to arms, of course, are hands, which his focus floats on next. I've mentioned before in another story that they're Dutch's favourite part of me, tied with my heart. Well, as an update, Dutch still loves the way I touch him. I love how they glide over the contours of his body, how they'll move about like a spider when I scritch and tickle, which he acts like he hates but I know he loves it, and eventually surrenders to. I love the way our fingers interlace; despite the difference in size and shape of our fingers. I love how they fit in with each other.

"I should do a study on your hands, Old Girl," Dutch purred, taking his time; I know he won't skimp on their details; every line on my knuckles will be drawn. "I still remember the first time you touched me, just a quick touch on the top of my hand when you brought that pan of bacon and eggs over to me, but I felt 'something' even there. And did I ever do things where you could 'accidentally' touch me."

I laugh, having a memory of him 'accidentally' brushing his hand against mine as we walked through some town. I don't know where it was, but I damn well knew he was flirting with me and I had to take him back behind somewhere to give him my first kiss. I wish I could remember where it was; I'd be happy to recreate it with him.

After a moment, he puts the graphite stick down for a moment and swallows hard. There's something he was trying to forget; I know the look he gets when he does that.

"Dutch . . . ?" I asked softly, concerned; I want to hold him and will.

"I'm just scared . . . " A word he doesn't use often; now it was his turn to feel vulnerable. "Of losing our memories."

I want to reach out and hold him, and I will. Sometimes I find myself forgetting about mundane things, locking the door and such, and it scares me. Dutch will forget things and will put on a stoic act; except today. Today was the first day where I caught him afraid of losing his most precious memories. The fear of getting dementia for people of our age is very real; we've built a life together, raised a family, lived out some dreams and let others slip through our fingers. To help us preserve those memories, we've created journals, and photographs taken of us, and now . . . Drawing each other again, this time as old men.

"I'll help you with that, my love," I speak softly. "It's why I agreed to do this."

I get a smile out of him again, and I'm glad of it. I don't like letting him stray into dark thoughts for long; it can be hard to bring him out of it. "I thought it was because you knew I was going to bring out the puppy eyes." Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he still uses them to try and get his way and yes, it's still very effective; damn manipulative old fart.

"That was part of it," I scoff. "I've never been good at resisting those."

Dutch gave me that look as he continued to draw, presumably my torso next. I know he won't spare any details. "There were maybe a handful of times when they didn't work. You put up one of those big personal space bubbles. I didn't care to cross those. You'd chase me off, and I knew how good you were with the gun." He laughed, still that husky laugh from all those years ago.

I smirk. I admit I got a bit of a power trip out of that. The others . . . Oh, they couldn't help but stop and watch. Maybe I earned more respect from them, and I might have carried a little swagger with them as well. Everyone needs a little ego boost.

"But . . . You'd always charmed and wormed your way back into my heart," I laugh, fondly remembering; putting up those invisible barriers was for the best when I felt my blood boiling after he said or did something particularly stupid, but it was so hard on both of us. "You did your damned 'I'll lie in your lap while you read so you pay complete attention to me' thing, to buying expensive things for me from chocolate to wine and silly imported cologne and gold watches and other expensive trinkets." Truthfully, one could think he was trying to buy off my anger, and maybe it was an attempt to do that, but . . . I found it amusing to see how far he'd go with it.

"You still have that gold watch from when that happened the first time," Dutch said, a certain twinkle in his eye; it still works after all these years. "Bought it with the money I got from that bank job."

There were so many opportunities that he had where he could just steal something for me but just didn't. "You never did like stealing my gifts directly."

"I find it more rewarding," Dutch murmured, a wide smile appearing across his face; from the motions of his hand, he's working on some shading. "Besides, we got the money, might as well put it to some use."

I find that charming. And one of his best assets is that he's charming, and he can be an absolute menace with it. It's why, of course, I've gone softer on him than I should have over the years. I could have rejected those little gifts when I dropped my invisible barrier, could have shoved him off my lap when he crawled into it, but . . . Sigh. He's impossible.

Then, Dutch charms me yet again.

He turns the sketchbook around to show me the progress of his work.

I'm speechless.

"You like it, Hosea?"

I swallow hard. I feel vulnerable once again, but . . . Something else.

Desired.

Laid out in front of me in that drawing is a portrait of an aged man. He has skin that has sagged in places, wrinkles, and contours that weren't there before. He has a slight paunch, very slight, that was once flat. Details of the legs haven't been completed, but there's already the start of some muscle definition there. And yet he carries himself with an air of dignity and wisdom. The shoulders and arms that he's bracing himself on are still nicely toned; maybe not as toned as they were in his youth, but no judgment. He's looking off to some faraway destination, that if I didn't know better, was miles away versus the other handsome elder man a few feet away.

"Yes . . . Yes, I do."

I seem transfixed for a long moment; we just give each other soft eye contact, saying so much with that alone. How we love each other, how we trust each other. He slowly moves back to drawing but peeks out at me from the top of the book as he does.

"What would you say about getting this framed?"

I break my expression to smile. "I'll steal the damn frame for you."

I get another hearty laugh out of him. He works on my legs next, and then my. . . assets. He's a study in concentration, not letting one bit of detail escape him. He knows his way around my body better than I do. Even at our age, we still explore each other as if it is the first time again; truthfully, with that familiarity he has of my body, he probably could have done this drawing blindfolded.

When he's completed, Dutch slips up next to me with the sketchbook clutched to his chest. He has a smile that wouldn't have just lit up our house with electricity, but also the next residence a few miles away that belongs to Lenny. He wraps an arm around my shoulder as he shows me the completed drawing, and I feel a hint of that strength that he still has as he gives me even a gentle squeeze.

I swallow hard, snuggling into his embrace. He senses that I'm getting emotional and kisses me on the top of my head, then my shoulder, and that spot between my head and shoulder. I feel myself nearly speechless, and the words that tumble out of my mouth don't seem enough to convey how I feel. Every detail was etched in; he even drew in scars I've collected over the years. I still feel an edge of vulnerability, but . . .

"It's wonderful, Dutch, thank you . . . " I turn in his hold and hug him tight, lightly rubbing his back as I do; although it still feels strong, the skin shifts there more easily these days and ripples underneath my fingers.

"You make me feel . . . Handsome."

Dutch gives my shoulder a squeeze. "Because you are, Old Girl."

"It's been a while since I've done some drawing, mostly landscapes and rabbits and things as you know, but I promise that I'll try to do you justice."

He nuzzles a kiss on my cheek. I still love the feeling of his bristly stubble on my cheek.

"Don't worry, Old Girl, I'll love it."

There is both unpredictability and predictability to Dutch, even now; he's frustrating in that regard. At the same time, he's a boy who's insecure and needy, craving every scrap of attention and affection that can come his way. He gets plenty of both, but Dutch is Dutch, and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

I take the graphite stick and sketchbook from him as he hands them over, kissing him on the cheek reluctantly as I break away from the hug and shift over to sit at the corner of the bed. "Now, pyjamas off. If I had to, you have to too." I sneak a playful wink.

Dutch chuckles and strips off the pyjamas, deciding to make a little show of it just as I did for him because Dutch is Dutch. He's already front and centre of attention as he's about to restart his modelling career, who thought he'd get back into it at sixty-five? I scoff and roll my eyes; this man amuses me as much as he can frustrate me.

I think for a moment about what pose he should get himself into. He does look rather sexy when he's brooding and smoking a cigar, is still rather delicious when he takes on a pinup girl pose, a silly thing he sometimes does to help get me in the mood. I could have him pose on his hands and knees, but I fear that would be too distracting for me. Then I had another idea, one pose of his that I find so underratedly sexy and beautiful.

"Now something... Vulnerable," I warmly suggest, my eyes gently meeting Dutch's eager gaze as he waits for further instruction. "Maybe that pose you often take after we've had sex, after the aftercare, where you look so... Delectably submissive." As much as the sex is still good and as much as we enjoy, I relish that period afterwards; I often lie in the crook of his arm as we lazily trace patterns on each other's skin, sometimes blowing raspberries on each other if we're feeling silly, and if this isn't unfolding at night, it causes us to happily put off whatever else needs to be done in the day.

Dutch smiles shyly at me and slowly lies on his back. He tucks one hand behind his head, as if playing with his hair (something he does when caught in a lie or playing coy with me for one reason or another), while the other is tucked up on his chest, not unlike a dog who wants his belly rubbed. His legs sprawl out, openly exposing his genitals. His expression is soft, trusting, and loving, his body language submissive and vulnerable, echoing the trust in his expression. At once, he looks incredibly sexy and slutty, yet adorable; a wonderful contradiction before my eyes that I could just about gobble up. Cute aggression, as they call it, is very real.

"You look comfortable," I murmur, letting my eyes roam over him before I start; my voice is soft and soothing, as if calming a restless horse instead of the man who looks anything but restless. "And absolutely... Precious."

Dutch almost whispers; many of you know him as someone who can be, well, loud. "The only way I could be more comfortable would be if you'd be snuggled up against me."

"That'll come when I'm done, Dutch," I smile, deciding to start with his face; I know how hard it is to maintain expression, so I thought it'd be humane to start with that first. "You still have such a gorgeous face."

Truthfully, I feel his face looks wiser than he is, but I love framing it in my hands as I look into those eyes. That big nose is a feature that some (wrongly, in my eyes) view as 'ugly,' but I find it to be wonderful, so unique, and I kiss it at every opportunity. Likewise, I find something special about that cleft chin, which he loves getting scratched. I love tracing a finger along his jawline, along those cheekbones, and of course, kissing those lips. I admit, I enjoy scratching that stupid soul patch, and I can't resist tracing a finger along that mustache as those early morning rays peek through the curtains. I draw each of these features in order of my narration in this paragraph and pour my heart into putting as much detail into them as possible.

Just as he had done with me, I want Dutch to feel as handsome as I see him.

"We should do this more often," Dutch spoke with a slight catch in his voice in his suggestion. "I think... I think it'd be a good way to remind us of the beauty of growing old."

I was touched by that and swallowed hard. He's right; there should be no shame in growing old. Old age shouldn't be something to be ashamed of; it's an accomplishment. I waste no time in making my decision.

"Absolutely," I answer softly, thinking of how beautiful the flowers are in spring in our surrounding area; we reside at what was once called Hanging Dog Ranch. Dutch decided to call it Casa Van der Linde. Are you surprised?

"During nice weather, we could even do it outside. I think that'd be lovely out by the flowers, by the creek."

There was no argument from Dutch. It's one of his favorite spots to read, go for a ride. I've once worried he had gone missing, but I've found him napping against a boulder among the lupins with that damn Evelyn Miller in his lap.

One of his novels, you perverts.

Once I was done with his other facial features, after I etched in my last detail for his ears, I shift my focus to his hair. It's still beautiful, and even more so now that it's silvered, and long! It hangs down his shoulders like a lion; magnificent. And it shines so nicely in those warm sunsets and sunrises and in the candlelight. His hairline has been receding, but he still has those lovely ringlets which I love to twirl between my fingers, and Dutch gets just as much enjoyment out of it. He still pushes his head back against my fingers, his eyes closed in contentment; it's not unheard of that my scalp massages, my playing with his hair goes on for hours. At times, I use his hair as something to grip onto for more risqué purposes. I know what you're thinking, but no, that's not the reason behind his receding hairline.

When I reluctantly pulled my attention away from his hair as I drew one more curl in, I worked on his neck next. The skin there had lost some elasticity, as mine had done as well, but still strong enough to carry that big head of his; it's weighed down with mangoes and plans. Then, his shoulders are my next target. They still have some nice muscle tone to them, and attached, long, lean strong arms (whose skin is thinner these days) that still hold me close and strong at night, as if protecting me from the boogeyman at night.

"I always liked your arms, you know," I muse, taking my time and shading them. "Lean and long and strong, and how I just... fit so well in them."

Dutch looks lost in thought for a moment, though I knew he was listening. There's a warm look in his eyes as if he was reliving a memory. "I remember holding you for the first time. It was that cold night . . . Someplace in West Elizabeth, before there was more development out in Strawberry. The fire wasn't doing a good enough job at keeping you warm and I thought, you'd be warmer up against me."

I chuckle, remembering. We tried to get back there for our latest anniversary; alas, the location was turned into a hunter's lodge for the rich, some big gaudy thing. It made our hearts sink. "It was when we were getting to know each other a little more. Truthfully, I thought you were coming onto me, holding me that close, and so tight. Not that I minded if you were, of course. I kept warm."

There's a spark in Dutch's eyes as he remembered. When you're married to someone as I have been, you notice little things that they tell you with their eyes. "I opened up my coat and pulled you into it, couldn't get all the way closed but I think the combination of our body temperatures compensated."

I can almost feel that warmth again. He had a massive Grizzly Bearskin coat that was an import from Canada, before getting that Black Bear one you might have seen him in; he unfortunately lost it during a train robbery.

Once I finished the shading on his shoulders and his arms, I start sketching out those big hands. I love them. His long, lean fingers are a bit stiffer these days, particularly in the colder months, but still do what they need to do; Special Tonic helps our old man hands tremendously. I massage his hands when they get particularly ouchy, as he does with me; Dutch always gets a bit grumpy when I start, but eventually, he gives in and enjoys it. If you guessed it, yes, he's still a bit of a baby at times over things. He still touches me in the right way, in the right places; they work well for that.

Just to tease me, Dutch plays with that hair a titch, giving me the puppy eyes look for no reason other than he can. I shake my head, scoffing. "You are really trying to prolong this, aren't you, Dutch?" I tease.

"Just got some locks caught up in my fingers, is all," Dutch teases, knowing that I know better. "I want my hair to look presentable for the drawing."

I scoff again, turning the book around to show the progress. "I've already drawn it."

"Oh, he's handsome!" Dutch grinned, giving his hips a bit of a squirm. "If you're not careful, I might flirt with him."

Flirting at an illustration of himself! It's just so... him. I just had to laugh, even if I encouraged him.

"You are impossible, Dutch."

Dutch just chuckles, giving that waist a bit of a squirm because he can. I pause the drawing for a moment because he is simply being too distracting.

"And now you're flirting with me!"

"When don't I?"

That old imp got me then. He always flirts with me; I could be reading the paper while sipping my coffee when he decides to pull my attention away by kissing me on the neck. It comes off as a bit silly these days rather than sexy. I haven't been able to fully read a newspaper in the morning in over thirty years, I'm secretly amused, and I think he knows it.

I eventually do get back to the drawing, moving my attention onto his chest. As mentioned earlier, the skin is, well, less taut there these days. He's never been the most barrel-chested fellow but looks even less so these days; all the same, I still love laying my head on it, feeling, and loving the warmth from it. I still love blowing kisses right over that heart, as he does with me. I etch in the details as I see them presented before me, details that took him a long time to come around to accepting, with some convincing from me. He's been gaining positive associations, learning to like parts of his body better through my kissing them more. Over time, Dutch has been feeling more handsome these days, something I regret from time to time!

"You ain't drawing me with saggy tits, are you?" Dutch teased; he's growing more comfortable with his aging body, so much so that he'll crack a joke about it.

"You drew me with a potbelly," I playfully retort, though I won't live in denial; I do have a tiny bit of one these days that has been resistant towards me working it off, but alas, it remains. "It's only fair."

The graphite stick does its job as I gradually work my way down towards his lower torso, along that ribcage that carries a bit more flesh on it these days. Like the rest of his torso, he's still very ticklish there; I just have to dig in a little deeper when I poke him there, still often in public when I need to keep him in line. Most recently, Dutch got a good jab when he flirted with the new bartender in Valentine; a rather handsome, big Irish fellow of around our age who took a liking to us. I got a little jealous!

It was during that flirty moment that I cut short that we get older it's not uncommon for us seniors to... Get a little daring, and explore different things with each other. Maybe next time we're in town, we'll ask that Irish gentleman if he has any plans for the afternoon outside of pouring beer and cleaning glasses.

But! There's a drawing that needs to be done.

I etch in some more details on that mid-torso; one being a bit of a roll of his waist; a lovely love handle. I love them. They're something extra for me to grab that wasn't there all those years ago, and it's a secret kissing spot. That spot on his right hip is as sensitive as it ever was, though like his ribs I have to dig in just a little more to get a reaction out of him. Just because those hips, that waist, are a little thicker these days, doesn't mean they're any less slutty. Oh, they are. I'd be lying if I said he didn't use them to get his way from time to time. Imagine being manipulated by a sixty-five-year-old man's waist, complete with love handles! It's not something I'll openly brag about.

Dutch's ass is largely absent in this drawing; it's buried itself comfortably into the bedspread but a teasing hint of it is seen.

The next stop on the drawing Dutch tour, his belly. It was once so flat you could drive a train on it, and well, now, that train would fall off the rails. To put it bluntly, Dutch has developed a paunch (which I love), that I could just bury my face in — and I do. It sits like a well-used cushion as he lays in the manner in which he is posing, the lower roll slightly curtaining his groin. The married life has been suiting him well; there are some consequences to hand-feeding each other expensive imported chocolate from Europe every evening, but we've earned it for living as long as we have with the lifestyle we've led. If I want to hear his laugh, I'll blow a kiss on that irresistible belly button that doesn't know it wants in or out.

It makes me sad to think that he had once been so self-conscious about the changes to his body. To me, with more flesh on him, more of him to love, he looks even more handsome as he's aged.

Dutch's genitals, which he openly has exposed in a show of voluntary vulnerability and submission, weren't spared of aging, but they still do their job. They're dipped down between his legs that lay sprawled before him, his pubic hair as grey as the hair on his head and chest. A lot of men of our age have trouble getting it up; we are not foolproof in this regard. As mentioned earlier, sex is still good, but when we can't get it up, we've found other ways to deliver pleasure to each other, and in many ways, sex is even more enjoyable as a result.

His legs are part of the final journey in this session. Dutch's are long and lean, and thanks to daily horseback riding, their musculature is still damn fine. Their appearance hides the stiffness that's in them these days; for us both, our walks take us a little more time. Now, before you take, would you be shocked to learn though that I suspect he milks it now and then through so that he gets leg massages?

Dutch's feet are my last target. Those too get massaged, sigh. I again leave no detail undrawn; yes, I even drew that gross big toe of his. He says it happened many years ago during a heist when he accidentally dropped a safe on his foot, but I know damn well it's because The Count stomped one night at camp. He had a few drinks and forgot his boots and well, bare feet around horse hooves aren't among the best combinations out there. Dutchi is a little dramatic; he likes to exaggerate from time to time.

I finish the drawing with some extra shading around those soft curves of his body and etch in a few details here and there that I have accidentally left out. I finish the drawing off with those rings of his, and I set the graphite stick on the bedside table. Just as he had done with me, I slip up into bed next to him, kiss him on the forehead, and open up the book to him with my arms around him as he cuddles up close into my lap.

Dutch gets emotional. We all know he's emotional, that's nothing to be alarmed at, but there are times when I think he's just going to crumble. I thought one of those moments was unfolding before my eyes as he rapidly blinks back tears. He's come so far in regaining self-esteem over the changes to his body; had I undone all of that?

Dutch shifts half of his torso into my lap to get a better look at my work, his eyes taking in the details. There's a noticeable waver to his voice as he speaks, but there's a smile on his face, and it can be heard in his voice.

"I don't think the finest artists out of Europe could draw a better likeness of me."

I was touched, honestly touched, but I laugh. Someone who hadn't drawn much lately aside from the odd rabbit and deer, and maybe the odd folks in town (clothed in case you get any ideas), better than those highly fluent artists who have their artwork displayed in major art galleries around the world? Dutch is still a charmer.

"Oh, you flatter me," I laugh, hugging as much of Dutch as I can. "But I think we both know you'd be thrown out of their studios. You talk and fidget too damn much for a model! You'd be a pain in the ass and go off on some philosophical rant about art and man."

Dutch belts out a laugh, turning over onto his back with a big, silly smile. We know each other a bit too well. "Oh, I thought I was being a bit on the quiet side."

I grab a lock of that hair, twirl a long silver strand between my fingers, and give it a playful tug. "Only because I didn't actively engage in conversation!"

"And you flirt! You'd be kicked out for that. Something about needing to maintain professional conduct between artist and model." As if to emphasize, I poke him on his chest and then his belly, because I had to make him squeak. He deserves it.

There's a playful twinkle in Dutch's eyes as he positions himself to be poked again; he secretly loves it. I can also almost see the wheels, rusted as they might be, turning in his head. He's planning something and plays it coy.

Oh, but I think we don't have to maintain any of that pompous professional conduct here. We're small gallery-type artists. Flirting just grows familiarity with the model and artist. We have the perfect formulation."

I sigh, shaking my head, but decide to play along and see how far he goes. I smirk a knowing smirk, knowing it'll just egg him on. "What if the artist and model have already grown very familiar with each other?"

"Then, flirting becomes flirting with creativity," Dutch speaks a bit lower, dragging a finger along my jawline, to my neck, to the base of my ear. My breath hitches sharply; he knows damn well how that touch affects me.

"It can change perspective, explore new art concepts."

The moment I saw that glint in his eyes, that smirk, I knew Dutch was going to make good on my promise to 'kiss every inch of my body.'

"It's important for artists to study their subject before they even pick up their medium of choice," Dutch perfects the voice of an artist giving a speech at one of those big art galleries as he sets the book on the bedside table.

"You want to take in what you see in front of you and decide, what style should I use? Should this be realism, or should it be abstract? What medium should I use? And what will the meaning be behind the result?"

Dutch gently, smoothly, lays me down and starts to kiss my neck. I close my eyes, taking in the warmth from his lips, his warm breath tickling the fine hairs on my neck. He slowly trails more kisses down towards my collarbone, spending some time there before making his way down further on my chest. My back involuntarily arches up off the mattress as I feel his tongue just lightly tease a nipple, urging more out of him.

In between those kisses though, and the further he shifts his way down my body, Dutch starts to offer a string of names and dates of some famous paintings throughout history. He's trying to impress me with his artisan knowledge. Sometimes, I think there's a library in that thick skull of his, but a library where the books have all fallen off the shelves following a tornado. It all becomes a mess of dates and names that I cannot possibly save for later reference.

