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angelsworks · 9 months

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A Scarab Knows Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle) x reader

Summary: Times when the scarab on your boyfriends back caught you in a lie.

Warnings: Smut, angst, insecure!reader, talks of period, 18+

Moodboard credit goes to @your-yandere-kiss They’ve got so many other great moodboards. I’d definitely recommend you check them out if you like that sort of thing.

DC Masterlist

It took a while to get used to the scarab. Khaji Da was not what you were expecting Jaime to reveal after a couple of months of dating. Your boyfriend was so nervous as he explained the ancient alien that held the power of the blue beetle that had bonded to his back. At first you had no response. Then you wanted to see it to which Jaime happily obliged.

Your eyes found the shiny blue shell of the beetle in line with Jamie’s shoulder blades. Call it morbid curiosity that lead you to reaching out and gently tracing part of the scarab. When red eyes opened and glowed along the scarabs elytra in response you jumped back in surprise. The action causing Jaime to jump up and away from you.

He didn’t say anything, instead staring almost blankly at something behind you. An action you’d found him doing throughout your relationship. Only now did you realise it was because of Khaji Da.

Finally he spoke, “I think it likes you.”

From then on things got better with Jamie. There were no secrets between the two of you anymore and you could continue your relationship in peace. Well almost in peace. The scarab on his back was to blame for that.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Khaji Da, it’s just that it was almost like another person you had to share your boyfriend with. A person that was with him all the time. A person that he has secret talks with. A person that he fought crime with.

You weren’t jealous. Jaime was yours and Khaji Da had no interest in him like that. It was just hard getting used to being in a relationship with Jaime and now Khaji Da. After telling you about his scarab Jaime could talk to it more openly, without you thinking he was strange. Sometimes you’d be with Jaime watching a movie and he’d answer a question you hadn’t asked. Or other times you’d be looking for something you’d lost and he’d blurt out it’s location, claiming Khaji Da had told him.

Khaji Da wasn’t all bad, in fact it treated you kindly and as a valued person to Jaime. Over time it too became protective like Jaime towards you. A gesture you found sweet. Well mostly sweet.

One evening you saw the positives to the scarab on your boyfriends back.

The day you’d had was one for the history books. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. This morning you overslept for class meaning you had to rush out the door. In class you realised you left your paper you’d been working on at your home. After class you went to your job at a local restaurant. A job that on a good day would wear you down and drain your social skills. But on a bad day? It was unimaginable. To add to it you started your period mid shift, unprepared of course.

Finally at the end of the day you remembered the plans you had to stay over at your boyfriends apartment. Despite feeling anything but happy, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed your tears back as you greeted him. You hugged him tightly and kept up your facade. Engaging in small talk about your day and your class. Purposely leaving out or brushing over the majority of bad bits.

Jaime was buying the facade of course and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you hadn’t been dating for long and he hadn’t learnt you yet. However Khaji Da had, or to some extent it had.

A quick body scan had revealed your true feelings. Your low mood, recently working tear ducts and uterus walls cramping. All of which was relayed to Jaime whose face quickly took to looking crestfallen.

“Mi Vida, why would you lie to me?” Jaime asks softly. Pulling you from beside him on the couch to his lap.

You look at him startled. Unable to form words or even think of a coherent answer. But he waits for one. Even though it takes a few beats of silence.

“What - how do you know?” You ask him perplexed.

His tongue swipes out over his lips, “Khaji Da scans almost everyone I meet. It makes a habit of scanning you especially.”

You nod slowly, letting the new information sink in. You wonder just how much Khaji Da knows about you. You wonder how much information it passed on to Jaime each time you met. Was this the first time it caught you out in a lie, or just the first time Jaime chose to bring it up.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my bad day Jaime. You seemed so happy. I just wanted to enjoy being with you today.”

Jaime sighed and held you impossibly closer. Rubbing your back as you let out a few tears.

“Nothing you tell me would burden me. I love you so much Cielo.” Jaime whispers in your ear.

“Cielo?” You ask, unsure of the endearment.

“It means sky or heaven. That’s what you are to me. Nothing my Cielo tells me burdens me. You are my world, Mi Vida.”

Although Khaji Da’s interference worked out this time, it didn’t always. One time in particular didn’t end well with Jaime.

It was just past nine when your eyes glanced over to the clock on the bedside lamp. Jaime had been pounding into you for what felt like hours. He’d been out all evening doing something for Kord industries. The topic a sore one as you knew of the previous feelings he felt for Jenny.