I roll my eyes, trying to tune out Dutch's voice as I focus on the sensation of his lips and tongue exploring me as if it were the first time. I encourage him when he's quiet, my hands roaming through those long locks of hair, savoring how nice it feels after all these years and just how thick it still is. While my hair hasn't turned to shit, I might be envying his.

And then, Dutch brings up the subject of man and art and how it will change humanity.

Oh God. He's going philosophical.

I'll have to stop this or he'll be talking at all hours of the night.

I know that to interrupt his ramble, I'll have to put the kisses—wonderful as they are—on pause. I firmly guide him up so that we're facing each other and roll my eyes as he gives a look that resembles a love-struck teenager, wanting to kiss again after stopping to catch a breath after a lengthy makeout session. Only this is a sixty-five-year-old man who thinks he could kiss every inch of my body while rambling about the history of art and its philosophy without me falling asleep.

I smirk and, after wrapping my legs around him, I turn him over so that I'm on top of him; there's very little resistance from him. Before he can get another word in about 18th-century philosophy in paintings, I entangle my fingers through that gorgeous silver hair and ease him in for a long, lingering kiss on his lips, which he returns in earnest. It does a damn good job of shutting him up, and well, I rarely turn down an opportunity to kiss that man. His lips are still so soft, and that mustache creates a ticklish sort of feeling on my skin that might turn others off, but I rather enjoy it.

Despite our age, something primal sometimes stirs within us when our lips are locked and tongues slip into each other's mouths, and I love it. This was one of those times.

There's a subtle battle of dominance taking shape. Dutch rolls me back over as he pushes his tongue against mine, a low, animalistic growl erupting from his chest. Being that I'm still very much top dog in this relationship (something that certain someone needs to be reminded about), I simply can't allow that. I push him right back with all my might, which isn't much these days, but he doesn't fight back too strongly, knowing. As evident from how easily it was to turn him over, I would say some of that strength reserve of his isn't quite at full tilt either. He tries once more to gain control of the situation -- complete with a playful grab of my ass. Naughty boy! I give his hand a light smack as I turn him back over, and finally hold him down with my legs possessively wrapped around him.

When we break from the kiss, Dutch looks at me that way again, as if I were some magnificent sculpture in Italy instead of this old man lying on top of him. I smack him on his ass with a snort; there's a satisfying sound that sounds not unlike what you'd get from smacking the rear of a pig, if you're into that sort of thing. I'm not one of those people, so you'll have to use your imagination. He loves it, evident from his boyish giggle.

"Happy Valentine's Day, you old rogue."

Dutch just looks at me with that lovestruck puppy expression. I can't resist, and I kiss him again.

[marvelmusing]

Hi, here’s me gently begging for V Day HCs featuring the boys (especially Aleks bc I have a Problem)…what would they like on a first (or fifth) date? Extra points for if there’s some kind of supernatural element bc I am eternally in a magical mood!

Hello!! I saw V Day HCs and immediately started writing about a Valentine’s Day date with each of my boys - Billy, Logan, Aleksander, a few au Aleksander’s as well as my Russo twins (I will probably do first date HCs on another post at some point too)

Billy

I’m picturing the most casual Valentine’s Day celebration for you and Billy.

Billy comes home with a bunch of roses for you, and on your way home from work you buy a bottle of Billy’s favourite wine that he always forgets to buy for himself.

Once you’re home, you order your favourite takeout and the two of you sit on the couch together and watch a film that you both know by heart, so that you can spend most of the time talking and enjoying the food.

You make ice cream sundaes for one another, cramming all of Billy’s favourite sweet treats into the glass while he does the same for you.

Billy opens up the wine, and somehow the two of you end up playing twister on the floor next to the couch.

He tries to distract you into losing by coordinating his movements so that he can keep his body pressed against yours.

When you hold strong against his distractions, he decides to change tactic. He drops kisses against whatever skin he can reach, making you wobble and soon the two of you have landed on the floor in a crumpled heap.

Billy’s lips stay on yours in a passionate kiss, and neither of you try to untangle yourselves from the position you’re in. The sticky sweetness from the sundaes linger on your lips as you continue to trade kisses with one another.

When Billy carries you to the bedroom you notice that he’s strewn rose petals over the sheets and lit candles around the room, which prompts you into kissing him even harder.

He might protest against it, but deep deep down Billy Russo is a hopeless romantic - even more so now that he has someone to share his love with.

Aleksander

Aleksander had been looking forward to spending Valentine’s Day with you, but when you disappear off to somewhere in the Little Palace he assumes the holiday doesn’t mean much to you.

So, he goes to his study and gets on with some of his work.

Meanwhile, you’re in the kitchens making him a heart-shaped cake which seems to take you forever to get it perfect enough that you feel confident gifting to Aleksander.

It’s a simple vanilla sponge, but you made the strawberry jam and buttercream filling all yourself.

The icing on top of the cake is a little wonky and the juice from the sliced strawberry decorations is slowly staining the white cream but you’re rather pleased with the result as you walk carefully through the hallways towards Aleksander’s study.

You manage a few thudding knocks against the door with your elbow and Aleksander calls for you to enter.

“Are you busy?” you ask him, noticing that he doesn’t lift his head from his papers. He hums distractedly. “I made you something.”

At that he lifts his head, turning to look at you.

He sees the flour on your clothing, a smudge of cream on your forehead, and the shimmer of sticky jam drying on your exposed forearms. Then he sees the cake.

“My love, you didn’t-”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” You step closer, placing the cake down on a paper-free corner of his desk. “Happy Sankt Valentine’s Day.”

He pushes his papers away, pulling the cake closer so that he can admire it. Then he stands, taking your chin between his fingers to kiss you.

“I’ll send for a pot of tea.”

“If you’re busy I can wait.”

He shakes his head.

“The only thing I want to do today is spend time with you.”

Logan

All I’m going to say is: arcade games.

You had come up with it as a surprise for Logan after he had told you he never really celebrated Valentine’s Day before.

I know for a fact that Logan gets puppy dog level of excited at all the different games. All you have to do is keep tight hold of his hand as he leads you from one game to the next.

He loves the two player games, so that you can play together though he pouts whenever he loses against you - regularly demanding a rematch. He is terrible at air hockey and it takes five losses in a row for him to finally give up.

I’m also picturing Logan being completely unable to accept defeat over a claw machine.

He sees you glance longingly at one of the stuffed animals inside and immediately vows to get it for you.

“Logan, honey it’s fine. You’ve spent way too much.” He shakes his head.

“These things are rigged,” he assures you. “Once you’ve spent enough they’ll give you one.”

“And exactly how much is classed as enough?” He ignores your teasing, shooting you a smirk.

“Only one way to find out, sweetheart.”

When he finally wins the stuffed animal for you, he wears a proud smile all night, replaying your delighted reaction to his win over in his head.

The two of you buy all sorts of junk food and share it between you as you sit on a bench.

Once you’re finished, the two of you talk about your favourite moments, laughing at different points in each others stories. You lean your head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you and Logan confesses that this is the best Valentine’s Day he’s ever had.

Vampire!Aleksander (TLC!AU)

You’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s Day. As a vampire, it’s been hard for you to maintain romantic relationships with anyone.

Alina bought you a friendship Valentine last year. It was just a simple bunch of your favourite flowers but you had cried when she gave them to you.

She explains this to Aleksander as the celebratory day approaches so that he can be prepared.

He invites you over to his apartment and gives you the opportunity to have a look around while he begins to prepare dinner.

Aleksander is an incredible cook.

Whatever your favourite dish is, Aleksander will have learnt how to make it. He will have bought the freshest, and most high quality ingredients.

He opens up an expensive blood vintage for the two of you to drink while you sit at the kitchen island, legs swinging, completely mesmerised by the sight of him cooking.

You don’t know how he does it, but he takes your favourite food and makes it even more exquisite. He uses some different bloods to provide enough flavour to satisfy your vampiric nature, but still enjoy the food as if you were still human.

He makes you feel normal. Like a human on Valentine’s Day, celebrating with the person that means the most to them.

It makes you a little emotional, but Aleksander wipes your tears away and kisses you softly before he reminds you that you deserve every second of this wonderful evening.

Vampire!Aleksander (BIT!AU)

This man owns a huge castle in the middle of the countryside, so of course we’re going to take advantage of that and have a midnight picnic.

Aleksander is the most frightening thing in the woods and fields that make up his estate, so there’s no fear of anything lurking in the darkness as the two of you walk towards the picnic spot he had created.

Aleksander insists on no lighting at all, meaning that you’re reliant on him for everything due to his excellent eyesight that allows him to see in the dark.

He keeps an arm tucked around you as you walk and he helps you get settled on the soft blanket beneath you.

Your eyes do adjust a little and the moon occasionally peers out from behind a cloud but you don’t try to strain your eyes to see, Aleksander will help you with anything.

He feeds you luxurious sweet treats, sucking the sugary taste from your lips after each swallow. He nips lightly on your shoulder, drawing a little blood for him to feed off and you both sigh in pleasure as he does.

After this, you’re content to lie snuggled up beside him as he points out constellations and explains how they’ve changed since he was still a human. When your eyes grow heavy, he pulls out a book and begins to read.

It’s still strange to witness Aleksander reading perfectly from a book that you can barely even see in the darkness, let alone manage to decipher the words printed there.

His soft voice soothes you, encouraging you to nestle closer to him and rest your head against the crook of his neck where you eventually fall asleep.

Billy & Jonny (platonic) (Twins!AU)

Billy has been having a rough week so you and Jonny decide to make something sweet for him to enjoy.

It starts with some cookies.

You don’t know how it went wrong - but it did. Some of the cookies merged together in the oven and the others ended up black around the edges.

When you suggested cutting the edges off, Jonny seemed eager to salvage your creations. It’s only once he removes the darkened edges that you notice another issue.

“Jonny that’s raw.”

“It ain’t raw, it’s just…” He pokes the middle of a cookie, nose wrinkling at the texture which prompts him to quickly wipe his hand. “Soft.”

“And damp?” you add.

“Hm.”

“How about brownies?”

“Good idea.”

Because surely the two of you can’t fail at a box mix?

Billy returns home to his apartment, feeling rather dejected by the impromptu meeting at a bar with some investors that Frank had dragged him to.

He’s expecting to put his feet up and remain on the couch for a very long time. He’s not even sure if he can be bothered to order some food in tonight.

What he isn’t expecting is to hear you and his brother creating a ruckus in his kitchen.

“Just smack it!” you exclaim.

“I am smacking it!” Jonny protests.

“Smack it harder then.”

“Yeah cause it worked so well when you tried that, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grumble. “I’ll clean it up before Billy gets home.”

“What’s that?” Billy asks with a smirk as he leans on the door frame.

He laughs at the sight of your eyes widening in horror. Quickly you grab the metal tray from Jonny’s hands and thrust it towards Billy.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Don’t look at the kitchen floor,” you warn him.

A smile spreads over his face as he looks down at the slightly crumbled brownie that had welded itself to the tray. He assumes this is what you and Jonny had been squabbling over when he arrived.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He drops a kiss onto your cheek before he sits down at the kitchen island, picking up a spoon and scooping out some of the brownie.

“No ‘thank you’ kiss for me?” Jonny teases.

Billy rolls his eyes at his brother before he gestures towards the more crumbled half of the brownie.

“Where did the rest go?”

Jonny smirks and you flush nervously.

“Not important,” you say quickly. After a pause you add, “On an unrelated note, where’s your sweeping brush?”

Billy laughs. The brownie might not be the best he’s ever tasted, but you’ve certainly turned his night around.

-

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @sweetwritingfanficfriend @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny

[randomly-a-fan]

Jason vs Pennywise (Valentines’ Day Story)

It’s only a day left until Valentines’ Day, which may be exciting to MJ and Aquarius, since their lovers usually gives them corny gifts; like flowers, chocolates, balloons... Well, Pennywise gives the balloons, since they only float for a day, it’s a waste of money, according to Jason. Since last year, Jason asked for a heart balloon from Pennywise in exchange for whatever he wants; which are MJ’s sketching of his wife. It was an awkward request, and it’d be harder to talk MJ into doing a portrait of Star. That trade was a big rip-off; once the day came, not only did the balloon popped, MJ suffered with a headache for working hard on the portrait.

Last year was awful, but this year, Jason is not going to screw this Valentines’ Day up. However, Jason was not the only one, Pennywise was also trying to make this years’ Valentines’ Day special for his wife. He tried to make a reservation at different restaurants that he can afford, but they’re all booked up. He’s also having a hard time finding a sitter for the kids, so they can’t go on an overnight date, so him and Aquarius will have to make the best of it, but he still wanted to find his wife a great gift to make up for last year. The sketch that he asked Jason to get MJ to do of his wife, it got ruined by Kandy getting a hold of it and shred it into pieces; It’s her way of learning to catch prey at an early age. Valentines’ Day wasn’t that special as he have hoped. So he has to make this year count.

***

At the Market, there was a last-minute sale on Valentine gifts for lovers, so Jason and Pennywise so happen to have come on the same day. Jason took a glance at the red roses, they’re extremely expensive, but for this occasion, they’re half price. As Jason was going to grab the bouquet, he saw another hand that was about to grab the bouquet. Pennywise was going to buy the same bouquet. “Oh, Jason hi... Looking for a gift for MJ are you?” Pennywise asked. Jason didn’t want to make a scene, so he gave Pennywise a reply. “Yeah... And I’m assuming that you were going to get roses for Star as well?” Jason asked. “Yeah... So uh, I’ll just take these roses and--” Pennywise was about to grab them until Jason stopped him. “I saw them first, so I get the roses.” Jason said. “Well I got to them first, so I get the roses!” Pennywise replied. 

Jason and Pennywise were staring at each other angrily while not realizing that the roses that they both wanted to buy were gone. Jason noticed that the young man took the roses while he and Pennywise were distracted. “Damn it! These were the only good ones left!” Pennywise pouted. “There’s still a chance, we’ll depart ways so we don’t end up trying to get the same thing.” Jason said. Pennywise snorted. “Fine, just stay out of my way so I can give my Star the gift of her life!” Pennywise said before he stormed off.

As Jason and Pennywise parted ways, they continue on the search. Pennywise spotted something that he knew Star will love. Red Velvet assorted chocolates, he remembered he got Aquarius a heart-shaped box of human flesh on their first Valentines’ Day together. So getting a box of chocolates would be a surprising attempt for Aquarius. However, Jason got to it first. “Jason wait! I was going to buy those.” Pennywise shouted. “Sorry Pennywise, but my wife loves Red Velvet, so I’m buying her chocolates.” Jason said in his head. Pennywise couldn’t let Jason get the chocolates, so he came up with an excuse. “You know, my wife bought those same chocolates last year for MJ’s birthday, she then told me that she didn’t like them, so she ended up keeping the chocolates to herself. What do you suppose she’ll do with the chocolates that you’ve given her?” Pennywise asked. Jason had a pretty good feeling that Pennywise was making an excuse, but what if he’s not? MJ’s last birthday did happen, so it’s likely that Aquarius would give MJ something like this, but couldn’t accept it. So he decided to take the risk. 

Jason put the chocolates back and went on the search for a different gift. Until he remembered something. Eric had the same chocolates, and he invited MJ and her family to join in, and she loved them. Jason started to boil. “YOU CLOWN JUNKER!” Jason went after Pennywise to fight over the box of chocolates. “You didn’t even want it; you put it back on display!” Pennywise said as he was fighting the urge to not let go. 

Things got a little violent until security came to stop the fight. “That’s enough you two! I’ll take the box, while you two clowns--” “Hey, I’m the only clown!” Pennywise cut off. “Just get the hell out of the market and stay out!” The security guy snapped as he escorted them out. “If his fear wasn’t so vile, I would have eaten him.” Pennywise admits. Jason just snorted and turned away. “Oh come on, Jay! This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me accept the chocolates!” Pennywise said. Jason sharply turned towards Pennywise. “Well maybe things would have been better if you just let me get the flowers!” Jason yelled back from his mind. Jason didn’t want to make a scene again, so he decided to leave. Pennywise gave Jason the finger before he heads off.

***

Jason went over to a different store to pick up some flowers, the ones he spotted were not roses, but they’re pretty and were her favorite color [Pink]. Jason looked around quickly before taking the flowers. Then he grabbed the bouquet; mission accomplish. Just as Jason was waiting at the checkout, he noticed Pennywise with the bouquet of lavender flowers. Jason wished that he had those kinds of flowers, MJ loved the smell of natural lavender at night. But he’s not going to fight over the bouquet of flowers, so he’s sticking with what he’s got.

***

When Jason finally came home, he saw his two favorite girls decorating shortbread cookies for Malon’s class for Valentines’ Day. So Jason placed the flowers in the shed for the next day, and greet his two favorite girls... And maybe sneak a cookie or two.

Meanwhile, Pennywise came back home with the lavender and was greeted by Kandy crawling towards her daddy. “Hiya Gumdrop!” Pennywise quickly hid the lavender flowers so he can pick up his baby girl. “How’s my little monster, hmm, huh?” Pennywise cooed with a funny face. Kandy blew raspberries at her daddy, with him doing the same. After a while, he handed Kandy to Archie so he can hide the flowers more properly. 

However, When Star finally came home, she was for some reason sneezing up a storm. “Whoa!” Archie said in shock. “Mom, are you sick?” Archie asked. “No, I feel fine... I think I’m having an allergy.” Aquarius believed before she sneezed again. That worried Pennywise a lot, if Aquarius was sneezing this much, then that means that she could be allergic to lavender. “Oh shit.” Pennywise said to himself. “Uh, honey... I think I have left something at Jason’s place, I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” Pennywise said. “Huh? Oh yeah, sure... I’ll get dinner started...” Aquarius said while rubbing her itchy eyes. 

***

Back at Camp Crystal Lake, Jason was helping Malon decorate cookies for school; he made the icing, while Malon does the decorating. “I've read the recipe, measured the ingredients and mixed the batter, mommy didn’t even help me, [to MJ] did you mom?” Malon asked after she turned to face her mom, as she was doing the dishes. “Nope, Malon did it all on her own... With my help with the oven.” MJ replied and admits. “Yeah... She did, but everything else was done by me.” Malon said to her dad with pride. Jason chuckled before rubbing her head.

As the two are finishing up the cookies, there was a knock on the door. MJ walked over to answer it while her family starts cleaning up. “Oh, hello Pennywise.” MJ greeted. “Hiya MJ, may I please speak to Jason? it’s very urgent.” Pennywise requested. MJ nodded and called out to her husband. “Jay, Pennywise needs to talk to you, he said it’s urgent; I’ll help Malon clean up while you go outside and meet with him.” MJ said.

Jason groaned before he got out to hear what Pennywise has to say. “Listen, Jay. I’m truly am sorry for nearly getting you in trouble back at the market, but it turns out that my wife is highly allergic to lavender, so I was wondering if we can switch bouquets; I’ve overheard your thoughts on how you wished you could have the lavender bouquet. So... Wanna trade?” Pennywise asked with a hopeful smile. 

Jason was still holding a grudge against Pennywise; especially from last year when his balloon did not float for very long and how he gave his wife a headache for doing a portrait for him. So he gave him an honest answer. “You’ve gave me a crappy balloon and gave my wife a headache last year, then you’ve lied to me about how my wife hated the red velvet chocolates that I was going to buy for her, so forget it!” Jason snapped. “Come on! I said I was sorry, what more could I possibly do?” Pennywise asked. Jason looked back at Pennywise before going back inside the house. “You want my advice? suck it up; and think before you act.” Jason advised before slamming the door in his face.

Malon was secretly watching from the Livingroom window and heard the whole conversation. Jason didn’t notice his daughter in the Livingroom, as he stormed off into his and his wife’s bedroom to think. Malon then saw Pennywise sitting while crying with depression. With Malon being so pure, she wanted to help him, since her dad was being too stubborn to do anything for his so-called friend.

Pennywise heard the door open and closed, he was hoping that it’d be Jason. But to his disappointment, it was only Malon. “Mr. Pennywise?” Malon said while walking towards him. “Just call me ‘Pennywise’, please.” Pennywise said while not looking at her in the eyes. “Pennywise, I’ve heard what you’ve been through; I’ve never seen my dad being this stubborn, especially to his friend... And I’ve never seen you feeling this depressed.” Malon assumed. “Why are you bringing this up? If you’re planning to help me, well you’re wasting your time; this was an adult situation, it doesn’t concern you.” Pennywise said in a harsh tone. “I may be a preteen, but I know a little about relationships. So, I thought maybe we can settle on a little arrangement; I love lavender as much as mom, so how about I help you make a huge bouquet of paper-flowers, in exchange for those lavender flowers?” Malon offered.

Pennywise turned his head in surprise. “Why do you want to help me? back then, I was going to eat you... I’ve kidnapped you...” Pennywise said sadly. “That’s the thing, it’s in the past; you’ve done some great deeds in the past too, and less on your crimes. Now, come inside; we’ll go into my room and work on making flowers for your Star.” Malon said as she held out her hand for Pennywise. Pennywise accepted the invitation and followed Malon to her room.

***

While Malon looks for her paper-flower making kit, Pennywise was looking at some pictures of Malon and her parents, then he caught a glimpse on a photo of just Malon and Jason together; when Malon fell asleep with her daddy, which was from when she had the chicken-pox. 'Who ever thought Jason could be this soft, yet so hard.' Pennywise thought to himself. “Found it!” Malon said, which startled Pennywise a little. “Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to scare you, not the other way around.” Pennywise joked. Malon giggled before she sat down on the floor. “I’ve got this set from my grandparents last Christmas, but I don’t seem to be doing this right; even my mom was stumped.” Malon admits. “No problem, I can help you with that, let me see the instructions.” Pennywise offered before taking the instructions from Malon’s hands.

Pennywise read the instructions closely before looking at the parts to use and how to make the formation. “I can see why it’s complicated to someone like you, and I’m assuming it’s hard for your mom because she’s autistic...” “Don’t say stuff like that! Mom was trying to NOT use her autism as an excuse. It’s easy for you because your head is so big.” Malon snapped. There was a few second pause until Pennywise said something. “Touché... Now then, it’s really quite simple, let me show you how it works...”

So for about twenty minutes, Pennywise has been teaching Malon how to make the flowers and in different styles, that way, Malon can make paper-flowers for her parents like she wanted to. “Now you’re getting it, they’re looking great.” Pennywise complimented. “Well, I have a pretty good teacher.” Malon said with a smile. “I’m loving your paper-flower bouquet, I know Star is going to love them, and she can’t be allergic to them because they’re made of tissue-paper.” Malon added. “Well, I have a pretty good friend.” Pennywise said with a wink.  

As they were cleaning up the mess, they heard a door knock. ‘Oh God, I hope it’s not dad.’ Malon said in her head. “Malon, supper’s almost ready, it’s time for you to get washed up.” MJ ordered kindly. “I’ll be right out!” Malon answered back. “Good thing we’ve finished your bouquet on time. “Yeah, thanks again; and, as promised...” Pennywise hands Malon the bouquet of lavender before escaping through the window with the flower bouquet. Malon sighed in relief, before she walked out of her room to wash her hands then have her supper.

***

As Malon thought that her dad never knew, he secretly did. Not only did he see Pennywise leaving with the paper flowers, but he heard him and his daughter talking. Is he mad? sort of, but not at Malon, even though she was being sneaky; however, he’s still holding a grudge for Pennywise’s behavior, but at least he’s not holding a grudge from last year. So he decided to keep his frustrating day to himself and enjoy his family time with his family.

Even though Jason and his girls were having a nice time, he couldn’t help but think about his daughter’s personality. She’s so pure, just like her mother; which isn’t always the best thing, her pureness could put her into so much trouble if her behavior doesn’t resolve. However, like Jason committed to himself, he’s not going to ruin this, not even on the day when he give his wife a bouquet of flowers, and when his daughter comes home excitedly with a bunch of cards and goodies.

The End

[upismediacenter]

FEATURE: BTBBTS: Business Throwback and Behind the Scenes

Perhaps you miss the UPIS Fair; or maybe you’ve heard stories about the flurry of commercial and romantic activity in Februaries past. How about the Business Fair? Were you half as enthralled as these shop-obsessed writers were upon beholding their online pubmats? Join us in this lofty undertaking and let BTBBTS recount tales of old trades and demystify the present business climate in UPIS.

—Throwback—

In days long gone-by, both staff and students alike would anticipate jumping from table-to-table to eye arrays of goods touted by students from higher grade levels at the Practical Arts (PA) Pavillion. To the gratitude of teachers at their students’ replenished enthusiasm, classmates of Track and Field (TnF) athletes would be in less danger of dozing off mid-lecture so long as they’d been able to purchase some of the treats proffered to them by their fleet-footed peers in between classes.

From gushing about “cute higher years” manning stalls for their internships, to getting rattled over how the recipient of a Peer Facilitators’ love note might receive one’s sentiments, such reminiscences now seem like the stuff of dreams—viewed from lenses too greatly muddled by the abrading passage of these last two years.

Alas, the pandemic has put an end to many enterprises and events that once all seemed so deeply-anchored in the UPIS experience. To commemorate them and do their memory justice, a detailed throwback is in order.

While the UPIS Fair was one of the most anticipated events for the whole UPIS community, the weeks leading up to it were also some of the busiest and most taxing of the school year. It combined the stress of setting up booths, practicing late into the night for Power Dance (PD), as well as readying oneself for the other events that the pKA had planned. On top of all that, students were also likely to support the overhanging weight of either wistfully wanting or having to celebrate Valentine's.

Such is why a certain club in UPIS made it a tradition to sell small gifts and distribute them amongst the student body—an operation which was highly-favored by students who wished to either surprise their loved ones or maintain anonymity in relating their affections. In the past, the Peer Facilitators Club’s “Cupid’s Express” was everyone’s go-to service when it came to purchasing presents during Valentine's season.

Arrays of Valentine’s merchandise sold under the “Cupid’s Express” by the Peer Facilitators Club. Retrieved from: https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1095680340792815616?s=46&t=X_bY8iVgd34sk2KyH15CcQ

Their products ranged from stuffed toys to roses and polaroids, the latter having been the most popular amongst couples in school. Another service was actually delivering those gifts to the people whom they were dedicated to.

Days before UPIS Week, some might recall how the club’s members would come up and try to coax fellow students into buying their products. “Hindi naman kailangan i-dedicate sa crush, kahit sa tao lang na ina-admire mo—no harm in making them feel appreciated,” is a line, often accompanied with a wide and assuring smile, that students were more than all too familiar with.

According to Achilles De Leon, a former Peer Facilitators Club member, such inducements were utilized in order to reach their quota. Every member was given order slips and was tasked to sell the number assigned to them by a deadline.

This was to ensure that target sales were achieved without having to do last-minute selling during UPIS week. By then, they would have graduated to another mission—gift distribution. The funds of the club mainly depended on this single event, thus the need for risk-dispelling quota sales.

De Leon said that while stressful, knowing how it would benefit the club later on made it all worth the effort. That in spite of ruing his “lack of salesmanship” and frequent rejection by prospective customers, there’s much gratitude too from all he’d learned.

Sadly, the Peer Facilitators Club has since gone out of order along with all other school clubs because of the pandemic. Clubs were not the only organizations that sold products with the goal of raising funds however; so did some sports teams, but they too have regrettably halted their operations.

A shirt bought from the TnF team in 2019. Photo credit: Allana dela Cruz

In the past, the Track and Field (TnF) team would sell sweets and shirts in order to raise money for their athletes. They sold all year round, though with greater fervor come UAAP season.

The most popular amongst their edible goods were yemas and cereal bars—some might even recall them being lugged around in big containers. They were often bought during breaks or discreetly distributed when class was taking place. The latter would be much akin to a game of hot potato owing to the wariness of seatmates in dropping their classmates’ change; even conspicuous coin jingling was liable to a teacher’s, “Kaninong pera kaya yun?” Many delighted in the closer proximity to food as it saved them from trips to the canteen. The TnF team also made sure that their snacks were accessible to the entire student populace by providing a seller for each grade level.

Former TnF athlete, Aleah de Castro, said that their shirts’ popularity even extended to members of the students’ families because of the choice to customize and have their surname printed at the back. The organization had a quota of 10 shirts per member, but de Castro remarked that it was an easy feat as some students would buy more than one shirt at a time. She said that her past role in sales led her to learn a lot about business and consumer attitudes—particularly, in knowledge regarding products most sought-after and in the employment of various persuasive maneuvers.

De Castro relayed that she had a lot of fun with the selling—owing in part, she observes, to her past experience in it. She had already been selling cupcakes to her classmates from as early as fourth grade. Desirous she may be to carry it out in limited face-to-face, she is hesitant for fear of her products’ being possible cause for transmission of diseases.

At present, it appears that the only remaining school organization with entrepreneurial undertakings is the Pamunuan ng Kamag-Aral (pKA)—UPIS’ student council. As the student council, their services will continue for as long as there is a student body to lead; it will only ever have “defunct” stamped across its banners should UPIS be so too (and to that, we pray never). While one of its main objectives is to aid in upholding the four core values of Love, Truth, Justice, and Freedom, their business ventures appear to espouse an unratified fifth—School Pride.

Samples of merchandise from pKA 2018 and 2019. Retrieved from: https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1024248514895695873?s=46&t=6Alc-ewq6ZX1CnF4WaFEKA https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1024233925739085824?s=46&t=6Alc-ewq6ZX1CnF4WaFEKA https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1157969530485764099?s=46&t=uw-rHmQk5w6pQLkBgzq_9w

Prior to the onslaught of COVID, pKA products came in the form of various clothing attire and accessories such as shirts and lanyards embossed with the UPIS logo. They were more or less, as former Vice President Romi Okada would put it, school merchandise. Though generally met with much enthusiasm for their attractive designs, parental zeal was also a primary ascription for particularly successful sales amongst K-2 and Elementary students.

While the supportive community was integral to the student council’s commercial triumphs, chief credit lies within the efforts of its members for their thoughtful planning and strategic promotion via accessible publication material. “The design of the pub for the product really helped; kasi if it's more accessible and easier to understand, more people are going to get attracted,” said Okada.

The tickets sold by pKA for UPIS Fairs 2019 and 2020. Retrieved from: https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1094217774476345345?s=46&t=X_bY8iVgd34sk2KyH15CcQ https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1226499064444809219?s=46&t=X_bY8iVgd34sk2KyH15CcQ

The pKA trade wasn’t just limited to pursuits in the sartorial however. If the commencement of the school year was devoted to such, its incipient conclusion would see them vending tickets for the school fair—better known as UPIS Days. Earnings would be reserved for funding the succeeding year’s events such as the Leadership Camp (LC)—in which only a lucky few partook—and the aforesaid fair, wherein the organization would also plan for and host multifarious activities, namely: club wars, Power Dance (PD), and the Battle of the Bands (BotB).

Mandatory it may have been, rarely did exertion slacken—noble too, always remained, the student council’s intentions. To quote Okada, “It really taught me that it wouldn’t hurt to go all-out; more funds meant a better outcome or event. So of course more people would enjoy and be satisfied.”

Last year’s pKA merchandise sold during UPIS Days 2022 “Tanaw”. Retrieved from: https://twitter.com/upispka/status/1518538199764996097?s=46&t=-qPe4m2ONnSpx1IBU8XFbA

For the time being, the pKA business has continued to persist—selling still accessories and articles of clothing that brandish trademark UP icons and phrases. Unlike pre-pandemic procedures wherein most of the income would circle back to their treasury, for pKA 2021-2022, half of the sales went to the Save Our Schools (SOS) network which was dedicated to helping Lumad youth.

In line with their enduring retail, we now take a turn to the present state of the UPIS business situation and those at its forefront.

—Behind the scenes—

A compilation of the BE strand’s six start-up companies’ logos. Retrieved from: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=136251722484762&set=a.136251729151428&type=3

Since many school businesses have gone out of commission, the current UPIS marketplace mostly comprises the trades of student entrepreneurs both extrinsic and belonging to the Business & Entrepreneurship (BE) track. In our current set-up, some might say that the BE strand appears to be somewhat elusive—a collective whose inner workings outsiders are made privy to only through arrestingly persuasive pubmats promoting their sales internships.

Each company’s solo promotional material for DiskoBErey 2022: Beyond Expectations. Retrieved from: https://fb.watch/g6yTxaR9Pt/ https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid07kSTz1m4499MU3L74QKhYyfAfRpFCzSJmPTMvwzSr2yHtQCgPZwPBmDLyibwJj4kl&id=102315785777322 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid027sRo1mAU3HS3RTPBVGRmmF5ahcWSan9pVf7Nbb52uck6j3FjY23ZNj7BSsiHq8AXl&id=102315785777322 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0Tdb91z1LiAjKvV2eUB3UeEsdvwuxakR5hpZvV33w6cLnK11J7Th5ZxmmimvCoLcLl&id=102315785777322 https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0V2BmXZ11r74NBVg3bXBssKpSQCAFANgR217Ff3fY6Yu8EMbwCCwWcaJizoA6UcPLl&id=102315785777322 https://fb.watch/g6yYYswwmb/

As of now, the merchants of 12-Kasipagan are in the early stages of production and quality control. They consist of six start-ups: OOTieDye, Lolliloomps, Indie Ocean Co., POV, Beverage Joe, and RelEVENT. In that same order, each offers tie-dyed goods, lumpia desserts, customized t-shirts, tote bags, refreshments, and events management services. They will be up for sale and/or made available to the student body at the BE track’s Business Fair to be held on November 15 to 17.

Launch dates vary amongst the companies. POV’s Production Manager Jasna Seguban says that they’re to start pre-orders a week or two before the fair, whereas Erielle Arceo, the CEO of OOTieDye, has stated that their wares will be made available for purchase from as early as October 18. Both are united in the wish of garnering much love and support from the UPIS community. “We hope that our customers will enjoy POV bags as much as we, the creators, enjoyed turning our product ideas into reality,” said Seguban.

With preparations drawing to a close, and advertising alongside marketing looming ever nearer, it’s important to acknowledge the students’ immense efforts in paving the way, through perennially rocky terrain, for their businesses’ fruition.

According to Arceo, there is no doubt that the pandemic has closed many doors for new businesses. She explains that it’s done away with the possibility of selling their products in person and has posed much difficulty in shooting promotional material.

Notwithstanding, she keeps an optimistic outlook on the situation and believes that certain aspects are preferable and even conducive to advancement in their business. A certain advantage is that rather than having to open up a physical store, they need only to utilize delivery services. And due to the undeniable rise of social media users in recent years, their online presence has led to greater customer engagement—widening reach with their target demographic.

On the other hand, Seguban has admitted that her group struggled considerably with starting a business in the midst of a pandemic. Putting herself in the shoes of her customers, she has shared that she would prefer a physical store so as to properly inspect the products herself.

She is hoping that a smoother flow of production as well as greater ease in communication will ensue with the limited face-to-face mode of learning. For Seguban, up close and personal is more desirable than functioning remotely when it comes to talking to her team or any customers. Further stressing the importance of communication, she relates that, "Ideas would not become a reality if not communicated, and in turn, opportunities would be inhibited.”

For both interviewees, their time in the BE track has been well-spent as it has provided them not just with skills that they can use later on in life, but also with experiences that they otherwise wouldn’t have gained had they gone a different path. They’ve learned how to manage their time and energy with greater discretion—to refrain from worrying about things over which they have no control. But they have also proven that perseverance can be the answer to many things, no matter how impossible the tasks may seem. Everyone should understand that behind every business are individuals who dedicate much of their time and effort in building it.

According to them, the business climate of UPIS appears to be very healthy—one with a generally supportive community of buyers, as well as a diverse range of products and sellers. It’s possessed of enough variety, they say, as to deter very intense competition. They also note that an overlap in themes or products is something they generally avoid.

Both commended their fellow entrepreneurs for how they sell not just for the mere sake of gaining money, but out of genuine concern for their customers as they recognize their potential to provide them with their needs. As entrepreneurs themselves, they never fail to consider their clientele in drawing up every plan. And while up to date with trends, they ensure to integrate their own twists to make them more personalized to their brand. Lastly, they are adamant about how affordability should come hand in hand with good quality.

Because of the gradual transition back to physical classes, both entrepreneurs are positive that small businesses will also return—that it is only a matter of time before more students begin selling to their classmates again once the situation has become the norm.

For any readers who plan on starting their own business, this article concludes with a few words of advice from Miss Arceo. She advises that even though you are determined to go all out with all your plans, taking care of yourself is just as important. "We are not robots that can operate tirelessly and with little maintenance. Care for yourself. Care for your peers. Our mood reflects on our work. Therefore, it is when we, the entrepreneurs, are healthy and happy that our business can also be healthy and thriving!" //by Andrea Almeda and Allana Dela Cruz

[giannaread]

The Ugly Princess…

It’s February 14, 1871 in veins, Fiesta. The ballroom my siblings and parents will be going to is in Miesta, Jolie. Jolie is a very rich country filled gorgeous magnificent Women. Every twenty years, the King and queen invites political leaders, Kings,queens, princesses, princes, all over the continent of Yurpie.The ball dance is on valentine’s day. My sisters, My brother, and my parents are going to the event. They are very excited for it, especially my sisters since they want to marry into the royal family of Jolie which will improve the relationship between the royal family of Jolie and My family, which according to my parents we will trade with Jolie more often which will make our country richer. My sisters are trying their dresses, twirling in them, giggling and are extremely happy. You may ask on why am I not trying on dresses with them, My siblings and parents say i’m “too ugly” to be in Miesta, let alone Jolie. They say the ballroom is filled with beautiful people and I will make the family “look bad.” I was devastated when they said this. It has been my dream to go since I was a very little girl and now I was denied to go by my family because supposedly I would be making the family “look bad.” My sisters and my brother showed off their beautiful outfits to me. I was clearly upset and told them to share their excitement somewhere else but they dismissed my feelings and told me to get over it. I have always been excluded from my family, my sisters bullied me, my brother beat me up before and got his friends to harass me when I was hiking, My parents treat me like a servant and ignore the constant abuse I face in the hands of my siblings. I feel like my family hates me because of the way that I look and it makes me sick! At 5:14 pm, my Family left to go to the ball so it was just me and the staff at home. I went to my room to look at the window and view the stars.

The stars and the moon are beautiful and calming. My servant calls for me to help her take out the trash and organize the fruit and vegetables for the market place tomorrow which I agreed to do. I was walking out at night, sweating taking out the trash and organizing the vegetables and fruit, I cleaned myself up and decided to take a long walk so I put a jacket on and walked out. While I was walking I saw some guy staring and me and kinda following me.

I turned around and asked if he needed anything. “He said” He didn’t need anything but I seemed lonely and low spirited. I told him we should sit in the bench and talk and the minute we sat, I told him everything. I cried intensely in him arms and told him about about my siblings, my parents, the ballroom, me being ugly. He comforted me and told me everything is going to be ok soon. I was relieved that someone finally listening to me, caring for me, and making me feel loved… He said that he was surprised that someone from the royal family can be so sweet. I smiled and laughed. we talked on the bench for hours and hours until the sun rose, we agreed to come back in the bench at 8:00 pm. We hugged before we left the place.

I walked into my castle as quickly as I can, I was so tired I was ready to flop myself onto my bed and be in a deeper sleep than sleeping beauty. I walked into the door and out of no where my mom comes out of no where and slaps me and starts screaming at me asking me where have I been. I Start screaming at her back telling her she’s and awful mom and one of my sisters (sister 1) launches at my neck with her hands attempting to choke me for disrespecting our mother. My brother punches me right in the face, Sister 2 pulls my hair and slaps me multiple times. I’m being attacked by all my siblings and My mom calls security of me because i’m too dangerous to be around despise the fact I didn’t put my hands on my siblings at all they all just started attacking me out of now where. The security guards pin me down to the floor and I was screaming how tired I am if this family, how everyone mistreats me and how i’m always excluded while crying. I was escorted to my room by the security guards. I just cried in my bed, crying till I sank in my bed. I woke up and decided I am done with this family and I pulled out all of my clothes in my closet, packed my jewelry, my art, my journals, and everything I needed to leave. I decided after I meet with the guy on the bench I would take the 10:30 train to the city of Mastla, I would sell my cheap jewelry, break my phone so they can’t track me down, work at a coffee shop and live in a shelter until I can afford a house or at least an apartment. As I was packing, one of my servants told me my family wants to talk to me. I went down the stairs to the diner room where all my family is. My mom told me that the prince of Jolie is interested in Sister one, he realized that I didn’t appear at the ball so he wants to talk to me to see how my sister is like. I was livid, no apology for how the way they treated me for all these years, or the fact my siblings beat me up yesterday. They only wanted me to make them look good to the royal family of Joile. I told them to go F themself and left the diner room. I got all my stuff but I couldn’t leave just yet considering My parents told the servants and security guards not to let me leave until the prince of Jolie came. My room pretty up high so I dropped my suitcases on the ground got a rope and used it to get down. I ran out of that place so fast. I bashed to the bench. I waited for the guy I met at the bench. He came up to me and I told him what has happened and that i’m running away to the city in Mastla. He told me the country Mastla, Jorphine, is in is very poor and Mastla is extremely poor too. I told him I know but it’s all I can afford at the moment. He told me he lives in Mastla and he has a very small house in Mastla and we could live in there together and I agreed. We hoped on the train together talking and hugging each other until we made it to Mastla.

We entered his place and the outside was made of light yellow bricks and the inside was pretty small. The guy name on the bench is named Nick. Me and Nick told me that he is in-love with me and we eventually got married. Five years has passed and my family is seems to be doing very well, at least by just watching the news. Sister 1 married into the family of Jolie and has four children. My brother is getting ready to be the king of Fiesta, I have no idea what sister 2 is doing and my parents are healthy and in well shape. I have two daughters (5f and 3f) I am pregnant with my third child. My husband has been working really hard. I stay in my house all day and homeschool my kids, not because I want to but the law for all royal families in the continent of Yurpie is if anyone apart of the royal family leaves without the permission of its parents must face punishment of whatever the royal family chooses, knowing my family, they will pick the worse punishment for me and my family. My husband came to me and told me he got a job in veins, Fiesta and there is a job opportunity waiting for me has well.Except for Sister 1, all of my family lives in Veins, If I get caught, I am going to be in big trouble but the job opportunity can change our lives. We can finally leave Jorphine and get out of poverty and move to a better area. My kids can get better education, live in a better house and with our jobs, never miss a single dinner again! So me and my husband are moving to Veins, Fiesta. It’s not like my family we see me. I’m not moving to the rich part of Veins, i’m moving to the common part. Sister 1 is in Miesta. once we make a good amount of money we are leaving Fiesta and moving to a different country. Today is the day I leave Mastla, Jorphine. and move to my home city, Veins…

None of the art in the story is mine, If you recognize the art please tell me. 

[celestiababie]

Valentine's Special | Jeong Jaehyun

Title: Valentine's Special

Pairings: idol!Jaehyun x idol!reader, Jaehyun x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, idol!au, suggestive, angst but barely any

Warnings: I'm not quite sure...comment if you think there's anything I should add

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: My favorite time of year to read is legitimately February because of all the amazing fics about Jaehyun. I've had this account for a while but I've never written anything for Jaehyun's birthday and I wanted to contribute. Happy birthday Jae! I hope all of my fellow Jaehyun lovers enjoy it. Please don't be a silent reader!

Four months, that's how long you've been dating Jeong Jaehyun. On paper, Jaehyun was the pinnacle of a perfect man and boyfriend. He was undoubtedly handsome, intelligent, humourous, caring, and somehow humble but, you were lucky enough to see sides of him that people rarely did, flaws included. Sometimes Jaehyun was too busy, and you'd have to remind him to eat. Sometimes he was clumsy, and you'd have to warn him to be careful. Sometimes he kept all of his stress and worries locked away for the sake of his idol image. Jaehyun was a man with his own set of flaws, but you wouldn't trade him for anyone else. Maybe it was too soon to call your feelings love, but you knew you were quickly falling more and more for Jaehyun.