You tried to put your feelings aside and remember that Jaime was with you now, not her. Your efforts hadn’t been good enough as Khaji Da and Jaime had seen right through it. Leaving him no choice but to show you just how much he loved you.

Yet the hurried passion between you hadn’t given you the stimulation you needed to reach your climax even once. There was little foreplay and things unraveled and quickly lead to him being deep inside you.

At one point you’d moved your fingers to your clit, trying to gain something to take you over the edge. Jaime, thinking you were acting up as you often did with him (in dynamic of course) removed your hand and pinned it with your other above your head. He gave you a gentle kiss and whispered some dirty words in your ear.

“Are you close?” He panted, still hammering into you. You thought about saying no, then wondered what he would think. You started to feel insecure in the fact that your orgasm was taking so long. So you decided to pretend.

It wasn’t something you’d ever had to do before but once wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You moaned out a reply and started your act. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, praising your partner for his work, clenching your walls on his cock. It wasn’t long before he followed you. Stilling inside you before reaching his own.

After pulling out slowly and kissing your temple he rolled over, having a moment before getting a wash cloth for you.

Silence hung in the air. Comfortable silence of course, but silence non the less. Jamie’s hand found yours, holding it gently as he often did.

Some time passed before his grip changed and became tighter. He turned on his side and looked at you accusingly.

“You faked it?” He asked, a little hurt but mostly angry.

Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heating up. “Jaime it’s not like that, you know I wouldn’t - ”

“But you did, or else Khaji Da wouldn’t have brought it up.”

You let out a huff, “Why does it matter. I’m sure it happens to plenty of couples all the time. I’m fine. Your fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You move to roll over only to be pulled back by an angry Jaime. You’d never seen him this annoyed before about something you’d done. Usually you couldn’t put a foot wrong with him. He thought everything about you was great. It would be a lie to say his anger didn’t make you guilty about being dishonest.

“It matters because your my girlfriend. We aren’t just another couple. And while I’ve got working fingers, a working tongue and a working cock I have no excuse not to make you cum.” He tells you in earnest, putting his anger aside for a minute.

Although the sentiment is there, his wording isn’t. Jamie’s right, everything about him works. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to make you cum. It’s you that’s the problem and that same insecurity creeps back in once more. Making you doubt if there was something wrong with you. Making you remember why you lied in the first place. You didn’t want him to think less of you.

“So why Mi Vida, why lie to me? You know I love you.”

You huff again but this time it’s more pitiful as you feel your throat tightening. “It’s not you Jaime, it was me. It just wasn’t happening. I don’t know if I needed more foreplay or something. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong. Please let’s just go to sleep.” You practically beg. The warmth in your face ever increasing from the embarrassment you now feel.

As he understands your words he feels his anger dissipate. “There is nothing wrong with you Cielo, I should have done more before you know, going inside you. It was rushed. But you need to know that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I love making you cum.”

You smile, leaning over to kiss Jaime. Who responded eagerly almost trying to make up for lost time. Showing you that there was nothing wrong with you at all.

“Let me show you how much I love doing it Mi Vida.”

You could only nod as your boyfriend spent the rest of the night doing everything he could to make you cum.

By the time he’d done you’d finished a record number of times and had forgotten any ill will you’d felt towards Khaji Da. It turned out to be quite useful.

#angelsworks post #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader #jaime reyes #Jaime Reyes x reader #khaji da

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atlasofthestaars · 8 months

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heart to heart

summary:

“The touching of foreheads—this is an ancient greeting. that honors the heart and soul of another human.”

you and your lover have a tender moment.

includes: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, and Cassie Cage

note: something different ig?? just wanted to do something indulgent and wanted to dabble in drabbles. (these ended up being longer bc. pressure.) I also wanted to take this time to practice writing some sweeter stuff for the love interests of New Era + Cassie bc my friend likes her. idk if people want more I can probs do other charas too.

LIU KANG

A content sigh left your lips as you pressed your forehead forward to meet Liu Kang’s. Your eyes fluttered closed. His hands, which now no longer had their wraps, gently cupped your cheeks. His hands were always warm, and they helped keep away the chill of the night. A thumb gently rubbed small circles, a habit of his that you always found oh so endearing. You couldn’t help but to melt into his hands.

This was perfect. There was nothing more you could long for in this world. Though, you knew if you wanted anything Liu Kang would be there to fulfill your wishes. Anything was worth the smile on your face.

In the day, Liu Kang was often busy with his duties. Being the protector of Earthrealm came with many responsibilities, and the both of you knew that. Oftentimes, you would go long stretches within the day without seeing a hint of your lover. It was simply something you had to accept being Liu Kang’s lover. However, that did not mean he neglected you. Not at all.

At the end of the day, when the sun gave way to the moon and let it shine upon the world, Liu Kang returned. Night time was always the time he set aside for just the both of you. It soon became your favorite time of day just because it meant he would be there, right at your side.

“You look so perfect.” Liu Kang whispered. His voice carried reverence within it, as if you were the god who had crafted the universe with utmost care and love. You opened your eyes, and for a moment, you were left breathless. No matter how much time passed, he always looked at you as if you were the pinnacle of perfection.

Any sort of response you had was stuck in your throat. You could never tire of staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. You often asked if he had given himself the ability to hypnotize others with his gaze. He told you every time that no, he did not. But if he didn’t, why were you so entranced by them every single time you dared to look at them?

You wished you could put into words how much you loved this man. From the way he looked with his silky long hair that you loved to play and run your hands through, to the way he was so kind and loving. You often wondered and asked how you were lucky to be the partner of such a god, to which he always told you that he was the lucky one.

“I am thankful you wait for me every night.” The god murmured, his voice so full of love and genuine thankfulness. He removed his forehead, and you mourned the loss of contact before he pressed a featherlight kiss to yours. Then, he returned his forehead back to yours, and everything was as it should be. “I wish I could spend every minute by your side, my love.”

You wished so too, but every night was just enough for you.

KUNG LAO

Your forehead bumped into Kung Lao’s a bit clumsily. There was far too much energy and excitement buzzing in both of your veins to prevent that little stumble. It didn’t matter either way to you, you were just happy to be in his arms. He was equally happy to hold you, and you could tell by the way his arms squeezed around you.

You always felt happiest in his arms, honestly. There was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be than right here.

“Did you see that!?” Kung Lao asked, his eyes wide as they searched your face. While Kung Lao always sought out approval and compliments, there was nothing better than the ones he received from you. It just made him feel like he was on top of the world. To his delight, he saw the way you nodded accompanied with a wide happy grin on your face. The grins he got from you were perhaps the best type of approval he could ever get from you.

A laugh left your lips as he squeezed his arms tighter around you in delight. Every embrace from him felt like it was full of the love he felt for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His nose nuzzled against yours, and more laughter spilt from your lips. You couldn’t help it, he knew just how to make you happy. Your face heat up from how nearly overwhelmed you were from his affection, the love nearly overflowing from your heart.

“You’re always so cute when you blush.” Kung Lao teased, a hand rising up to pinch at your cheek affectionately. His eyes glinted with mischief and glee, but most of all, love. He adored the way he could make you blush and how your heart would race. It meant that you felt exactly the same way whenever he would just look at you sometimes.

You leaned back, a wide grin on your face as you swatted away his hand in a playful manner. Rolling his eyes, he instead cupped your cheek. Before you could protest in any sort of way about his earlier comment, you were attacked with a flurry of kisses all over your face.

“Sorry, you’re too adorable. I couldn’t resist.” Kung Lao apologized, but you both knew he would pepper your face with his kisses again and again the next chance he got. His grin was the perfect mixture of smug and gleeful. And his dimples were the perfect icing on the cake. You raised a hand up to cup his cheek and traced his dimples with his thumb.

“A fan?” Kung Lao inquired, eyebrows raising up in a teasing manner. His ego seemed to only get bigger and bigger with every adoring look you gave him, but you didn’t care. A laugh left his lips again as he pressed his forehead back to yours. It was a little too much force again, but the both of you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together and basking in each other’s mutual affection.

You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

RAIDEN

Your forehead pressed against Raiden’s gently as the two of you lay underneath a sea of stars. You two had decided to stargaze since it was such a pretty sight outside. The sky was clear and the moon was full, and yet there was nothing you wanted to look more at than the man beside you. How could you not?

Your eyes searched your lover’s face, admiring how the moonlight fell just perfectly on his face. How could a man look so amazing as the one in front of you? Perhaps you’d have to thank Liu Kang sometime for blessing you with the image of perfection. While being so in awe of the champion’s beauty, you nearly missed the comment he made.

“You look amazing.” He spoke, his voice filled with so much affection for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait you adored so much, even if was sometimes a flaw of his. A soft smile appeared on his face, the very same one that made you fall a bit more in love with him every single time. You couldn’t help but grin just a bit wider at the sight.

You should be the one telling him that, in all honesty. The proper words to express your love for him were lost though. How could someone express such adoration and love? You thought there weren’t nearly enough words in all of the realms to tell him how much you truly admired him.