It wasn't easy dating a popular idol. You came from a pretty small label, in a group that wasn't too popular. So netizens were beyond shocked when they learned NCT's Jaehyun was dating you. Hate was inevitable, though you and Jaehyun persevered. Jae always reassured you that you're all he ever wanted, that you're beautiful, that he enjoys being yours.

And you enjoyed being his. As difficult as things occasionally maybe, there's something about staring deep into his warm coffee-colored eyes that made all your worries melt away. Something in the way his skin radiated as the sun rose and light crept its way through your window. There's nothing like moments shared with Jaehyun.

"Stop staring and tell me what you want to do for your birthday!" You shyly averted your gaze to find something more fascinating in your room. Despite being an idol in a group of five, you were fortunate enough to get your own space. The corners of your lips curled up in a smile as you recalled fumbling with Jaehyun in the dark on the way to your room, him knocking over the lamp in your living room, waking up each of your members.

A sudden weight on top of you pulls you out of your reminiscing, a breathy chuckle fleeing from your lips as you aimlessly try to push Jae off of you. It was no use; his workout regimen added a few pounds of muscle. He groaned and burrowed his face in the crook of your neck.

" I already told you. All I want is to do nothing all day and spend time with you. I don't mind," he mumbled against your skin. Your face scrunched as you felt his lip move with each word against your sensitive skin. With all your might, you rolled the two of you over until you were on top of him.

"This is my first time celebrating your birthday AND Valentine's day. We can do nothing next year, promise." You ended your words with a pout, hoping it would sway him, but his focus wasn't on that. A grin broke out on his face before he gently pulled you down closer to let his lips press against yours.

"Next year, huh? You want there to be a next year?" You could hear his deep and husky voice ooze with cockiness.

Pulling away from the kiss, you stare down at him with sincere eyes, " of course, why wouldn't I? I love-" Your eyes widen tremendously before the infamous three-word phase can finish. Jaehyun stares back at you with an unreadable expression, staring into nothing for a considerable amount of time that has you anxious. Four months isn't that long. Did he think it was too soon? Was it too soon? You hadn't meant to let the words slip out of your mouth, but you couldn't deny the truth the unfinished sentence had.

"Do you love me?" As much as you wished Jaehyun would snap out of his daze, now you were hoping he'd go back, his question ringing in your ears.

You did. But it was too soon, right? You didn't want to scare him off with the seriousness of an I love you so you did what any clueless and borderline dumb person would do; you pretended like it didn't happen.

" We should get ready! Maybe we can walk around a park? And get dinner? Or go to a dog cafe- you like dogs- I like dogs- it'll be great!" You frantically moved off of Jaehyun, his eyes watching you like a hawk as you began to tear your closet apart in hopes of finding an outfit.

" Y/n-" he called out.

" I found this dog cafe a week ago, and I forgot to tell you, but I didn't want to go without you." You kept your back turned away from him, too embarrassed to face him and his stupidly perfect face.

"Because you love me?" He probed once more, your emotions too high-strung to hear the smile in his voice.

You took a deep breath and finally mustered up the courage to turn around to face him. You brushed off the amused look he had on his face.

"N-no, because it would be rude of me not to bring you along as a fellow dog lover."

"So you don't love me?" Jaehyun cocked an eyebrow at you with a sly smirk as he sat up from the bed and made steps towards you. The beating of your heart amplified with each footstep, the sound resonating through your ears. Your muscles relax as his warm hands slide up your waist.

Jaehyun watched you with soft eyes as you avoided his eyes at all cost. He didn't know what was going through your head exactly, but he liked to think he knew you well enough to have an idea. Jaehyun cracked a small smile as he let go of your waist to cup the sides of your face. Leaning forward, he captured your soft lips with his, kissing you with an underlying emotion present. Your heart swelled with passion, your hands quickly reaching up to wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

Jae's lips pulled away from you, "I know what I want for my birthday."

"Hm?" You hummed out in a post-kiss trance, drunk off of Jaehyun's lips.

"Say it."

Your arms unraveled from his neck as you pulled away from Jaehyun. Your eyes searched his momentarily, making sure he was serious. There wasn't a single trace of uncertainty in Jaehyun's eyes. Instead, you noticed a hopefulness residing in those rich pools of chocolate. Jaehyun bit down on his bottom lip in anticipation as he watched you take a deep inhale.

"I love you. A lot, Jae," you exhaled out, finally feeling a weight lifted off from your shoulders. Jaehyun broke out in a smile and quickly pulled you back into his arms, crashing his lips against yours once more. The passion he held in the kiss left you momentarily stunned, not expecting the sudden reaction. A small moan escaped from your lips once Jae sank his teeth into your bottom lip with just enough pressure. Your fingers trailed up his shirt before bunching the fabric in your grasp. So lost in the moment with Jaehyun, you mindlessly chased after his lips with a subtle whine as he pulled away.

"I love you too, Y/n."

As you open your eyes, your eyes meet the endearing sight of Jae looking down at you with nothing but pure affection in his eyes. Jaehyun loves you. He found himself falling more and more for your charming personality ever since he met you backstage at Music Bank when both of your groups were promoting. You were now a constant in his life, someone he couldn't imagine without in his life. Four months wasn't a long time, but it was long enough to know how much he loved you and cared about you.

"You should have just said that then! I was about to have a heart attack over here," you teased, your hand reaching up to push his shoulder.

Jaehyun let out his infamous hearty chuckle and placed his hands to rest on your waist as he leaned down to press soft kisses along your neckline. You bit your lip to keep a smile from creeping up on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up for you."

"Jae...it's your birthday, not mine." You breathed out as he sucked on your sweet spot.

Jaehyun guided you back to the bed, pushing you down before climbing on top of you. He held himself up by placing his hands on either side of your face. He leaned down and kissed up your neck until he reached your ear.

Your breath hitched as you felt his whispers fan against your ear.

"But it is Valentine's day, baby."

Don't be a silent reader! And happy birthday to our Valentine's boy ❤

[starstruckkittensweets]

Valentine’s Day 2022 HCs

So for Valentine’s Day this year, instead of doing a fic because I didn’t have enough time to write it, I decided to write a few headcanons involving my 4 favorite boys from AoT! These are mostly SFW with a few slight NSFW ones sprinkled in, so 18+ only please! (Minors please DNI) I hope you enjoy reading! 

Warnings: 18+ only (minors please DNI), slight NSFW content, mostly fluff but be warned for some spiciness! 

Levi Ackerman 

You think he’d forget? Just because he hasn’t mentioned it in the weeks prior? He may not be an open romantic, but that doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. He knows exactly what this holiday means for you, and he’s more than ready to spend it with you, doing whatever your heart desires. 

He leaves you a note on the pillow beside you, along with a small rose with bright red petals. A promise to be home early tonight, so the two of you can spend your special night together; you smile when you see his elegant signature scrawled on the bottom of the paper. 

The day drags on and on, it feels as though your shift will never end. Hanji and Nanaba snicker to themselves (as though they aren’t waiting patiently for their own shifts to end so they can meet with their own partners). Petra’s the only one who tries to console you, but unfortunately it doesn’t do much. All you can think about is him, and what he has planned for you once you get home. 

You find out soon enough: after your shift, you’re walking into your home and kicking off your shoes...and Levi’s already bustling around in the kitchen, placing the final touches on dinner. He’s made your favorite, you realize with a blush. 

You give him a kiss on the cheek and join him at once. You’ve always said how good he is in the kitchen, and for the first time he actually starts to believe you. With every compliment and hum, as you savor each and every bite of your meal. Levi’s ears turn a bright pink color as he watches you enjoy every last morsel. Not bad, he admits to himself. 

The night is still young, of course. After dinner and a romantic bath for two (accompanied by a few candles to set the mood), the two of you huddle up on the couch to watch a few of your favorite movies. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he likes watching mindless romance movies once in a while. They make you smile, so they must be alright. (Besides, he likes the way you snuggle into his side throughout the movie.) 

He’s not one for fancy dinners or extravagant cards and presents...but that’s alright with you. You’ll happily trade all the rose petals in the world for a few more hugs and kisses from him; you’ll give up a thousand expensive dates with a smile, just for one more mindless movie night on the couch in your apartment. 

Neither of you say much during the movie, apart from the occasional comment about the plot or the actors at hand. Every brush of his fingers is a promise to keep you close, every gentle kiss whispers I love you. You’ve spent years with this man at this point, you know how he works by now. 

His touch is soft, gentle against your upper arm. You’re starting to doze off, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Silently, he throws the blanket over your lap and reclines against the couch, offering his body as a pillow. You smile at him, too tired to say how much you love him, so you simply press a kiss to his cheek instead. 

A soft smile, a kiss to your forehead, and suddenly you’re asleep in his arms, as his soft breaths lull you into a dreamless slumber, and his arms tighten around your body, keeping you safe from the rest of the world. 

Erwin Smith 

An honest gentleman through and through, the ideal lover (and soon to be husband, as the ring on your finger proclaims). He’s absolutely perfect, as he always is; not an expert by any means, but it’s the thought and affection that counts in the end. 

He takes the day off from work to be with you. You know how important his job is to him, how he spends hours and hours toiling away at the office, often not coming home until well after midnight. But he understands his priorities when it comes to important dates, and he knows to give you his full attention for the entire day, just as he expects you to do the same. (And you do; you end up taking the day off from work, as well!) 

A romantic walk around town, with his hand clasped in yours, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He’s dressed handsomely for your stroll, his blue eyes bright and beautiful as he offers a soft smile your way. 

He treats you to dinner at a comfortable restaurant, a little classy but not too much that you’re uncomfortable. You’ve accompanied him to stuffy suit-and-tie events before, and neither of you care for the atmosphere all that much. Nevertheless, you enjoy dressing up every once in a while. 

Erwin’s always been the perfect gentleman (even if he was a little airheaded in the beginning of your relationship). But with a few of these holidays under his belt, he’s come to know what to expect, and what to plan in order to ensure you have a satisfying end to your special day. 

A box of chocolates, a bouquet of your favorite flowers waiting for you at home. Rose petals leading you towards the bedroom, a gentle thumb brushing against the golden engagement ring on your finger. A pretty box he’s wrapped up himself, with a red bow tied on top. His cheeks are burning a bright shade of pink as he hands it to you, muttering that “It was Hanji’s idea,” as you take the top off. 

Of course, it had to be Hanji’s idea. 

It’s a set of lingerie, red and lacy, just the way he likes it. He’s no stranger to treating you every now and then... But it’s different tonight. And the worsening blush on his face only makes you smile even wider. 

“Thank you, my love,” you whisper, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Give me a moment to change, alright?” And the smile on his face sends your heart into a frenzy—definitely one of the best nights you’ve had with him so far. 

Eren Jaeger 

This poor boy doesn’t realize until it’s the day before or the day of (most likely the latter), and then it hits him and he immediately starts sweating. 

Jean rolls his eyes, Connie and Sasha start to make fun of him, and Armin does his best to console him. But all he can think about is you and what you’ll say when you realize he’s forgotten. 

It’s the oh shit moment that kicks him into gear: skipping class to buy you some flowers or chocolate or maybe even a nice piece of jewelry, or something along those lines, but of course he can’t find anything at the store, it’s literally Valentine’s Day. He’s stuck in limbo, wandering the empty aisles with a gloomy look on his face, shoulders hunched over as the bare shelves taunt him, cackling because he forgot about the date, just like the loser he is. 

And then he sees it: a little stuffed dog, with scruffy brown fur and a red ribbon tied around its neck, staring at him from the near-empty shelf at the end of the aisle. He’s gazing down at Eren, stupid pink tongue lolling out, ears perked forward like a real dog would. 

Eren thinks it’s ugly, just another thing in this store to taunt him...but he knows you’ll absolutely love it. So that’s why he leaves the store with the toy tucked under his arm, grinning stupidly up at him. 

He waits for you outside of your last class, just as the students begin pouring out of the room, in the same spot he always does. You greet him with a kiss on the cheek, arms soft around his neck, and suddenly his insides feel all warm and squishy and ugh. 

“Here you go,” he almost grumbles, shoving the ugly stuffed dog in your face. “I...I thought you’d like it...” 

God she’s going to hate me, I’m such an idiot for forgetting, why am I always such a fuck up, she deserves way better than my sorry ass— 

“Oh, he’s so cute!” 

He stares at you, mouth open and eyes blown wide, as you snuggle the stuffed dog close to your face, tracing the red ribbon along his neck. There’s a tag just below his collar, with the words With love, Eren scrawled beneath your name. You give the dog one last squeeze, smiling at the softness of its fur, before throwing your arms around Eren’s neck. 

“He’s adorable,” and you plant a soft kiss right on his heated cheek. “I love him!” 

He breathes a sigh of relief, he’s safe for now, he’s dodged the bullet this time. He throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close, suggesting, “How about we stop at that little mom and pops place you like for dinner?” And you eagerly nod, snuggling deeper into his arm. 

But as the night passes, he realizes you just won’t let that damn dog out of your sight. No matter where you place it, he feels as though it’s always watching him... Hell, it’s even staring at him creepily from its spot on your dresser, when he places a trail of kisses along your collarbone back in your dorm. But you don’t seem to mind; instead, you pull him in closer and kiss him fully on the lips, already moving to take your shirt off. 

Of course, you can’t help but laugh as Eren reaches over and turns the toy around, so that it’s facing the wall instead of your bed, before he leans in to kiss you once more. 

Moblit Berner 

A little nervous before the big day—definitely takes a shot before dinner (even if it’s not the healthiest thing to do). Just enough to take the edge off, even when he knows it won’t do any good in the end. 

Hanji told him not to worry, that you’re one of the sweetest people she’s ever met, extremely hard to disappoint, especially when it comes to Moblit. You’re already head over heels for him (at least, that’s what she says), so he shouldn’t be so scared. 

But he can’t help it. He just really likes you and he wants this date to be perfect, and hopefully you’ll want to spend more time with him and maybe this relationship won’t be a fling like the others and— 

Shit, you’re here! He can see you through the window of the little café, dressed in your finest with a soft smile on your face. He tugs nervously at his collar, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. And before he knows it, you’re making your way to the table, and he nearly trips over his own two feet to pull your chair out for you. 

“Such a gentleman,” you giggle, and his face goes scarlet. Such a nice laugh... 

It’s a little awkward at first, as most of your dates usually begin. The two of you always need a little time to warm up to each other, no matter how much time you spend together. You could meet up every day of the week and still need some time to get used to each other. You’re just...weird that way. But maybe that’s a good sign—a match made in heaven, right? 

He asks you about your day, listens to your stories from work and laughs at your silly jokes. He doesn’t say much, he prefers letting you take the lead in conversations. He’d much rather sit back and read your body language, noticing the little quirks that come and go as you speak. The twitch of your nose when you mention your schedule, the slight tremble of your hand when you tell him something exciting, the rhythmic pattern of your dress shoe tapping against the floor (signaling your nerves, but in a contained manner). At least you feel comfortable enough to share these parts of your life with him, right? 

“So,” you lean back and take a sip of your drink, “what about you?” 

“...Huh?” 

“You, silly! I wanna here about you! I know you mentioned working on a new portrait of your friend. How’s that coming along?” 

He’s genuinely shocked that you remember that; he told you that ages ago, and you still remember it?! Nevertheless, he finds himself answering you at once, with a light dusting of pink splashed across his cheeks. 

It’s a simple date in the end, over far too quickly for his liking, but he’s pleased with himself. He walks you home at night, pinkie brushing against yours as the two of you dance along the sidewalk, too nervous to commit but still yearning for some kind of contact. He passes a stand of roses for sale just before you reach your apartment, and he ends up buying a small bouquet to give to you just before you walk through the door. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you smile at him, batting your eyelashes, making him blush even more than he already is. He stutters out a mumbled “you’re welcome,” before something warm cuts him off—something warm and soft. 

The kiss is brief, but intoxicating nonetheless. A small nod from you encourages him to steal another, and another, before his arms are fitted snugly around your waist, and yours thrown around his neck to hold him close. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Moblit. Same time next week?” His cheeks burst with heat as he nods, before leaning in for one final kiss. 

[smoochkooks]

—chapter two: of peonies and broken promises

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: you are twenty-four, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous, just like it did eleven years ago.

previous || next 

Jungkook's apartment is an epitome of him.

Wherever you look, you spot a piece of him. A single, wooden shelf in the living room where he placed all his analog cameras, because he loves photography. The replica of Van Gogh's Starry night hanging just above the navy blue couch, because he loves art. White walls of his bedroom decorated with movie posters; among them the newest addition to the collection: French Parasite poster you remember him buying recently. He traded stupid amount of money for it and you'd scold him for doing so if you didn’t know how much he enjoys cinematography.

Staring at this back as he makes coffee, you almost forget why you came her in first place. It's trivial: the latest software update on your laptop made it work more sluggish for some unknown to you reason. Jungkook has always been good with technology (hence his degree in digital art), helping you fix things on your laptop whenever the issue isn’t too complicated for him to deal with it on his own.

You feel a little embarrassed, asking him for help again (as if he wasn’t installing a new antivirus software for you a few weeks ago) but Jungkook beat you to it, assuring you it was absolutely fine before you could recite a round of apologies upon entering his apartment.  

It’s just the way he is – the kindest, most selfless person you have ever met. Helping others seems to be etched into his brain for good.

“Here you go,” he says, placing a cup coffee in front of you. “I still haven’t quite figured out how the coffee machine works so I hope it doesn’t taste like shit.”  

You smile, wrapping your fingers around the cup. Jungkook is a tea person, something he most definitely took after his mother, who has a separate cabinet in the kitchen filled with various kinds of tea. That’s why it’s so funny to you that somehow he insisted on buying a ridiculously expensive coffee machine a few months ago when he moved into his new apartment.  

You wish you could focus on the delicate scent of his blueberry tea. You wish you could let yourself be overwhelmed by the aroma of your freshly made coffee. Anything.  

Instead, all you can process is the intense, nauseous smell of the peonies standing right before you.  

They’re definitely new, wrapped up prettily and ready to be gifted to someone special. Jungkook notices your lingering gaze, and clears his throat.  

“Soojin's coming later today. They’re her favourite.”  

He didn’t need to give any explanation to you. It’s his life, his girlfriend, his plans, her favourite flowers, her perfect boyfriend. You’re just you. Yet for some unknown to you reason, he felt and urge to mention it anyway.

“I didn’t peg you for the gentleman type.” you say to break the awkward silence. It’s anything but true, so Jungkook snorts in response.

“Aish, I always give you a single red rose for your birthday, Valentine’s Day and Women's day as well! And we know each other for eighteen years!” he reasons, somewhat defensive.  

You force yourself to grin. “I know, I know. I was just fucking with you,” He huffs and takes a sip of his tea. As soon as he does that, he regrets it, muttering “Shit, it’s hot.” under his breath. “Soojin's lucky to have you.” you add.

Despite coming off as a confident person on daily basis, Jungkook gets insecure too.  

You remember vividly the look in his eyes when he told you he didn’t deserve her. It was right at the beginning of their relationship, they were still getting to know each other and Jungkook couldn’t possibly understand why out of all the boys Soojin could date, she had chosen him. A digital art major who liked talking about cinematography and ate ramen at 2am in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.  

Back then, you wished he could see himself with your eyes. For you, he was far more attractive than any guy you saw on campus. For you, he was talented, hardworking, passionate. No doubt Soojin fell for him.  

But Jungkook was twenty-one back then. He lacked self-assurance he has now. It irritated you that he viewed Soojin as some sort of goddess who took pity on him.  Although a lot has changed since, he still could quite literally kiss the ground she walks on.  

You watch as a small tingle of blush covers the apples of his cheeks. Pink, just like the peonies standing before you. Pink, just like the flowers you hate so much.  

11 years ago

June was beautiful that year. You spent most of your time after school in Jungkook's garden, seated by the wooden table and doing your homework.  

His mother besides tea, loved planting flowers. And June was the month of peonies. There was so many of them, invading your senses with their sweet yet nauseous smell.  

Jungkook was scribbling something in his notebook. You doubted it was anything Math-related, judging by the quick and harsh strokes of his pen. ‘’Do you know Sana?” he asked out of the blue, startling you.  

“That new girl from Japan? What about her?”  

“Jimin says she has a crush on me.” he answered, his eyes still glued to the paper. You noticed he was sketching some anime character's angry face.

Your eyes involuntarily widened. “How does Jimin know that?”  

“Dunno. He told me he heard some girls talking about it in cafeteria the other day.” Finally, he dropped his pen and looked up. His brows were furrowed and he had a sour look on his face. “I don’t want her to have a crush on me.”  

At that, your heart started beating faster. You were just fourteen and yet already so stupidly in love with your best friend. “Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.  

You knew girls were checking out Jungkook here and there. He was a top athlete, had good grades and had grown at least ten centimeters taller over the year. He also had let his mother (and you) convince him to cut his hair shorter lately, getting rid of the emo fringe he was sporting for the past six months. Of course some pretty girl like Sana would have a crush on him.  

Somehow, Jungkook had always been oblivious to that, or at least you thought so. This was the first time he decided to talk to you about it.  

He sighed, looking away from you as if he was embarrassed all of a sudden. You could swear you saw his cheeks flush. “Because I don’t even like her. You’re the only girl I can stand being with.”  

Now it was your turn to blush. As best as you could, you tried to ignore the funny, giddy feeling in your chest. “You know you'll have to marry some girl one day, right?”  

“Then I’ll ask you to marry me,” Jungkook said and for the first time since he had started this conversation, he actually looked you in the eye. When he saw your shocked expression, he mumbled, “Maybe in like… ten years or something. Once we are out of college.”  

You snorted, nudging his side. Despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you regained your composure. “Do you think I will put up with your for that long?”  

“We know each other since we were six and you haven’t run away yet. Besides, I’m the only boy you aren’t scared to talk to.”  

“Hey! That’s–Maybe it’ll change in the future! Maybe–”

Jungkook ignored you and instead thrusted his pinky finger in your direction. You stopped speaking right away. Pinky promises held little significance yet for some reason, you felt like it was a serious situation. And if the determined look on your best friend's face was anything to go by, he thought the same.

“If we don’t find anyone worth giving our heart to by the time we are twenty-five, let’s get married. Promise?”  

You were astonished, to say the least, staring at this hand with wide eyes. You were only fourteen back then and to hear something like that from the boy you loved was like a teenage dream come true. You replied with blind devotion. Because there was only one, good answer to such question.

“Promise.”

You are twenty-four now, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous.  

[babbushka]

Change of Plan

Lawyer!Kylo x Reader

5k ; Mostly fluff. CW: Rivals/enemies, possessive behavior, name-calling (but in a playful way), NSFW (PIV, dirty talk, bathtub sex)

Available on AO3

                                              ------------------

Of all the days to cancel a date on, Valentine’s Day really had to be the worst.

Not that you had been dating that guy or anything – what did people consider dating these days anyway? – you’d only seen him a couple times. Work made things hard, made dating hard, and as much as you hated to admit it, part of you was really looking forward to spending the holiday with someone.

So when the text came through that he’s so sorry but something came up, any and all excitement you had had went straight down the toilet. 

Which is how you find yourself with your arms crossed over your chest, making your way down the sidewalk at three in the afternoon, doing some sort of walk of shame. Of course you were on the way to the meet-up spot when you got the text, wanting to be there early to compose yourself and get those butterflies in your stomach to calm the fuck down. If you didn’t care so much about punctuality, you might be in bed still right now, nursing your feelings with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

If you didn’t care so much, you might be in the safe warm comfort of your apartment, instead of being so exposed like this. The thought only becomes more prevalent in your mind when those butterflies turn to anchors in your stomach, your mood only sinking further, as a familiar black car pulls up to you. 

“Hey!” The window rolls down, and you hold your breath and will yourself not to look so obviously just-gotten-dumped-on-valentines-day-even-though-we-weren’t-even-dating.

“What the fuck do you want, Kylo?” You sigh, trying not to shiver. February in Manhattan wasn’t exceptionally freezing but you had definitely dressed for aesthetics over practicality – just another thing to make you feel like shit about it all.

Kylo, as ever, looks perfectly handsome. 

It’s infuriating.

“Get in the car.” He calls to you from the backseat, the driver going at a slow enough pace to match your speed.

You don’t stop walking, even though the offer is tempting. What was he even doing there in your part of town, didn’t he have the case to prepare for? Shaking your head, you wave him off.

“No, I – I want to walk.” You swallow around the sound of your voice breaking, hating the way your eyes are betraying you. Kylo hears it anyway, and you brace yourself for him to make fun of you for it, but the taunting teasing mocking jokes never come.

Instead, he rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, and says something to his driver because the car stops then, and Kylo opens the car door, standing outside it and gesturing for you to come in. You notice that he’s dressed exceptionally well; sporting one of his nicer suits, winter light from the sun reflecting off his shiny black Allen Edmonds.

“The forecast says rain, you’ll get soaked.” He argues, and you hate him, hate how he’s right.

Steeling yourself with a big deep breath – because you are not going to cry in front of Kylo fucking Ren – you make your way over to him, barely able to look him in the eye as you slide into the backseat of his car. Happily, Kylo sits himself nice and close to you, closes the door, and at once, the driver pulls back onto the main road, matching speed with the other vehicles.

Kylo opens his mouth, and you smack a hand over it before he can even take a breath in, leveling him with a dark glare and threatening, “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I cannot handle any criticism in this moment.”

“I wasn’t planning on criticizing you.” Kylo shakes his face a little to get your hand to fall off his mouth, and you aren’t so sure you believe him.

“Then what are you here for?”

“I’m taking you out.”

Blinking, you stare at him. Was this some kind of joke? But the more you look at him, the more it makes sense. Belatedly, you realize he must have been on his way to your house, because he was driving the same direction you were walking. The nice suit, the shined shoes, the freshly done hair…hell he had even trimmed up his goatee.

“Excuse me?” Is all you can ask, wondering what this is, what kind of angle he’s coming at you with. Because with Kylo, there’s always an angle.

He shrugs, scratches at a spot underneath his chin and casts a glance down to his lap, and you for a moment think he might be…nervous. Well, sincerity certainly wasn’t the angle you had been expecting.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and people tend to go out to celebrate.” Kylo is distracting with the way he talks, hands gesturing all over, masking a flash of vulnerability in his tone with sarcasm as he continues, “And I figured if you’re the only woman in New York City who isn’t out celebrating, you’re going to be a real fuckin’ bitch on Monday when we go to trial, so, here I am.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re terrible at being romantic?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest so loud that you’re sure he can hear it.

Cracking a wide grin, he taps the underside of your chin with his knuckles, before reaching forward to grab a big bouquet of red roses from the front passenger seat, careful not to disturb the petals as he pulls them over the center console and hands them to you.

“Look I even brought you flowers and everything – not to be romantic don’t go getting heads over heels or anything; some schmuck was giving them away for free down the road, I figured you’d like them better than them ending up in the garbage.” Kylo’s mouth runs faster than your mind can process it as you’re presented with the flowers, and if you hadn’t sworn to hate him for all eternity, you might have leaned in to kiss him right there.

“You figured right.” You smile, trying to remember when the last time anyone bought you flowers that wasn’t your secretary congratulating you on another case won, and fully accept the idea of a night out with Kylo by asking, “So, where are we going?”

With that go ahead, the driver speeds up a little more, makes a couple right turns. Kylo doesn’t tell you, just slings an arm around your shoulders and keeps his plan a secret. Those damned butterflies are back, and wouldn’t you know it they’re better than ever, and you can’t help but think that you’re lucky you were already dressed. It’s then that you evaluate what it is that you’re actually wearing.

On the date that never was, it was supposed to just be some wine tasting thing, so you had put on a beautiful dress that showed off all your favorite assets, as it were, and a pair of shoes that looked nice, but weren’t really meant for any sort of outdoor activity. Hoping beyond hope that Kylo wasn’t an outdoorsy sort of fella, you let yourself lean into him as the car zips through the Manhattan streets.

That hope slowly starts to die, once Central Park starts to come into view, and you realize that whatever he’s decided for his surprise is definitely not going to be conducive to these heels.

“Don’t worry, we’re not running or anything.” Kylo senses your mild stress, and with that, lies straight to you as the car slows down to a halt, and he grabs your hand and pulls you in a light jog into the park.

                                                 -----------------------

Central Park is, as it always tends to be, bustling with people. It’s not quite late enough in the day, or cold enough outside for it to be a more secluded spot – if anything in Manhattan ever is. You clutch the bouquet of roses to your chest, having forgotten to leave them in the car, as Kylo forgets to give you back your hand, the both of you chuckling and out of breath.

“Destination number one.” Kylo gestures grandly to a bench, when he stops jogging after a few minutes, once you’re deep inside Shakespeare Garden, making you give him a funny look.

“There’s more than one?” You ask, wondering just how involved this whole evening was going to be.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Kylo replies with a cheeky grin, before bringing you closer to the bench.

When he said this was the first destination, you had thought he was referring to the park, but as you come closer, you recognize this bench as the famed Whisper Bench, mostly because there’s a couple of people already trading secrets there. It’s made entirely out of concrete, twenty feet long and curled on each end.

Kylo waits politely until they leave, and then he’s leading you by the hand to one side of the bench, jogging over to the other end.

Like the people before you, you each bend over and cup your hands around your mouth.

“You want to go first?” You whisper, wondering if it’s really true, that your words will travel across the bench and reach him.

You don’t have to wonder though, not for very long anyway, because soon after his deep baritone is shooting across the bench, making your cheeks heat with something too close to affection for you to ignore it, especially when his big secret is, “You look very beautiful tonight.”

“You’re not half bad either.” You send back to him, making him grin with all of his crooked teeth.

There are people waiting for you to be finished, so Kylo comes back around the other side of the bench, and breaks out into a sprint the second he has a hold of your hand once more, making you yelp and laugh as he tugs you along to the next spot on his list.

                                                -----------------------

From 79th street, he brings you to 64th, where you’re faced with the charming little Chess & Checkers House. It’s in the children’s district, but thankfully there aren’t too many children around. The octagonal building is surrounded by twenty-four permanent tables that have inlaid boards.

“Put the flowers there so no one takes the table.” Kylo instructs, and you do as he says, along for the ride.

“We’re playing chess?” Your eyes widen happily, and Kylo immediately recoils in a cartoonish way, shaking his head and making you sigh with exasperation.

“No fucking way, you’d kick my ass in a heartbeat.” He says, making those butterflies go crazy once again. Kylo walks up to the window of the little building, “We’re playing something I have a more even playing field on – one checkers set please.”

“Oh you’re so on.” You grin, taking him up on his challenge.

You set up the table, giving him black and keeping red for yourself. After three games, it becomes incredibly evident very early on, that Kylo has no idea how to play checkers. Taunting him the entire time – because really, who doesn’t know how to play checkers? – you collect your wins easily and smugly.

It felt good to win, that’s the whole reason you became a lawyer in the first place after all, but it felt especially good to win against your arch rival. The fourth game ends when you eventually take over the board, using a few strategic moves that have him completely pissed off.

“You can’t just do that!” He protests, the vein in his neck jumping out, as you jump over three of his pieces and turn your piece into a queen for the second time in a row.

“Of course I can! Don’t be such a sore loser.” You roll your eyes, but he’s not having it.

“You’re a fucking cheater I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea.” Kylo takes all the pieces off the board and shoves them into the small box that they came in, angrily muttering to himself, “Making up rules as you go along and all this bullshit.”

“I won fair and square and you know it. Consider it a prologue for our case on Monday.” You rest your chin in your hand, watching with satisfaction as he scoffs and grumbles all the way back to the small octagonal house to return the pieces with the shame of losing four games in a row.

                                                -----------------------

Not far away at all down 65th street is the next stop on Kylo’s route, and you almost don’t believe that this is where he means to take you, when you stop your giggly jogging in front of the carousel. It’s getting pretty dark outside, between the rain forecast and the short winter days, which only lets the lights from inside the carousel shine brighter.

The golden inviting warmth of the lights blink and pulse along with music that plays, and standing there in line, with this big bouquet of roses, half of which have lost the majority of their petals just from all your running around, makes you feel like you’re in some kind of romcom.

Kylo lets you go in front of him, a hand on your waist as you take the big step up, immediately seeking out the perfect horse to claim as your own. You know that there’s two-seater options, but nothing beats the classic design of a galloping horse.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” You ask him once the carousel begins to spin, and he remains standing next to you, one hand on a golden pole to steady himself, the other resting gently on your thigh.

“And break one of these things? I don’t think so. The last thing I need is for the park to sue me.” He jokes, and you laugh at that, my my how would the tables have turned in that case.

“You made a good call, it’s chilly up here.” The movement of the carousel has the wind biting at your face, and at once your hands come across your chest to warm up the tops of your arms through your dress.

“I was wondering why the fuck you didn’t bring a coat.” Kylo immediately begins to fuss with you so you don’t go falling off the damn horse.

“I hadn’t planned on being outside today!” You defend yourself and your poor choice of attire as the carousel horse moves up and down, making it harder and harder for Kylo to get his hands on you, in turn making the two of you laugh.

“Yeah yeah, a likely story I’m sure – take my jacket.” He gives up trying to warm you up himself, and instead shucks off the thick wool jacket and drapes it around your shoulders.

It’s an intimate gesture, one that you’re not so sure how to take. You and Kylo hated one another, really loathed each other’s existence. Every day you thought about him and got a headache, and you knew he felt the same way. He had said as much, even. Kylo was a ruthless, terrible, awful, handsome, funny, charming…oh sonofabitch.

“But…then you’ll be cold.” You whisper, watching as the twinkling lights shine and shimmer in his big brown eyes, wondering when he got so close.

“So?” Kylo whispers back, holding a hand out for you to take when the carousel comes to a halt.

With his jacket around your shoulders, you don’t hesitate to take that hand, once again conveniently forgetting to let go of it even when both of your feet are firmly planted on the ground.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, once you’re both off the carousel and are walking a little less purposefully, just meandering down the park.

“I could go for some hot chocolate if there’s a place around.” You appreciate the question, finding that you don’t want the evening to end just yet. Not yet, not when you’re having so much fun.

Kylo must be thinking the very same, because his face lights up, and you can practically see the gears turning around and around in his head as he nods, “I know just the spot.”

                                                -----------------------

People in the park were so smart, you decide as a vendor hands you one of those eco-friendly paper cups filled nearly to the brim with piping hot cocoa. Big marshmallows float gently and melt steadily as you take a loud sip and thank the man while Kylo pays. How the hell Kylo knew this guy would be here, you don’t know, but knowing Kylo, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had the guy’s number on speed dial or something.

It’s quiet, in this little spot of the park. As it gets darker and colder, more people start to head back to their own homes. You know too that realistically, you will have to go back to your apartment as well, so you take small, deliberate sips of your cocoa, hoping to draw out the time left.

Kylo is quiet, sipping on his cocoa too. You wonder if he’s thinking all the same things, if he’s dragging it out so that he doesn’t have to say goodbye yet either. You wonder where his driver is, what that poor sap is doing while you and Kylo dance around each other like this.

He keeps stealing glances at you, and you keep pretending to ignore them. Yes the sun has officially gone down beyond the skyline, and yes you’re probably colder than you should be comfortable with, even with his jacket around your arms, comically too large for you. Yes the flowers have all but wilted completely from the wind and the running, and yes your feet are killing you.

But you don’t want it to end, not yet.

Never in a million years did you think you’d have so much fun with Kylo of all people – never in a million years did you think you’d be so glad to have a date cancel on you. Who the hell needed a wine tasting anyway? You knew what wines you liked and didn’t like. Even though you were both well into adulthood, being with Kylo tonight made you feel like a kid again, in that sense that you hadn’t had this kind of fun in a long time.

It is at that moment, that the sky opens up completely, and rain begins to fall in freezing cold sheets, all at once. Shouting out of surprise, the two of you are shocked, and it’s all you can do to not drop the cocoa and somehow freeze and burn yourself simultaneously.

“Shit, let’s get out of here!” Kylo breaks the silence by saying, and you agree at once, the two of you running running running through the trail, looking for a place to take some shelter.

In the dark, it’s hard to find such a place, so Kylo cuts through a shortcut path that he knows, that has you popping out on the other side of the park, through a big gate and onto the street. No more than a few seconds go by, before his car pulls up, and Kylo practically yanks the door open, pushing you in quickly and climbing in behind you.

The two of you exchange glances, soaked to the bone, and burst out laughing, shivering and trying to warm your hands by the heater. The car seems too small then, seems like there’s no space for the both of you. You’re acutely aware of how his leg is pressing up against your own, how his bicep nudges yours, how his face is practically right up against yours, as you both turn towards one another to get near the heater.

“What did you have in mind now?” You whisper, and you’re not sure, but you think that you can see him swallow nervously.

                                                -----------------------

When Kylo’s car pulls up outside the Baccarat, you really wish that the rain hadn’t ruined both of your outfits. No one seems to mind the two of you dripping on the floor of the lobby, as Kylo exudes all the confidence of New York City’s top prosecutor, but you certainly wish that you looked less like a drowned rat.

A key is slid across the counter, and into the elevators you and Kylo go, stealing little glances back and forth, looking away shyly when you’re caught. Eventually, the doors open again, and it’s a short walk to one of the most beautiful suites you’ve ever seen.

“You don’t get to say I’m not romantic ever again.” Kylo smirks, and you’d smack him for that if you weren’t still taking everything in.

Not only is the room beautiful just because it’s a luxury hotel, but Kylo must have gotten some sort of romance Valentine’s Day package, because the room is completely filled with tasteful and elegant décor.

On a silver bar cart that’s been wheeled into the sitting area of the room, there’s a bucket of champagne and crystal glasses. Gourmet chocolates in a satin box sit next to it, as does a small wrapped present that you’re dying to open at some point. Cashmere robes are laid out neatly on the massive bed, and large spherical rose bouquets are placed all over the surfaces, complete with rose petals leading to the bed from the room’s front door.

“Bubble bath?” Kylo offers, and you give him a knowing smile, grateful to both be warm, and to be naked with him.

His body never fails to make your eyes wander, you think. Between how hard he works and antagonizing you, you wonder when he ever has the time to work out, because surely he must work out. Kylo’s solid and strong in a way that makes you feel absolutely primal, and as he helps you step into the steaming water of the bathtub, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more safe.

“We have a five-course dinner coming.” Kylo murmurs softly as he settles in behind you, pulling your back to lean against his chest as he grazes his lips against your ear, “And breakfast in bed tomorrow, among other things.”  

“What would you have done if I had plans?” You ask as you chuckle and lean more fully against him, scooping up some of the thick frothy bubbles and blowing them into the air.

“I would have convinced you to ditch them.” Kylo says right away, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re so smug."

“I think I’ve earned it.”

You can’t argue with him on that, as much as you love arguing with him. Kylo kisses along your shoulder, up up up to the edge of your jaw, your cheek, making his way to your temple as your bodies soak in the hot water of the tub and you get the chance to simply relax and be together.

“You know, I almost had plans.” You bring up softly, the sting of rejection not hurting so badly anymore. In fact, you pretty much forgot about the date that never was, and you’re not so sure why you’re bringing it up now. Maybe because you can admit that this was a better Valentine’s Day than you could have ever hoped for.  

“I do know.” Kylo splashes his hand in the water for a little while, before dropping the unexpected admission of, “I asked him to cancel.”

Water sloshes over the side of the tub with the speed at which you turn to shoot your eyebrows up at him, mouth dropping open in surprise.

“What? Really? Why?” The demanding questions fall from your lips at once, the thoughts in your head coming to a screeching halt.

“I haven’t been planning this night for ages for some nobody in copyright law to come in and fuck it up.” Kylo has no hint of regret in his voice, and that catches you up. “Are you mad?”

Instead of answering him, you lean in and wrap your arms around his neck, your lips crashing onto his. It’s possessive, to a degree that you should be mad about, but…but you’re just not. In fact, you feel the complete opposite of mad, you feel relieved. Kylo wasn’t just taking you out on some pity date, he wasn’t just trying to get you to not be such a bitch on Monday, no he had planned this out.

For weeks, possibly even a month, to get a reservation like this, Kylo had planned to surprise you. It was incredibly sweet, so as you kiss him hard and slip your tongue into his mouth, as his hands smooth around your back, cradle the base of your skull, hold you close, no – no you’re not mad.

Needing to be closer to him, you straddle his lap, as the kisses turn deeper, more passionate. Kylo’s hand tangles through your hair and crushes you to him, soft groans and grunts spilling out of his throat. Chest heaving as you gulp down breaths, you gasp as your nipples brush against his pecs, and stiffen at the contact. Kylo swallows down the sound, nips at your lips, gets them swollen and kiss-bitten.

“Fuck me?” You ask breathlessly, and Kylo grins with all those teeth of his again, and you let him manhandle your legs to better support yourself on either side of his thick waist.

“Sit on my cock baby, let me do the hard work.” He encourages, and you moan as you do just that.

The hot water helps relax you, but you’re not nearly stretched enough to take him in one fell swoop, so you let your head tip back, mouth open as you moan and slide down onto his cock inch by inch, hands bracing on his chest, letting gravity help.

“Goddamn you’re big, Kylo.” You moan, and he puffs up with pride in a way that you regret feeding his ego, but not really.

“You can take it, you’ve done it before pretty thing.” He’s focused, focused on making you feel good, and he’s good at it.

Kylo lets one of his hands slip down to rub at your clit just enough to get your thighs trembling, legs spreading to sink further down onto his cock, pulling out the sweetest whines and moans out of you. He sits up against the wall of the tub, one hand on your hip holding you steady as he rubs his fingers against you under the water, and that’s a good thing because when he does finally bottom out inside of you, you slip on the floor of the tub a little.

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, leaning forward to press kisses all across your breasts, smothering praise into your flesh, “Good girl, just relax for me.”

It’s hard to relax when he feels so fucking good, and you tell him as much, making him chuckle. But then he’s planting his feet and lifting his hips, fucking his cock up into you, and you can’t tell him much of anything at all.

“Oh fuck,” You sigh happily, eyes rolling back into your head as you ride him, “Yes – yesyesyes Kylo -- !”

“Did you – fuck keep squeezing my cock baby – did you really fucking think you’d have a good time with whatever his name is?” Kylo asks darkly, possessively, as he thrusts into you with a rhythm that has you gripping the side of the tub, body rocking back and forth, covered in bubbles that stick and pop all over you.

“No,” You whine, “But dammit you haven’t spoken to me since last – oh! Oh yes, yes please Kylo.”

He’s managed to find your gspot like this, and fucks up against it with each thrust of his cock, the head pressing and rubbing against it back and forth and back and forth, making your eyes roll back into your head, your toes curling under the water.

“Just because I didn’t tell you – this pussy is so tight holy shit -- I was taking you out doesn’t mean I wasn’t planning on it.” Kylo says, and you don’t even know what the fuck he’s talking about anymore, especially as he latches his mouth to your throat and sucks bruises and marks into your flesh.

“Well – Ah! – well next time warn a fucking woman, would you?” You swat at his arm, your thighs working to bounce on his cock, sweat and steam curling around you, making your bodies stick to one another as the both of your hands slip and slide all over, wanting to touch and pinch and grab.

His cock spears through you in the most delicious way, your cunt throbs and pulses around it, the moans and gasps and sighs and grunts of pleasure sing through your bodies. You and Kylo don’t have sex often – but every time it’s like this, every time it makes you wonder how you could do anything else in the world, other than get fucked by him.

“If I – fuck baby, fuckfuckfuck – if I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” He grunts, and that’s all the warning that you get before he’s coming.

You can feel the hot load of it spreading through your body, and you whine, desperate to come too, digging your nails into the muscle of his shoulder as he fucks you through his own orgasm. You’re so close, just on the precipice of bliss, just a little longer, a little more – and then he’s dropping a hand to your clit once again, and that’s enough to send you over the edge.