His hand moved carefully towards your face, as if moving too fast would break the peaceful atmosphere. He was always so thoughtful about such things, especially so when it had to do with you. Then finally, after far too long, it settled on your cheek where it should be.

His thumb moved slowly across your face before it landed on your lips. It rubbed across your bottom lip leisurely. His gaze drifted away from your lips as he returned his thumb to rest on your cheek once more. Now they settled on looking into yours, and you wondered to yourself just how lucky you were to have such a man by your side.

“You are more lovely of a sight than all of the stars combined.” Raiden said, his voice filled with such sincerity it made your heart skip a beat. Then again, he was sincere in all things he said. It didn’t make you swoon over him any less. “I’m so lucky.” He confessed, humble as ever. You sighed at his little comment, withdrawing from his forehead to press a soft kiss on the tip of his nose for a moment.

You watched with silent admiration as color rose to his cheeks, blossoming in a soft reddish pink. Then, it spread across his face like a watercolor painting. If only you could save this view forever. You grinned at the sight, your heart swelling with joy. You couldn’t help but kiss him again, overwhelmed by the love you felt for the man in front of you.

What a sight.

JOHNNY CAGE

Your forehead pressed against Johnny Cage’s, and it felt like you were in a movie. Maybe you’ve been watching too many of his movies lately, but you couldn’t help it. You loved supporting him and his passions. The pride he had on being on screen was nearly palpable every time you watched one of his films.

The feeling of being in a movie wasn’t helped with the way your lover was acting.

I mean…the way he was looking at you was pretty much the perfect shot for a movie. Your cheeks warmed up, and you were certain Johnny was bound to notice. Even if he wasn’t looking at your cheeks, his hands were sure to feel how the skin beneath them heated up. Your eyebrows rose up, looking at him a bit confused.

“What? Can’t I look at you?” Johnny inquired, sending you a smile. It wasn’t quite the practiced, perfect smile he sent his fans. No, it was the smile he always sent you. It was a little less perfect, but it was a little more real…a bit more genuine. Best of all, it was just for you. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little at the sight.

By the gods your lover was so pretty. And he sure knew it, but how could you blame him? Looks like that were meant to be shown off. Even still, you were thankful for the small private moments like these were you were allowed to see the parts of him no one else could. It just reminded you of how fortunate you were to be with this man.

Little did you know how much he adored you right back.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but in a light, playful manner. No, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look at you. It just…mystified you why he looked at you like that. Like you were the most valuable thing he had. It felt almost impossible, after he once owned Sento, which he always went on and on about how he spent three million dollars on that. And that wasn’t counting the other countless possessions he had when he was at the peak of his richness.

And yet, despite your reservations on how much you deserved to be looked at like that, the admiration in his eyes made you reconsider. Johnny was always good at convincing you, he just had a way with words. Or sometimes his charisma was enough, much like in this case. His thumb brushed your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks for being my number one fan.” He murmured, pulling back to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. He let out a small laugh, the one that made you feel like you were on top of the world. “I hope you know I’m also your number one fan too.” The actor reminded you, his eyebrows raising to punctuate his point.

You knew that you both were each other’s biggest supporters, and that type of loyalty was priceless.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

You made sure to place your forehead against Kenshi’s softly, trying to be gentle. You smiled at him, even though he could not see it. This was one of the rare few times Kenshi did not have Sento around, letting himself be the most vulnerable. And those times were always with you. He trusted you with his life, so this step wasn’t too farfetched.

“I wish I could see you.” Kenshi murmured his voice mournful. His hands reached up to cup your face. He knew he could always see you with Sento. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you with his own eyes. The swordsman wanted to see you, and your radiant smile in full color. He was grateful for what he gained after his loss, but sometimes he longed for sight just for you.

He supposed he would have to make do with what he could do instead.

Guiding his hands, you settled them on your face and closed your eyes. It was in these rare few moments that you two had a tradition. You were used to this and almost anticipated this every time he set Sento aside and sat down with you alone. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, as if marking out his starting place. Then, he finally began to move his hands. It was slow and deliberate, taking time to memorize every detail of your skin. Every winkle, bump, and mark, he wanted to remember it all.

First his hands moved slightly up. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your ears, refreshing his memory of how they looked by touch alone. Then, it moved higher, noting your hairline with his thumbs. His fingers brushed across your forehead, his thumbs tracing around where your foreheads connected together.

As his fingers reached your closed eyes, they lingered there. No envy coursed through Kenshi’s veins. Instead, only gratefulness swelled throughout the swordsman. He was thankful that you did not also go through the pain of losing your eyes in such a painful way. Leaning forward, he kissed your eyelids with utmost care.