“You’re such an asshole.” Resting your head on his chest, you press a kiss to the sweaty line between his pecs, and melt against him as your orgasm ripples and shakes through you.

Kylo being the most insufferable man on the planet, only tucks some of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to the top of your head. His hands trace patterns against your back under the water, and there’s a distinctly teasing sort of softness in his words, the kind where you can practically hear the smug smile in his voice, as he wishes you a, “Happy valentine’s day sweetheart.”

                                                -----------------------

                                                -----------------------

Tagging some pals! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag  @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions  @direnightshade  @reyloaddict55  @thembohux  @kylorenswhxre  @sunflowersinthesnow  @babayagakeanu  @safarigirlsp  @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks  @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief  @materialisthicc  @drake-bells-waxed-penis @dutchiepie @slut-for-harri  @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa 

[bebepac]

Pop’s 🌎 World

This is a very special Mia’s 🌎 World. It’s kind of a stand alone, as you could have not read the previous series and know what’s going on here.  It’s about a father’s love for his daughter.  But if you are curious to go on a binge read:

Book One:  Pop’s Place

Book Two: Mia’s World

I’m also participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 91 picked by  @ofpixelsandscribbles​ “I’m worried about you.” which will appear in bold. 

Original Post Date: 04/20/21 at 7:03PM EST.

The Book:  TRR (this is typically a crossover, but none of the crossover characters appear in this chapter) 

Pairing:  Mia x Jaiden  (TRR MC x M!OC)

Word Count: 1976

Warnings: Pops laying on all kinds of Daddy Fluff.  Brief mention of pregnancy complications, with no specific or graphic detail. 

Summary:  A glimpse into the past, present and future of Pops. We will be getting to know, the softer side of Pops Jones.

A/N: Writing is truly one of the ways that I have dealt with a lot of unsettling feelings I’ve had over the years, and this one is very cathartic for me.  I never had the best home life growing up.  Pops is the personification of the father figure I wish that I had growing up in those more formative years.  He does remind me a bit of my Grandfather, but he passed away when I was young.  So I write my Mia having the strong base that I wish I had.  And maybe some things would have turned out differently.  

A/N2:  I don’t own the rights to the poem “I Trust You’ll Treat Her Well”  by Dan Valentine which the words will be bold and italic throughout this episode.  I did modify a few words to make it representative to Mia and her family, as Mia does not have blue eyes and light brown hair.   

Song Inspiration for this Episode:  I Loved Her First by Heartland

I don’t own the rights to the music.  

Jaiden and Mia were staring at each other in awe as if they were in their own little private universe.

Tears welled in Pop's eyes as he watched Mia.

Pops never thought he was super sensitive until that moment. But seeing Mia, his baby girl, slow dance with Jaiden in her wedding dress, tore his heart to pieces, in a good way. Together Gloria and Pops had raised a beautiful, intelligent, strong young woman, who had found the love of her life.

Their very first dance together as husband and wife was breathtaking, and the newly married couple had nothing but smiles and a few tears for each other, and whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears.

Maybe not so sweet.... as whatever Mia had whispered caused Jaiden's cheeks and ears to flush a rosy pink, as he gently tugged at his collar a bit. 🍋🍋

"She picked a good one, Pops. He'll take care of her. He always has." Gloria whispered in Pops ear.

"I know. It doesn't make it easier. I loved her first."

Pops stood before them with a smile. Since they were done with the formal pictures, Pop's tie was completely gone, and the first few buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned. Pops was a simple man. But his feelings about that day were anything but simplistic. Pop's soul was a storm of emotions inside his heart: happy, melancholic, and bittersweet, because not only had he given his daughter away to be married, but he was also gaining a son, whom he loved dearly.

His eyes met with Mia's from across the room. She smiled at him, but as he refocused on her, he saw the little girl that loved to play dress up in Mommy's clothes and makeup.

Clearing his throat, Pops began to recite the poem that he picked for today. His confident voice was already shaking as he gazed across the room at his little MJ, his eyes already beginning to tear up.

"Dear World,

I bequeath to you today one little girl… in a crispy dress...with two brown eyes… and a happy  laugh that ripples all day long...and a flash of black hair that bounces in the sun  when she runs. I trust you'll treat her well."

He never knew the person who would completely change his whole entire world, his heart  was a little bouncing baby girl that weighed seven pounds and twelve ounces when she was born.

When he found out Gloria was pregnant, Kelvin wanted a boy. That's all he thought about. Someone to play ball with, and fish with. He got the shock of his life when he heard those three words. It's a girl.

Mia was born a week before Christmas.  Gloria went into labor while they were at a Christmas party neither one wanted to attend. Labor was a fitting excuse for the pair to leave early. The one time in Mia’s life she showed up early to benefit her parents. 

Gloria’s due date was Christmas Day.

When he first saw Mia's big brown inquisitive eyes, he knew she would be special. And Mia was, and she was the light of his world.

Mia’s first word was Pop.  The reason everyone called Kelvin “Pops”  was because of Mia.  When Mia started talking she said it repeatedly.  And it stuck with EVERYONE!

Mia was definitely a Daddy’s girl. 

Mia took her very first steps following behind Pops. He had walked into the kitchen to make Mia a snack, when he glanced up from the counter seeing her toddling towards him.

"Pops!" Mia exclaimed enthusiastically as she took her slow and deliberate steps towards him.

Pops immediately knelt, opening his arms smiling brightly at her.

"Come to Pop Pops."

Mia made it to his arms. He picked her up and spun her around planting kisses, and raspberries on her cheeks and tummy.

He wanted his little MJ to stop growing.  

Even though he loved Mia dearly, Pops thought about the possibility of them having another child.  He thought then having one of each would be perfect.

But sadly the lightning never struck again for them.  

Gloria sat on the side of the bed in tears.  

“We weren’t even trying when we got Mia, and now that we are…. Why isn’t it happening?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe we just got it perfect on the first try, my beautiful Morning Glory.”

“I know you want a boy Pops.”  

“I wanted our child Gloria.  Mia is our baby.   I wouldn’t trade a thousand little boys for our Mia.”

He wiped Gloria’s tears.

“I’m worried about you.”  

“I feel like I'm failing you.”

“You’re not, you gave me Mia.  She’s more than we could have ever asked for.”  

Mia had asked several times for a baby brother or sister.  Until a sweet family with a little dark haired boy moved next door.  

Daniel and Mia were inseparable.  

“Prim and proud she’ll wave her young and independent hand this morning and say “Good bye” and walk with little lady steps into the school house.”

It was  Pops that cried the first day of school when he waited with her at the bus stop.  They had always had a very special close relationship.

“For five full years now I’ve been her sage and Santa Claus and pal and playmate and father and friend...”

Mia had her “Mommy time” with Gloria but as Mia aged, she liked to fish with Pops.  She enjoyed being in the kitchen with him.   At age ten Mia called out her first order to Pops that day taking the first step of creating ‘their special language' they talked to each other to this very day in the kitchen. Mia sat at the table with her book watching the waitress in front of her, listening closely to the order.

She called out the order to Pops loud and proud.

Pops glanced down at the order that Ginny handed him, as Mia recited in her own language what the customers wanted.  He smiled at her, it made sense to her, and to him.  

“I’m on it, MJ!” His voice boisterous.  Little Mia learned the menu and started calling out all the orders to Pops. 

His mind drifted to Kyle.  Mia’s first serious boyfriend.  The one he had basically thought he was so proud of Mia for finding.  Kyle appeared to have it all.  He came from a good family, and he appeared like he loved Mia.  

Pops mentally took off his rose colored glasses and looked at his daughter’s relationship with him.  

Pops saw all the warning signs he had been oblivious to the first time around.  The sadness in his daughter’s eyes, she was trying to hide.  The crash dieting.  Mia wasn’t insecure before, but he now saw all the hints of it.  And he had been afraid to ask. Why did he not ask her what was wrong? When he had such a good relationship with his MJ.

“Today she’ll learn for the first time not all who smile at her are her friends….”

Mia found the courage in herself to end that relationship.

And with the ending of that relationship ended another one.  Daniel’s father was transferred to North Carolina.   Mia was devastated with her friend moving away.  But, it was very short lived, as Daniel’s father Jonathan let Pops know of a restaurant that was for sale in their area, that would give Pops the chance to branch out completely on his own and have his very own place.  

Pops took a chance and packed up his family and moved to North Carolina and bought that little restaurant that the community now fondly known as Pop’s Place. 

He remembered the first time he saw Mia interact with Jaiden.  The two were very friendly with each other talking and laughing.   Jason Brooks elbowed him.  

“There is something special blooming between those two.”

Pops laughed looking at the two of them again.

“I doubt it seriously.”  

Mia’s dance card was full, between Drake Walker, but Pops had his money on Liam Rys walking away with Mia’s heart.

“Twenty bucks says they’ll be dating before the end of summer.”  

“You’re on Brooks.”  

Pops lost that bet.  

Watching the love blossom between his daughter and Jaiden made him feel young again.  The love and the heartache.  

The sweet little gestures of love and understanding.

*^*^*^*^*^*^* Fast Forward a year after the wedding *^*^*^*^*^*

"I think I finally got it right now. Hi MJ, hey Jaiden. Can you all hear me now?”

"We can hear you now fine Hey Pops, where's Mom?"

"I'm here, I had to take dinner out of the oven."

They talked for a few minutes.

"MJ you look like the cat that ate the canary. What's going on?"

"So we didn't agree on how to do this.  We both wanted to tell you face to face but we didn't want to wait until Thanksgiving."

She looked at Jaiden.  He smiled nodding.

"Mom, Pops…..”

Pops saw the tears in Mia's eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She held up a single picture.

Both her parents screamed in joy.  

“It’s a boy!!!”  

“We wanted to tell you sooner.”  

Jaiden’s eyes filled with tears, as Mia leaned into him.  His grip tightened around her.

“We had to wait a little bit, because we had some complications. I had to take some time off work. But we’re okay now.  All three of us.”  

“This is the best news I’ve ever heard!!!!” Pops was laughing and crying at the same time. 

“You can't tell anyone yet. We’re telling Jaiden’s parents a little later on this evening.”

"We understand."

“So that means Pops, when we have the baby you’re getting on a plane and flying out here.  Mom’s not going to let you drive cross country.”

“It will be fun, we could rent an RV like we did that summer.”

“NO Pops. NO!!!”  Gloria and Mia exclaimed in unison.

“That summer was a nightmare, Jaiden.”

For MJ, when it was time, he got on that plane.  The simple man who lived between North and South Carolina his whole life, had raised a girl that loved adventure, and was living her life now in California as a fashion designer  with her successful architect husband, and about to give birth to their first child.  

Jaiden walked out of the delivery room with a proud smile on his face.  

“He’s here.  Six pounds and two ounces and twenty one inches long.  He’s perfect in every way.”

Jason went to hug his son.    

Later that evening, Pops and Gloria went in to see the baby.  

Mia had been in labor for over twelve hours, but you couldn’t tell it from the serene smile that was on her face, as she held their first child in her arms.  

Jaiden took the baby from her arms.

“Pops, meet your grandson.  His name is Kaiden…. Kaiden Riley Brooks.”

(Author’s Note: yeah…. I know, I said Riley Brooks would never exist in a place where my MC is not named Riley…. But you know…. I had to mix things up. Technically this is NOT your Riley Brooks.)

Pops held Kaiden in his arms.  The little baby opened his eyes to look at him. And in that moment Pop’s life was changed again by another little baby, this time, weighing six pounds  and two ounces.  

He kissed the top of his head gently rubbing Kaiden’s head full of dark brown curls.

“We finally got our boy Pops.”  Gloria whispered as Pops rocked Kaiden in his arms.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Fast Forward  *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Time flies as time always does.  Pops and Gloria were visiting during the first week of school.

Pops grip on Mia’s hand tightened as she held her youngest child Luna on her hip, watching little Kaiden walk down the driveway to the bus.

Mia softly gasped as Kaiden stopped, turning around to her, and  waved goodbye to her, and his little sister, and his Poppy; Mia was holding back tears.

“I know how you feel.”  

“Does it get easier Pops?”

“You’ll always see him….them the way you do now.  They will always be your babies. It’s how I see you. I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become Mia.”

“Thank you Pops.”

“So, world, I bequeath to you today, one little boy… in a little blue and gold uniform…. With two hazel eyes and a flash of curly brown hair that bounces in the sunlight when he runs.

I trust you’ll treat him well.”

Tags in the comments!!!!

[ferret-not-microwave]

Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 3).

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.

[Also, OMG I didn't think people would like these posts so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thaaaank you to all who gave the cutest hashtags, y'all are so encouraging!]

[Also, I'm sorry I just posted on R and Eponine today. :'(

Just have a lot on my mind. I'll write on JBM tomorrow, promise.]

Grantaire:

• He. Is. Not. Weak. Seriously, he could really do without those people who think he's a broken mess who loses absolutely every bit of self respect when he sees Enjolras. Just because Enj had shut him up with harsh words on like one occasion does not mean that he lets Enj or anyone walk all over him on a regular basis. He is NOT a doormat, not by a long shot.

• He could also REALLY do without those people with massive saviour complexes who swoop in to save him from the big, bad world. He accepts tons of help and love from the Amis, but will not accept any kind of pity service, damnit (and they know it). And it takes a lot of strength to plow through alcohol addiction to sobriety.

• He is pretty much a guardian angel in bars because of his history with addiction. He knows how much drink can a person take, and which drink they should avoid. With Bahorel, he hovers around the rest of them, snatching away glasses when the lightweights get too drunk, and replacing them with glasses of water. That he can box also comes handy. Sometimes. Heh.

• Not every point he says to oppose Enj is a cynical barb. And they don't always have screaming matches in the Musain. There have been many days of trading constructive criticism, because R has a lot of first-hand experience about the city. R usually knows the fine line between Enj getting combative and Enj getting hurt/frustrated, and has learnt not to say something so cynical that he crosses the line.

• Like everyone else, R is also learning. He is working on his prejudices, realises that some his past jokes were insensitive, sometimes even sexist or ableist, and actively corrects himself and others around him.

• Further, their relationship did not start with a dramatic makeout session mid-argument. Because both of them are on the way to being mature adults who know that aggressively displaying sexual tension is not the best way to start a relationship.

• It is not just Enj he's generally cynical to. He's cynical, that's it. And he does enjoy arguments with the others, where there's mutual exchange of knowledge, because he does not ever believe that the rest just parrot what Enj has to say. He has captured everyone's argument face in his sketchbook: Ferre waving his hands about, Courf's eyes widened mid-rant, Feuilly's eyes narrowed with a brief, brusque comment, Jehan's smiling like a cat who got the cream when their argument hits home, Bahorel thumping the desk in jovial agreement, Marius processing what he's hearing. He kinda likes Les Amis L'ABC too, not just the people there.

• While there are rough days when his self esteem runs sub-zero, there are days when he is super happy with himself. These are not exactly blink-and -miss either. The Amis cherishes his beaming smile when he defeats Ferre on Trivia Night, sings beautifully on Karaoke Night, paints an AMAZING picture of all the Amis in a protest and shows it off to all of them, cooks a meal which JBM raves about, and, on one memorable occasion, makes a V important point in a meeting that leaves Enj starry-eyed. There are things he hides from them because he's too shy and doubtful, but they are decreasing.

• There are days when he goes into a house-cleaning spree. Like the scrubbing tables-dusting-throwing out piles of trash-cleaning corners with q tips-kind of spree. Which leaves him so exhausted that he can't get out of bed the day after. So yeah, his place isn't always shabby.

Eponine:

• She is tough. She is blunt, and to the point. But she is not rude without reason, just to be edgy or something. And definitely doesn't throw around idle threats. Most of the Amis find her very pleasant, actually. She gives a small smile to everyone, cracks dry jokes, lobs scrunched-up balls of paper from across the room and fights with Courf for the caramel popcorn bucket. She doesn't yell to make a point, but speaks it aloud with a lazy drawl while fiddling with a rubber band ("Bull", she says, eloquently enough). To new people, she is just that shy and suspicious, so she doesn't really talk.

• The thing she wants the most is to feel safe. Hence she is often quiet, suspicious and moody. She feels really upset if people think she's horrible (or a "bitch", like she sometimes hears random people say about her) just because she cannot trust people enough to be all smiles and rainbows, even though she wants to be. She also feels really vulnerable, and is always scared that people wil leave her or hurt her once they know that she panics and cries a lot. She feels safe with the Amis, and many a times you'll find her as a sniffling burrito on someone's couch. THIS DOESN'T MEAN SHE'S WEAK, THIS MEANS SHE HAS A LOT OF SHIT GOING AND NEEDS RELEASE. -_-

• Her preference for dark clothes started because dark clothes seemed easier to maintain. She needed lesser amounts of detergent, and could stretch it out for longer before the inevitable laundry walk. She had actually asked Jehan for goth fashion tips to liven things up, and they had provided her optimal options (like dark lipstick). Still, she doesn't wear fishnets everyday, and just saves them for "special occasions".

• She is one of R's best friends. But no, she is not his personal babysitter. She doesn't go chasing everyone who she thinks has hurt him immediately, neither does she always haul him around when he's down in the dumps. She usually gives him sound advice, checks on him whenever she gets breaks between shifts, and if she cannot help, sends an Ami or two along.

• Her go-to way of showing disappointment in anyone is to send them a voice message stating exactly how they have fucked up (in an ice cold voice) and giving them the silent treatment until they fix things or apologize. Only once did she go nuclear on someone, no one wants to talk about it.

• Ep is a big sap. She does not really conceal her love of heart-shaped Valentine cards, pink roses and candles. Don't forget that she grew up in fair comfort tilll her preteen years, and she had exposure to much sappy media. While the Amis were surprised initially, she makes them take it in stride. She gets a strawberry cake every birthday, complete with pink balloons et al. (organised by Courf). She dreams of going to Disneyland.

• In the face of danger (men following her on the streets or something), her first response is flight, not fight. She knows that fighting can often make things worse, and cannot afford frequent trips to the ER. She can fight, though. She just doesn't want to until absolutely necessary, for self-preservation. She's brilliant at amateur first aid.

[itsmeevie01]

Before A Moment in Time

ok! this is a LOT of information, but i wanted to make it easier to understand whats going on in my head when i write over the next bit!

MASTERPOST

this is Before A Moment in Time. Enjoy!

Three years before A Moment in Time. One year after Hawkmoth appeared.

Marinette Dupain Cheng is sitting at her desk. Second row back left side. Making her way up the stairs is her friend Alya Césaire. The two girls have been practically inseparable for the last year.

Fuming one row down on the other side of the aisle is Chloé Bourgeoise. Her eyes are glued to where Marinette is smiling at Alya. Nino Lahiffe is sitting in front of Marinette. His headphones are on, and his hand is moving over a sheet of paper that has a music staff on it.

Adrien Agreste can be seen bounding up the stairs, his eyes alight with the joy of going to school, even a year after he started. Behind Marinette and Alya are Rose and Juleka. Across from them are Ivan and Nathaniel. Behind the boys are Alix and Kim, who are across from Mylene and Sabrina.

Max is sitting behind the two girls by himself. In the empty seat next to him, the tech genius has a computer running through a code that he is trying to double-check.

As their classmates greet each other during the first day of school, Madam Bustier can be seen enter into the room, one Lila Rossi walking behind her curiously.

As Bustier called the class to attention, Marinette shared one more smile with Alya before spinning around. When she was facing the front, the teen blinked.

Standing there was a girl who looked vaguely familiar. It took the teen a moment before she realized that this was Lila Rossi. This was the girl who had been sued by both Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. This was a gold digger that they had warned her about.

Chloé must have made the same connection because Marinette’s phone started to blow up.

 Mariii + Chlo

Chlo- OH HELL NO

Chlo- M this chit cannot sit with me

Chlo- Dad sued her over the summer

Chlo- MARINETE

Mariii- Chlo

Mariii- hey chill

Mariii- I got this. If you can sit with Alya.

Chlo- anything

Chlo- MY WONDERFUL NONCOFFEE DEALER KEEP ME AWAY FROM THE FUCKING DEVIL

Mariii- on it, queenie

 Marinette looked up as the bell rang. Alya gave her a concerned look. With a smile, the younger girl bumped her friend’s shoulder. “Hey, Als, since I’m class president, I think it would be best if I welcome the new girl. Could you go sit with Chloé today? I promise that we can go back to normal once we get her settled.” Alya flashed her friend a smile before giving the girl a side hug.

“of course, Mari! You have such a big heart!” the girls traded smiles before Alya packed her stuff up and moved to sit with the haughty blonde. The noirette saw her teacher give her an approving smile for diffusing the situation so easily, without conflict.

Inwardly, Marinette scoffed. Outwardly, the girl gave her teacher a glowing smile in return.

 Marinette truly tried to be nice to Lila. Really, she did. Early on, the girl had learned that being nice was a better route when interacting with people who she didn’t know. Even if it was just a small smile, the noirette had always found success from kindness.

Lila was a sweet girl who had batted her eyes at her and given Marinette a small smile. The two had spent the first period of school passing notes and getting to know each other.

In all honesty, Marinette had no idea why the Italian girl next to her was branded a manipulative liar in her world. Then, during the break, Marinette saw what was going on.

When the rest of the class gathered to introduce themselves, Lila panicked. Then, Lila shifted her posture just slightly. She smiled a blinding smile that stood out to Marinette as obviously fake. She started interacting with the class, sickly sweet and subtly guiding them to beliefs.

Shaking her head, Marinette turned away. She had time during her break to call a certain someone. She needed more answers.

 “Clara! Hey… do you have a moment?” through the phone, Clara Nightingale, giggled.

“Of course, Marinette! What is going on with my favorite little cousin? Is everything ok?” the young teen hesitated, before shaking her head.

“I need you to tell me more about Lila Rossi” the dark look that crossed the singer’s face confirmed many of Marinette’s worries.

 When she sat down next to Chloé in the hotel restaurant for lunch, a look of pure disgust was dancing on her face. “this girl has filled a level of malice that I have never heard of. Chloé, she has manipulated every person of interest under the sun who doesn’t have the common sense to not listen to her bull shit. Chlo…this girl is vile. Clara told me what they had to do to sue her. One of the requirements of Lila not going to prison for a long time was getting a psych eval. Chloé…this girl is only fifteen! This is insane...” Chloé raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Today it looked like you two were good friends. Or on the way there at least.” The noirette shook her head in disgust.

“she has some good traits, but as soon as she gets in front of the crowd…she abandons everything for power. I can't trust her, but it seems that she is under multiple restraining orders. I get the feeling that as long as we stay out of her webs, we should be fine. Jagged texted though. He said that Lila can be vicious if she is provoked.” Here, Marinette looked Chloé dead in the eye. “do not cause trouble. I don’t want you to have to go toe to toe with her, Chloé.”

 Six months later.

 Marinette is settled at her desk, the swivel chair reclined as she looked at the Blonde who was in her room, grinning.

“did she really ask you out?” Chloé’s excitement paired with her nosiness was making Marinette steadily turn Lady Tyche red. Turning back to her desk, Marinette tried to hide her flaming face.

“she asked me if I wanted to go out…like a date…before my birthday.” The noirette tugged slightly on her hair. Her anxiety that had been manifesting more and more at school was not helping her now. “I told Aurore yes. We haven’t set a date yet, but it’ll be soon.” Chloé raised an eyebrow.

“are you two going on your first date on Valentine’s day? Because Mari…I refuse to be best friends with someone so cliché.” The girl flamed a darker red if that was possible.

“I really like her Chlo. But…no. she asked about the 14th. I told her that I was going to spend time with my parents that day. Plus,” here, Marinette turned back to her friend with a Cheshire cat grin. “We,” She gestured between her best friend and herself, “have a standing date. we have for the last three years. Why would I break a pact we made when we were ten, over a girl I haven’t gone on one date with yet?” Chloé’s face broke into a matching grin.

“oh, hell yea. Then, I guess I could help you get ready for that first date of yours…” the friends broke down into giggles and started debating the merits of each of the outfits the young designer had in mind.

 That night on patrol, Lady Tyche alighted on the roof of one of the local lycées.

Her blonde hair whipped in the wind that had been howling all afternoon. Across the streets, the spotted hero was able to see a pair of blue luminous eyes. Using her yoyo to pull herself over the street, the girl smiled at the younger miraculous wielder.

When her red boots hit the roof, Apate handed the girl an unmarked bag. Inside was a pastry and a hot chocolate. Both girls knew they were in for a long night.

 Apate stood noiselessly and moved to the edge of the roof. As she stood there, profiled against the ridgeline, Lady Tyche smiled to herself. Her partner could be as vicious as she wanted when they were fighting Akumas, but the girl who stood in front of her was very kind.

The Cat vigilante, as she insisted she was no hero, had a pair of ears on her head.

They were flicking to and fro while she listened to the night below. Her hands were resting on her hips, one hand toying with the baton that was usually kept in a holster on her leg. The girl’s other hand was fiddling with a ring she had slid off her finger. The skintight black pants blended into the night. The black top she was wearing also seemed to disappear when Lady Tyche wasn’t looking for her partner.

Even now, with Apate being backlit by the city lights around them, the Tyche was the more visible of the two.

“She’s coming.” Apate’s voice broke her partner out of her thoughts. “Let’s hope tonight goes the way we want it to. Otherwise, we could be royally screwed.” The Hero nodded in agreement.

 “I trust Alya. She has been a good fit for Trixx so far.” Apate hmmed in response.

“I fear that our…favorite Italian…may be too close to her. I don’t our fox’s head full of lies and manipulations if I can help it at all.” Lady Tyche winced. She had heard all about Lila’s renewed attack on the allegiances of the class that her crush was in. the past few weeks had not been pretty.

  “No! That’s…you told Lila that I was going to be your first partner! Why did you lie to both me and your best friend! Everyone knows that Lady Tyche can’t do this alone anymore! She NEEDS Miss Vixen!” Lady Tyche closed her eyes and Alya’s rant ended with a yell. The anger simmering on the reporter’s face was worrying the hero.

“Alya. I have not told anyone about you. A few people have seen you training and on patrols. You ran the ‘exclusive’,” the disdain in Lady Tyche’s voice had Alya wincing. “but no one has confirmed anything. There is a good reason. The hope,” here, the Blonde teen’s voice turned cutting, “was that you could work in the shadows. There is only one visible member of this team, but I have never been alone. Tonight, and this attitude. Well, Alya, it has proven that you are not ready to be a holder of the miracle stones.”

The ladybug holder looked over to the roof next to where she and the trainee had been standing. There, in the shadows, were a pair of blue eyes. “go ahead, Apate. Wipe her memory of all of this.”

Seven months after Alya’s Miraculous is taken away. Two years after Hawkmoth started. Two years before A Moment in Time.

Aurore smiled at the girl holding her hand.

The two were walking home from their first day of Lycée. Aurore’s blonde hair fell around her shoulders as she turned to look at Marinette.

The 14-year-old, a certified genius, was glowing at the excitement that their first day of school had brought. Although she no longer was friends with Alya, there were no real hard feelings. The rift between the former classmates had made it easier to integrate Marinette and Aurore’s social circles. Claude, Allen, Chloé, Aurore, Mireille, Nino, Kim, Kagami, Felix.

Their group was full of laughter and life. They spent most of their weekends together, even over the summer. To everyone else, the group was the picture-perfect group of teens. Inseparable for life. Aurore had loved it for so long, had loved watching her girlfriend grow. Tonight, however, she had a feeling that the last half-year was going to be left in the past.

She and Marinette needed to have a talk.

 Chloé held her best friend as the girl cried.

The two had been sitting on the floor of the heiress’s hotel suit for the last hour and a half. When the small girl had shown up, wearing an old pair of Chloé’s sweats that had disappeared years ago, sniffling into the sleeves of the hoodie she was swamped in, the older girl’s big sister senses had gone off.

Now, as her friend started to calm down, Chloé shoved a pile of clothes at her friend.

“put these on, we are leaving.” Marinette glanced at her friend in confusion, before taking the clothes and slowly changing into the skinny jeans and loose grey top. A moment later, a green corduroy jacket was being flung at her by the blonde 16-year-old who had changed as well.

Quickly catching the jacket and sliding on the matching converse that Chloé had given her, Marinette stood to join her friend. Chloé picked up her purse and looked over the two.

While she had given her best friend a simple outfit that be comfortable for the train ride that her friend didn’t know was coming, Chloé had taken a minute longer before deciding to match her friend. Her jeans were light wash as opposed to dark, and she wore a fitted white t-shirt with a cartoon spider hiding in a red chrysanthemum. The red corduroy jacket was the same color as both the embroidery and her own red converse.

“Let's go, Minette. We are going to the country house. You can truly cry there. Horses await.”

 After Marinette and Aurore broke it off, the friends drifted apart. Kagami, Felix, Nino, and Kim refused to let the others blame the split on Marinette. Mireille, Claude, and Allen claimed that Marinette was more likely to be the cause. They couldn’t imagine Aurore doing anything to hurt the teen.

Chloé, Aurore, and Marinette kept their mouths shut over the whole debacle.

Chloé hadn’t heard the whole story, but she knew that Aurore had hurt her friend, and it had led to a discussion that led to the girls both walking away in tears.

It would only be years later that the girls would reveal that they had broken up because of the confusion around their secret identities.

 A week after the fateful breakup, Adrien Agreste pulled Marinette off to the side after class.

“Adrien are you ok?” the girl asked, confused. while usually, the two didn’t interact, Marinette had noticed that all day Adrien had been pale and shaking.

“I need help Marinette. Usually, I would go to Chloé, but last time she almost got Akumatized and I just…I need help. Please.”

“what’s up?” he glanced over his shoulder, to where a group of their classmates stood gathered around Lila.

“Not here, she can't know.” Marinette blinked in shock before grabbing the model lightly on the arm. After glancing at him with a raised eyebrow, silently asking if it was ok to hold onto his arm, she took off through the halls.

 By the time the two had made it to the home of one Gina Dupain just outside of what Marinette knew to be Hawkmoths reach, the blonde was bewildered. “you know the city so well. How?” she giggled slightly at the older boy before leading him to the kitchen and dropping her bag on one of the breakfast seats.

“I get stir crazy and spend a lot of my time exploring the city. Alix and I go and do Graffiti on the weekends sometimes. That means I’m pretty good at evading sight when I don’t want to be seen.” While her statements were technically true, Marinette had also left out a great deal of information in her response.

She had spent most of her time exploring the city as Apate. She grew up on the streets and would forever feel comfortable slipping into the shadows. She did go out with Alix to do graffiti, but the two also spent a good amount of time jumping into burrows to fix world-ending events.

“now, Adrien, what is going on? If it's bad enough that you don’t want Chloé upset, I expect it to be worth the trip out of the Akuma line.” Adrien nodded nervously, before going into an explanation of what had been happening in the Agreste family home.

 Three years into Hawkmoth’s reign. Marinette’s 2nd year at Lycée

 Adrien spent as much time as possible with Chloe and Marinette.

He had shown up more than once during their girls’ nights. Now, he was expected to be there.

When they had left for the weekend, Adrien had disappeared from the Agreste Manor. When had reappeared in time to get in the car that Monday, he learned that the only person who had noticed he was gone was his bodyguard. The man had called him, before joining the teens on the outing.

While the friends were getting Adrien out from his father’s thumb, Marinette was launching her brand.

She had a discussion during the branding process because the symbol that she had chosen, a chrysanthemum, was incredibly complex. Her grandmother thought it was too much. Marinette had told the older woman that she was going to use the flower because that was the one with meaning to her. She spent three weeks fending off the woman, who sent her a different flower every day, until the girl told the woman that she wasn’t going to change her mind.

Her Grandmother, her Nona, had laughed and told her that she was very stubborn, but that this time it had worked in her favor. The teen had come home that evening to a leather Jacket lying on her bed, with her named arching over the back where a chrysanthemum was embroidered in full bloom.

At the same time that Marinette was officially launching her brand and Adrien was embracing his teen rebellion, Chloé was becoming an influencer on social media. On any day that she wasn’t spending time with her friends, the blonde was working to cultivate her social media image. At 17, she started to model on the side. When she was gone, her friends would get calls during every free moment she had.

Fourth-year of Hawkmoth's Reign. 

The three were friends with the other outcasts from their college class.

Kim and Nino were often seen with Marinette when she was out on a shopping spree or seeking inspiration. 

Alix and Marinette were close, and after she became guardian at 14, Marinette had given the Pinkett and crash course on the miraculous, since she had inherited one. The two would always be fond of jumping through time and space to face world-ending events.

Kagami had insisted that Adrien and his cousin Felix make up, and now the three were a force to be reckoned with. As they entered their last year of Lycée, the friends felt like they were on top of the world.

 There had been a project due that morning that Marinette had forgotten about until the night before.

She had been up all night and had gone through three different super coffees. She had been running late when she burst out the door of the apartment.

There was a mug of coffee that was clutched in her hands, and she wasn’t looking where she was going. The guy that she collided with looked how she felt.

While he was in a suit, they were both clutching coffee mugs that they had moved out of the way on instinct before throwing apologies over their shoulder and going on with their days.

Neither thought anything of it. They had other things to worry about.

Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain Cheng had no idea that their lives had changed permanently with that one interaction that had lasted less than a minute.

AND...3000+ words later, here we are! let me know if yall have any questions.

I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later so that I can start to build with other characters now. I had a lot of fun writing the backstory, and I have thrown Cannon out the window...obviously lol.

tag list!

@moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh  @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @laurcad123  @iamabrownfox @m0chick0furan

[blu-archer]

Disaster Day

There are probably going to be grammar mistakes, because I can’t proof read to save my life... But hopefully it’s not hectic

Anyway, this was requested.. I kind of got carried away a bit, but I hope it’s close to what you may have wanted!! 

Word count: 6691

SNZ - Allergies

‘Sickie’: Jungkook

Caretaker: VHope

like [mild] inducing I guess... it’s meant to be cute and like, familiar..?

Hybrid Universe

*Awkward Peace Signs* 

uhh yeah, thank you for support and please enjoy it..<3

****

Jungkook was exhausted.

To be fair, his day had been jam-packed full of lectures and dance activities, so it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise – if only that was the initial cause of his problems. No, despite his day of hard work his fatigue plagued him less due to the events of his schedule and more specifically to the day. His annual disaster day.

It had started when Park Areum had pranced up to one of his best friends in the food court that morning. Giving a shy smile before unloading a gift bag of chocolates and whipping a small bouquet of various bright flowers out from behind her back as she whispered a soft ‘happy valentines’. Jungkook had to force the urge to groan, not wanting to appear rude while Jaehyun politely accepted the gifts, shooting an apologetic glance towards the hybrid. And from there it had only gotten worse.

It was rather unfair. Jungkook loved flowers, they were beautiful, and they smelt sweet and pretty, but the love was clearly  not mutual. It hadn’t taken him long before the incessant itch clung to his sinuses, making paying attention to his classes increasingly difficult. All around him students traded cards and flowers with mirth, and he wanted to go home. Yugyeom had given him some of his own allergy medication, upping the dosage, but it was never truly effective for Jungkook. His hybrid genes just burnt off anything in his system before any real progress could be made. So, he was left to suffer.

It was hard to believe his day had taken such a turn for the worst, it had started off so well too. 6am he had been nudged awake by soft prodding and strokes along his sides. This had caused him to twist and muffle his giggles into Taehyung’s bare chest - only to realise that he had trapped himself in the infamous ‘iron cuddle grip’ and had left himself vulnerable to the hands rousing him from sleep. Hoseok hadn’t hesitated to continue, letting Jungkook’s whines and squirms be responsible for waking up Taehyung, and even if the witch had pouted and been grumpy for the first half an hour, it had quickly dissolved into teasing and discussion about whatever usual whacked dream Tae had had during the night. They had eaten breakfast together and shared kisses in the shower and had even gone as far to drop him off at school together to give him final kisses and promises for the day ahead.

Yet now he sat miserably in his drawing class, catching a sharp flurry of sneezes into his palm, and trying his best to sink into the shadows and away from everyone’s lingering gazes.

It wasn’t like he could help it. The frequency of the attacks were becoming more apparent with each passing moment and being in an enclosed theatre wasn’t helping. The girl next to him offered a sympathetic look before digging out some tissues for him, gesturing to a smudge of charcoal on his face as well.

Jungkook didn’t even care how desperate he appeared when he excused himself to the bathrooms to blow his nose. His head was beginning the ache and no amount of sniffling could help his running nose. There was a lengthy moment in the bathrooms just dedicated to splashing water on his face before staring blurrily at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were tinged red and his nose had taken on such a bright hue that if he walked home someone would probably grab him to shoot a cold commercial. Looking closely – and this very well may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that he could see a fine layer pollen sticking to his black ears. It was probably there. With how tight his chest was feeling, there had to have been something on him.

He coughed and blew his nose once more, contemplating if it would help if he just blocked his nostrils with the tissues from the rest of the session. He would look like a fool, but it could help… then again, with how sensitive his nose was currently it would probably just make it worse.

 A big part of him wondered what Tae and Hobi were doing, they weren’t allergic to flowers like he was so they were often able to still enjoy the day without having to worry too much about how they were going to feel at the end of it.

Hoseok had probably been spoiled by his classes and other staff members. Even before they’d started dating, Jungkook could see how much he appreciated the small little love notes or being gifted with a flower or a surprise date, or just being able to flaunt a relationship and be emerged in a bubble of emotions that left people staring longingly. He was able to do and get all of those things now, perhaps not all from Jungkook, but he got everything he deserved. Valentine’s day was always a big day from Hobi, probably because he never really cared about it before – especially back when he had still not to come out. And Jungkook was glad that he got spoilt now, he loved that people loved his boyfriend, and he especially loved how after being showered in complements and affection all day, the dancer came home and reached out in preference to his boyfriends.

With regards to his witch, the events shouldn’t be that much different. Taehyung was probably hiding behind some shelves, going through spell books. Or playfully flirting with Namjoon and Yoongi again. Or knocking off the love attempts of his small following of ‘fans’ that often came to the shop to swoon over him – much to Yoongi’s annoyance. Jungkook could never actually tell how Tae’s day would go. It seemed that every day was a day that someone expressed their ‘love’ for him, that hadn’t changed from when they had been teenagers.

Sinking to the tiled floor, he brought out his phone, frowning at the new crack in the screen from when he’d dropped it early that day. His ears drooped low, almost hiding his face as he stared down at their group chat.

Tae had posted an image about an hour ago of him fanning away faux tears while holding up three red roses dramatically, claiming that someone had -Unsurprisingly - confessed their undying love to him. He could see Yoongi over his boyfriends plaid shoulder entirely unamused at his apprentices actions. No doubt Tae had been lectured or had been subjected to a mouthful of tired, witty complaints after taking the photo.

Jungkook smiled at the quick replies beneath it.

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Hope they have life insurance.”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Hobi... You can’t kill them….”

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Don’t need to. Poor heart must have given out in defeat after you told them about your two super protective boyfriends.”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Two super protective, lovable and sinfully attractive boyfriends. And yes. I think a part of it did, and again when Yoongi interrupted them after they propositioned for a number swap…. but on an upside. I got to boast about you both again!! Highlight of my working hours.”

 After some more mild threats, Hobi mentioned some other points of his day – mostly speaking about the dare Jimin had been put up too, crashing into the staff room that morning wearing a bright pink and white cupid outfit with wings and a halo, throwing around confetti and giving him sunflowers, and then all of the cute cupids throughout the separate grades coming to hand out things or sing to designated students.

There were some time gaps in the conversations after that, between the sections where either of them were too busy too answer, but they seemed to be having fun as they switched to teasing each other. Both had left prompts or questions for Jungkook more than once, always willing to drag the youngest into their banter. Although his absence wasn’t uncharacteristic, his eyes still lingered on the softly toned question that Tae had slid out barely fifteen minutes before, asking whether Jungkook was busy and what he had been up too…

 Not feeling up to making excuses, Jungkook tapped into his camera and took a quick, slightly blurry selca – not even bothering to double check it before he sent it through the chat. He looked terrible, and he would still look terrible if he checked it anyway.  He breathed heavily from his mouth as he wiped his nose, only to increase the sensitive tingles that pulsed through him. Jungkook could feel his eyes burn with irritated tears and they itched. God he wanted to rub at them, and his ears, they always got this way when he was around flowers for too long, but he knew it was a bad idea. University was not the place to let his allergies and instincts completely control his actions.

He lifted his phone lazily to see new messages had come through.

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Oh Bun…”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Are you okay?”

“Allergies?”

“Is it bad there?”

“Can you breathe fine? Should I come fetch you?”

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“I think you should leave early… Tae, ask Yoongi to borrow his car..”

“and maybe bring something menthol.”

 ..

“I’m fine mostly… Just really sneezy. And my chest is a little tight but it’s not that bad, probably frojnm” –

Jungkook sneezed openly into his lap, blinking in a daze before realising he had accidentally sent the message.

“from exposure.”***

..

From: ~♥Tae♥~

“I’m going to leave now, should I come fetch you from a specific building? Or wait outside?”

..

There was a small part of Jungkook that felt bad for being an inconvenience, but mostly he was satisfied that he was going to go  home. Even if that meant that Tae missed out on some of the usual adoring customers being even more adoring towards him, Jungkook will get to shower and nap and just exist in peace for a bit. And that sounded great.

“outside. I’ll leave now.”

..

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“love you Jungkook. I’ll be home as soon as I can!”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, maximum.”

   He didn’t waste any more time. Discarding his used tissues, Jungkook shuffled back to his classroom. He coughed into his fist as soon as the door to the theatre had closed behind him, locking him inside with his demons. Thankfully he didn’t have to explain much to his lecturer. They had taken one look at him and just waved him away sympathetically, telling him to feel better and to try get some work done later if possible. Given the all clear, he had practically sprinted out of the room after grabbing his supplies.  

 The sun beamed down on him, almost brutally. His black wardrobe wasn’t helping much in that regard, but he walked hastily through the bustling courtyard to find the shading parking area just outside the security gates. A campus guard gave him a brief wave as he passed, eyes softening a little at the state of the shy, yet charismatic hybrid that he had come to know. Jungkook held his wrist to his nose as he ventured further away from the small crowds of people. He found an old bench that was situated under one of the many large Korean oak trees, that’s shadows were cast over his skin mimicking that of a cool breeze. It wasn’t the most comfortable seat, but it served his purpose. After getting as comfortable as he could on the frail wood, he tried once more to clear his nose. It was a hopeless attempt of trying to rid himself of symptoms, one that had obviously failed and had left him sinking back into the old harsh wood of the bench with closed eyes. He couldn’t smell the usually musky, earthy scent that clung to this area and he wasn’t willing to send himself into a fit by looking up at the dappled light shining through the leaves over head – although he could probably recall each and every possible shade that it could be right then. He’d tried to paint the various lighting on the leaves many times, year-round. The view was usually one he’d never want to miss, but the day had taken every last bit of energy he had and trying to appreciate it right this second just wasn’t going to be possible.

 “Kook?”

Jungkook opened his eyes to see Taehyung peering out of the driver window of Yoongi’s much loved Jeep. Had ten minutes passed already? It hadn’t seemed like it… Jungkook blinked slowly at the vehicle a few steps in front of him, reached to rub subconsciously at his eyes. Taehyung looked just has beautiful as he had that morning, his pinched brows more prominent by the red bandana that exposed his forehead. He had parked the car at a slant so that he could pull off easily, not caring about the irked glances security was sending his way for taking up more than one parking.

Realising a bit belatedly that this was his lift,  Jungkook sniffed and grabbed his things, shuffling tiredly to the passenger door. He vaguely heard Tae say something else as he hopped into the seat and tossed his things to the back, but he wasn’t really paying attention. A warm hand brushed through his hair, down his arm and then settled on his own fist. Jungkook closed his eyes once more and rested his head against the glass as Tae started driving, his hand being intertwined into a tight grasp that lay between the both of them as he drifted languidly to the sound of tires on tarmac and Tae’s gentle humming.

    **

“How is he?” Hoseok asked as Taehyung grabbed two of the three grocery bags the elder had been carrying inside, both moving too quickly put them onto the kitchen counter before starting to pack things away.

Hoseok had wanted to come home straight after work but had opted to going shopping in order to at least make something up for later if Jungkook was up for it – he was able to grab a few things for his boyfriends as well. They usually didn’t get things for each other when it came to these types of holidays, but he couldn’t help himself.

Taehyung shrugged. “He was really tired, so I had to wake him up a few times before he could shower, then he just kind of went to bed. I barely got a full sentence out of him.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. It wasn’t as worrying as the first few times he’d seen Jungkook get allergy attacks, he’d learnt that the hybrid tended to get stuck in his head and what he was feeling. Most of the time Jungkook didn’t even realise that he was going quiet, but Hoseok wished that he would at least let them help more.

“He probably just needs some time for the worst of it to calm down, I bought some scented lotions for later. If he wants it. Some dark chocolate too.”

“Should we make a soup or something?” Tae pondered. They usually stuck to warm foods when it came to allergies and colds, especially with Jungkook who was prone to rhinitis.  

“I was thinking about making a curry, or ordering one in if Jungkook needed us, but if he’s still asleep we can start making it now. The spices would help a bit.” Hoseok pursed his lips as he looked over what was yet to be packed away, his hands resting on his hips.

He startled a bit when he felt Taehyung wrap his arms around him from behind, resting his head into the crook of Hoseok’s neck as he engulfed the dancer into a fierce yet tender hug. Taehyung laid a kiss just below Hobi’s ear, smiling against the elders skin before sighing happily and relaxing onto his boyfriends sturdy frame.

“Why don’t you go shower so long? You’ve also had a long day… I’ll start cutting everything for you, I’ve gotten better - you’ve taught me well.” Tae said softly, his chest warming as Hoseok leant back as fluidly as he had leant on the dancer. “Then we can set up for a nice night in. Kookie didn’t even bother to set up a nest earlier, so I think it would be nice if we tried to do something like that for him. Then he can be comfortable enough to decide if he wants help or not…”

Hobi chuckled. “A little eager?”

“What can I say? He’s adorable… and I wasn’t the one that bought scented lotions and chocolate.”

“Touché.” Hoseok stepped out from the embrace with a grin, not wanting to inform the witch that he’d gotten those specifically because he knew the other two enjoyed it. He didn’t typically get the same reactions from it as they did, but he loved the care involved. Thinking about what the night entailed got his body buzzed with warm sparks as the expensive gift bag that he’d smuggled inside using his duffle bag came to mind. He couldn’t wait to for his boyfriends to see what he’d gotten them. “I’ll go shower, hopefully Kook is feeling better later… Be careful with that knife!”

 It wasn’t long before both Taehyung and Hoseok had finished with their preparations. Their meal was simmering away, filling the apartment with rich spicy aroma’s, and they had transformed their lounge into what they hoped was an appropriate nest of sorts. Carrying a mattress from one of their guest rooms had been a little difficult to do quietly, but Tae had peeked in on Jungkook to see that he was still uncovered, lying diagonally across their bed, smothering his snores into a pillow. After that, collecting a variety of blankets, pillows, plushies and majority of the soft scarves and sweaters that they had, had been a piece of cake. Hobi had made sure to dedicate a small table to the lotions and tissues, while another stayed mostly bare for their food and drinks later, the only thing adorning it was the chocolates Hobi had bought alongside a small herbal arrangement that Tae had gone and grabbed from Hoseok’s little garden on the ground floor, adding a few roses that he had easily twined up from wire.

Overall, it looked cute. It had even been fun to make.

They curled up on their soft creation while Taehyung set up a line-up of movies, listening to Hobi’s suggestions intently – not caring that half of his ideas were going to leave them crying if they watched them.

If its what Hobi wanted, it’s what he was going to get.

 It was just before six when Jungkook stumbled into the room. His nose was still red and a bit swollen, and his fist rubbed at his one ear with annoyance. The bunny hybrid had paused, his brows pitched into a tight frown as he took in the set up before him, then sniffled and collapsed onto Taehyung where he sat amongst the blankets.

He had woken up feeling a bit more refreshed, that tightness in his chest had disappeared, but he was still bothered by that  itchy feeling in his sinuses and congestion.

“How’re you feeling, Bun?” Hoseok asked as he joined them from the kitchen. His hand tangling up into Jungkook’s hair before scratching slowly at the base of his ear.

The hybrid blinked as a buzzed sensation did a lap through his body, leaving him rubbing a finger under his nose harshly. He could feel Taehyung pulling him back so that he’d be resting against the witches chest, Tae’s large hands rubbed ticklish circles into his sides that left him twitching in the elders lap.

..

..

“Bun?”

“’m fine..” Jungkook answered, focusing his slitted gaze on Hoseok’s face hovering before him. “Just…meh.”

Hobi hummed lowly. He dragged his nail along the length of Jungkook’s ear, sending shivers to course through his body. Hoseok did it again – slower – grinning as he watched as Tae flushed lightly and bit at his lip while Jungkook squirmed harder against the witches lap.

“What’s bothering you Kook? Should we help?” Hoseok asked softly.

“We made some food for us, too.” Taehyung added, a smidge deeper than usual. “We were going to wake you, but then we wouldn’t have been able to surprise you…”

Jungkook smothered a yawn into his fist, resting his head back onto Tae’s shoulder as he glanced around. The smile that spread across his lips wouldn’t stop growing as he caught sight of everything that they’d put into their attempt at nesting. They’d actually done well, almost an exact copy of what he would have done. His gaze landed on a set of lotions and the itch in his nose only seemed to increase at the thought of opening one of them.

“Food sounds great.” He said, scrunching up his nose. “I didn’t really feel like eating earlier.”

Without a moments’ pause Hoseok was heading back to the kitchen, followed closely by Tae who had gently nudged Jungkook to curl into the blankets beside him rather than on him so that he could help. They had dished up hastily, putting a hefty amount of the curry and rice mixture on the hybrids plate before carrying it out. Tae had made sure to grab a few bottles of flavoured milk before he returned to the room, where Hoseok and Jungkook were lighting up two of his large, sturdy scentless candles. With a soft smile he flicked his wrist towards the switch on the wall as he sat beside Jungkook, letting the room fall to darkness before the candles flame settled into a stable glow. They moved the candles up on either side of the tv screen and away from any possible accident range.

The meal had been a simple setting of silence, the trio all paying attention to either their food or the film that was playing just loud enough to not disturb the neighbours. Jungkook had sat through half the meal with tissues grasped in his hand, wiping at his nose every few minutes as the spices and heat opened up his sinuses. The itch had still not left, but had taken a bit of a backseat momentarily, which Jungkook didn’t know if he was thankful or annoyed about.

This definitely wasn’t exactly how he had planned for this day to go, it never was, but his boyfriends had somehow found an alternative to still have a good time. A part of him knew, the part that kept glancing back to those meticulously arranged lotions, that it would feel good to sneeze now, unlike earlier when the rest of his symptoms were problematic. Yet he didn’t want to ruin the soft mood that had been created. Not to mention asking them to help him with his nose was probably not very high on the romance list. Just one normal Valentines. That’s his aim. Just one. Surely it was possible…

So, he bit down on his lip and tried his best to ignore that lingering tickle, sipping on some milk, and letting the chocolate melt over his tongue.

They had just started the second film -another cute romcom that Hoseok had been hung up about- when Jungkook felt that tickle become apparent once more. Consuming him so far that he hadn’t realised that he had audibly hitched until he felt Tae’s soft, concerned strokes along his back. Defeated, Jungkook raised his hands to hover in front of his face, letting his breath shake and build – only to rapidly blink in confusion as the urge left him disappointed and sniffling. He frowned, then shrugged sheepishly at his boyfriends who had both turned to watch him. Hesitantly, they returned their focus to the movie, Hoseok had shuffled a bit closer to hug into Jungkook’s side while he watched so that he could hide his smile into the hybrids shirt each time something cute or embarrassing happened on the screen. Which Jungkook usually encouraged, but now Hoseok would give him a quick sideways glance each time he felt the youngers breath stutter – and he was almost certain that Taehyung had been aware of it as well after he moved the open box of tissues closer. After the fifth empty promise Jungkook didn’t care that it was blatantly obvious what he needed, he just wanted to be able to sneeze.

He sat up straight, causing Hobi to be pushed off of him, and rubbed at his nose as he glanced up to the ceiling. His breathing built shakily but once again, nothing happened. He let out a frustrated moan and pressed both hands to the base of his ears, rubbing hard to try and force some sort of result out of him.

“Jungkook?” Hoseok prodded, pulling one of the hybrids hands away from his ears. “What’s wrong?”

“I ne-h’hih-ed to sne-ehh..hh’heh…”

And then he saw through teary eyes, the soft tissue held before him.

“Let us help then, yeah?” Tae said deeply. It wasn’t like Jungkook was going to decline that offer.

Taehyung wrapped an arm over Jungkook’s shoulders to get more comfortable and then gently placed his tissue-armoured hand over the hybrid’s twitching red nose. Jungkook stiffened as his breathing faltered further by just having the enclosed warmth from Tae’s palm, both arms falling to his lap. An urgent whine crept from his throat as he felt the pressure of the witches fingers on the sinuses either side of his nose. His mouth had fallen open with  soft, panting breaths and he could feel Tae’s arm tightening around him as he gently massaged in silence.

A tight ball of heat had settled in Jungkook’s stomach, gradually working its way into his chest as he was left a physical mess and Taehyung pulled away to switch to a new tissue, deciding that the old one had become useless. Jungkook had been about to complain when he felt a long cooling breath directly hit his nose from the left. His eyes had snapped shut and he had pitched forward so quickly that Taehyung had barely made it time to catch the wet fit of sneezes that had allergic tears trickling down Jungkook’s cheeks.

 Huhe’TSHhh!! ..Hehh’ETCHhew! Eh’TSHhiew!...... …  Heh’ehhhshheww … Heh’eehhhTCHsheww!!

 Instinctively Jungkook had reached up to cover, trapping Tae’s hand in place as he snapped forward with another triple – half stifled as he squished into the steady palm.

“Bless.” Hoseok pressed a hand to the nape of Jungkook’s neck. “Better?”

Jungkook sniffled as Taehyung pulled away, only to have Hoseok press another tissue to his nose.

“Blow for me.”

A flush spread across Jungkook’s cheeks at the request but he did as was asked, taking a deep breath before blowing out with wet muffled burst. Hoseok didn’t flinch away and wiped at the hybrids nose once he’d finished.

Jungkook glanced away to see Taehyung slip a piece of chocolate into his mouth, then the witch met his gaze through dark, heavy lashes.

“Better?” He repeated Hobi’s question.

 Mostly. The itch wasn’t completely gone, but it wasn’t as bad as before. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to brush it aside anymore.

His mouth fell open to begin his explanation only to be met with chocolate flavoured lips. For the first time since that morning Jungkook was able to fully catch the witches scent. A wave of familiarity doused him, urging him into further contentment. He sniffed and leant closer as Tae had gone to move away, pressing his lips to the column of his neck as he breathed in the woodsy scent once more. A rumble vibrated through Taehyung’s throat as he laughed, pulling Jungkook into him as he rolled back into the nest playfully.

“You seem better.” Hoseok murmured with amusement.

“I-“ Jungkook looked up to see Hobi also reaching for the chocolate. “Thank you…It still… its fuzzy.”

“You want us to keep helping you, Kookie?”

Slowly, Jungkook nodded. A heat spread up his neck as Taehyung grinned at him, almost like he’d been waiting for Jungkook to ask all night.

“Can you lean back into me Bun?”

The question was practically rhetorical, Jungkook wasn’t going to be going against anything they asked of him at this point. He glanced over Tae’s shoulder and the elder’s grin slid into a lazy smirk.

“Tilt up.”

Their movie played on in the background, barely being heard over the pounding in Jungkook’s ears paired with his heavy breaths. Hobi held him gently and rubbed his cheek against the tender part of Jungkook’s neck, only increasing his pants a light trickle of pleasure bled through him. Taehyung took his time, dabbing a small section of his wrist with one of the bottles Jungkook had so keenly peered at before twisting a tissue up, ready to get to work. The hybrids nose twitched as he caught the sweet, fruity scent – at first only becoming slightly irritated until Taehyung moved closer. The candlelight hit the elder like a heavenly glow, an angel descending towards him with expression of something fallen rather than graced. He wondered what Hoseok would look like next to him – he wondered what Taehyung saw when he looked at them. From the depth of his gaze, Jungkook could only assume that it was something just as mesmerising as his view…

His senses burned.

Jungkook gasped and felt his eyes flutter shut as Taehyung moved to sit on his lap, his legs overlapping Hobi’s on either side of Jungkook. The witch reached up and pulled lightly at one of his ears and Jungkook moaned as he sniffed deeply, earning himself a lungful of the intoxicatingly sweet scent that had him pitch forward with a sharp ‘H’ehh’nngxch’. A finger settled below his chin and he met Taehyung’s burning eyes and tilted his head back obediently, his breath hitching against the scented wrist of the witch as he carefully inserted the tissue. The tickle that had permanently settled at the back of his nose reared into a dominant existence as Taehyung moved the ‘tool’ around in a calculated manner, while Hoseok took to laying soft kisses along his neck and ears.

Hoseok murmured soft words as he rubbed his thumbs into Jungkook’s lower back, asking how he was or if he wanted more. The bunny couldn’t even formulate a full sentence without his breath stuttering off. God, if he knew this was how his day would have ended he probably wouldn’t have been so annoyed about it in the beginning.  

Tae angled the tissue to reach slightly further in, biting his lip as Jungkook slackened beneath him, but still resulted in nothing more than desperate hitching.

“Angel…” Tae whispered deeply as he pushed the bottle of lotion that he’d opened towards Hobi. “Maybe we should work together on this…”

Hoseok kissed Jungkook’s neck a final time before he emptied some of the oil onto his palm behind the hybrids back. Taehyung returned his attention to Jungkook, dragging the tip of his forefinger lightly around the rims of the hybrids nose before returning the tissue to the next nostril.

Nghh hh hih… … huh.huh ..huh hhh… mmghhm..

Jungkook was going to die of frustration. Truly and entirely. Taehyung was teasing him now. The witch could very easily help him alone. He knew exactly what to do and where to go, and yet he wished to tempt and torture it out of Jungkook. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but damnit… now?

Jungkook gasped as heat scorched his blood. Taehyung had to rest a hand on his shoulder to steady him from slipped forward as Hoseok slipped his hands beneath the bunnies shirt. The dancers fingers glided over his skin like a sculptor, fluidly glazing his skin with the cold lotion. His nose quivered and his chest heaved. Immediately he was crumbling into a sniffling mess, Taehyung had even taken a moment to stop his tempting – although that may have been a new type of torture, letting Jungkook’s breath build. Somewhat desperate, Jungkook reached up to paw at the bridge of his nose only to have Hoseok grab a hold of his wrist, pulling it to join his own trailing the hybrids clenched stomach.

“Poor Kookie.” Taehyung brushed his hand through the youngers hair, tugging it lightly before petting down the length of Jungkook’s ear. “Why can’t you sneeze… hmm?”

“T-hih- teassahh ..snf snf..ah huh hh...”

Almost pitying, Taehyung settled his hand on Jungkook’s cheek, and the hybrids nostrils flared. A single finger ran down the bridge of Jungkook’s nose and his chest burst with an aching heat.

Huh iih eh ehh ehH’HESHI’uh! HEH’ITDZshhh! …Huh.. hh..nmmnmm snf. SNf. … eh ehh’hh ..h he heH…. heh’NGGXTshhheww! H’NGCHh’shuh… snnf

Jungkook panted and sniffled thickly, refusing to open his eyes to see the mess he’d probably made on Taehyung’s arm that had yet to move. One of Hoseok’s hand found its way up Jungkook’s spine, steadily sending chills through his body until the dancer slipped out and massaged at Jungkook’s ears. The bunny snapped forward into another bout of desperate breathy sneezes as his fur became slicked back and oiled as well.

“There you go..” Taehyung murmured lowly as he brought a tissue to the hybrids nose, catching the wet expulsions with a gently grasp – giving soft, prodding massages whenever the younger stuttered off shakily.

Between Taehyung’s pestering and Hoseok’s support and wayward gestures, Jungkook was pretty fucking blissed.

 ..

“You good?” Taehyung asked, pulling the younger into his embrace once Hoseok had excused himself to the bathroom.

“Mmmm. Stuffy… but good.” Jungkook ran his wrist under his nose, only to prompt a congested sneeze into his lap twice more.

Even after the lengthy shower that they’d had, Jungkook still couldn’t breathe out of his nose but it wasn’t exactly surprising. Taehyung had continued his teasing for almost an hour before deciding he’d done a decent job of satisfying what Jungkook needed. It had been great, Jungkook couldn’t remember the last time Taehyung had played this way, the last couple times that he’d asked for help had been simple and somewhat time restrained. And having both his boyfriends at his disposal had been the topping of it all.  

He closed his eyes and lent his head back onto Tae’s chest while the elder started to hum a soft tune that had a gradually serenity flooding into Jungkook’s body, almost encouraging the bunny to slip into sleep. He had been teetering on the edge of darkness when he heard the sound of Hoseok’s light footsteps re-enter the room.

  “Oh… is he asleep?”

“No,” Taehyung answered just as softly as Hobi had asked. “Not yet anyway..”

“Okay… Okay, I have to do something.” Hoseok said, oddly serious.

 Jungkook forced his eyes open again to see the usually spriteful dancer shuffling awkwardly in the dim candlelight, his thick jacket grasped tightly in his hands. Jungkook tried to swallow his yawn, failing to a second one, before clearing his throat with a light cough.  

  “You’re … leaving?” Jungkook frowned, his ears drooping low at the mere thought of not having both of his boyfriends near him.

“No!” Hoseok moved to his knees directly in front of the pair. His jacket falling to the ground with a thud. “I need to do something with you two.. or say something rather… and I hope you.. I don’t know.. like it? I guess?”

“Okay then..” Taehyung set his chin lazily on top of Jungkook’s head, giving Hobi a small reassuring smile. “I’m pretty sure we agreed no gifts, but if you need too…”

“I do.” Hoseok licked his lips, taking a shaky breath. For a moment the only sound in the room was Jungkook’s soft sniffles that he tried to muffle into his sleeve. Another breath, deeper and steadier this time. “I love you… both of you, so much I can’t even comprehend it. How did I end up at this point? The closeted human kid ending up in a relationship as comfortable and loving as this with not one, but two heart throbbingly precious men whose souls are probably the most kind and fearless and open that I will ever meet… I got so lucky.. I can’t imagine not seeing you every day, or not waking up to a full bed, or not watching you two bicker over food, or kissing you after a long day, or hearing your completely bizarre daily adventures – especially you Tae, I want to know every time you accidentally set something on fire or make potions combust in their jars –“

“it was two times!”

“My point being,” Hoseok laughed. “That I want to be in your lives for the rest of mine. I know I probably could have planned this better, but I suppose everything about us was a bit spontaneous…” he reached into the inner pockets of his jacket and retrieved two velvet boxes in each fist. “I know you both would do this differently, given the obvious differences, but I felt like this was the right time for me… we don’t need to like do anything straight away or anything I just-“

Jungkook reached out to touch Hoseok’s leg, halting the mans speech. “You’re rambling Sunshine.”

Hoseok bit at his bottom lip as he saw the faint confusion tinted in the bunnies furrowed brows and pursed lips, yet Taehyung was beaming with glistening eyes, his gaze never leaving Hoseok’s face.

“I- uh… here.” He handed the emerald box to Taehyung, who seemed to be trying not to shed any surprised tears, then pushed the crimson box into Jungkook’s palm. The hybrid’s confused expression rapidly turning into one of awe. “It’s not a unique sigil, or a mating mark, but this is the only way I can make a physical bond. I’ve thought about this for so long and I just…..I… yeah.. ..m-marry me?”

“Ma-Marry?” Jungkook blinked widely, while Taehyung squeezed the hybrid tightly with a huge boxy grin.

“As if we’d ever say no to you?” Taehyung giggled, the candlelight doing a good job at hiding the flush that had crept to his cheeks.

“Marry?” Jungkook repeated, almost hollowly.

Hoseok swallowed hard at the what could be about to happen. God, had this been a mistake? “You don’t need to say yes Bun, I just.. this is something I needed to ask. I just wanted us.. I just want to be bound to you more than just words. I want people to see that you’re mine, but it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Taehyung peered down at the bunny questionably then opened his box. The ring was a thick simple band of white, laced with gold intricate designs of engraved roses and small rose quartz embedded in a circle throughout the centre. He didn’t stop the tears from falling then. Just nodded while biting down on his lip. Jungkook turned to see the ring, then looked down at his own box with his mouth agape.

“You.. You want to marry me?” Jungkook spoke softly. “I just spent the last hour and a half sneezing myself into the next plain of reality, and you choose now to ask this?” The hybrid gave a choked laugh, opening his box to see a black ring that was identical to Tae’s in design. Simple and yet so beautiful.  “Oh my god Jung Hoseok. You have the worst timing. I love you so much.”

Hoseok sucked in a tight breath and shifted to sit beside the pair. “Is that a yes?”

Jungkook started laughing again, sniffling back his tears. “Are you going to put these on us?”

Hobi grinned so widely it hurt. His blood danced and his heart screamed as both of his boyfriends leant into him, letting him slide their rings on.

“Ohhh  this is going to start a riot at work.” Taehyung teased happily. The giddiness in his voice only increasing as time passed.

“Good those girls can finally leave you alone.” Hobi kissed Tae’s shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with Jungkook’s. the ring pleasantly cool against his skin.

“To think I wasn’t looking forward to this day.” Jungkook mumbled, leaning back into both of his boyfriends arms.. “Best Disaster Day of my life