“I want to protect you.” Kenshi whispered, pulling back to reconnect your foreheads. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing that he meant it from the bottom of his heart. His fingers continued to make their way down, tracing your nose before they stopped once again at your lips.

His fingers mapped out the curve of your lips, especially noting the way they curled up to form your fantastic smile. He took a deep breath in, admiring just how soft your lips were underneath his fingertips. By the gods, he could never get over how nice your lips feel. A smile appeared on his own lips as he felt your smile grow.

He always loved your smile. Whether it be seen through Sento or felt through his own hands it warmed his heart. He would do anything to keep it, and you, safe.

And he knew, having you there in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your smile, you would do the same for him.

SYZOTH

Sleepily, you pressed your forehead against Syzoth’s own forehead. Blearily, you opened your eyes to look at the man who slept beside you. He still looked half asleep as well. You looked him over, admiring the sight of the sleepy Zatteran. It was a sight that only you had the privilege to see. A smile appeared on your face as you raised a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbed circles to slowly coax him awake.

Looking over the shoulder of your lover, you noted the sunlight streaming in from behind the parted curtains. It hit Syzoth just perfectly, making him look like he was glowing. For a moment, you wondered if your lover was an angel instead of a Zatteran. You certainly felt blessed enough to have him to believe it. Then, you heard the familiar reptilian grumbles emanate from his chest as his forehead rubbed gently against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Maybe he was both, you thought.

“Let’s just lie here for a bit more.” Syzoth mumbled, his voice laden with sleep. The arms around your waist were squeezing you tightly now, preventing any hope of climbing out of bed to start your day. It was as if you were a stuffed animal for him. You let out a small drowsy laugh, your fingers now pinching his cheek. As much as you adored sleepy mornings with your Zatteran lover, you knew that he had a very important job as the Empress’ emissary. Both of you had responsibilities to get to.

Syzoth simply huffed in response, not even responding with words to your attempt to wake him up. His hand reached up to grab yours. He pulled your hand off of his cheek and instead intertwined it with yours. The simple gesture made your heart melt. You could practically feel him basking in the warmth that you naturally radiated. You sighed as you opened your eyes a bit more, squeezing his hand in an attempt to pull him from dreamland.

“I promise I will get up soon.” Syzoth told you, his eyes now more open. It was almost as if he were awake the entire time, but he just was seeking an excuse to spend more time with you. Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. You had a small idea of what the truth actually was.

You stared up into his stunning green eyes, the sight of them alone almost took your breath away. Combined with the gentle way he spoke, along with the way he looked at you, you easily believed him. Then again, you supposed you would believe anything he told you as long as he looked at you that way.

He could tell you that the sun was gone when it was high into the sky, or that the world was going to end within days and you’d believe him. How could you not when he looked at you that way? You sighed with fake reluctance as you relaxed in his embrace.

Okay, maybe you can sleep in a little longer.

KUAI LIANG

Your forehead settled against Kuai Liang and you enjoyed the warmth you felt from the contact. A smile rose to your lips. How lucky you were to be with a man who knew how to control fire. Equally warm hands reached up to cup your face in a gentle, affectionate way. A bit selfishly, you inched closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Your arms wrapped around him, trying your best to pull him as close as you could towards you. He seemed to notice, his hands pulling you just a tiny bit closer towards him as well.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture. Your lover always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you said nothing.

It was a cold, cold night. The chill of the night crept into your bones, and only the warmth of your lover seemed to abate it. You relaxed and closed your eyes, basking in the way he was naturally warm. It was always a comforting warmth, never the stifling kind that made you fidget. You always swore that you could fall asleep comfortably as long as Kuai Liang was there to warm you to lull you to bed.

Sleeping was something the both of you should be doing, and yet you were instead. You were basking in the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

With the mastery of a man who has been training in discipline all of his life, he heated up his hands carefully. It was almost symbolic. The way he held you so carefully was almost like he was cradling a small flame. Kuai Liang made sure to make it hot enough that you would no longer feel the chill of the night air, but not hot enough to make you uncomfortable, not to even mention hurt you.

The last thing he would want to do is hurt you. You were his everything.

His eyes, those dark brown eyes you loved to look so deeply at, stared at your face. While he normally loved to watch you, after all you were his favorite thing to look at, he now watched you carefully to gauge your reaction. He sought out to see any signs of discomfort or pain. He had to make sure you were feeling as comfortable as possible. After all, you deserve nothing less than the best.

“Is this better, love?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice quiet amidst the silence. There were not many things the man craved. It was a thing he prided himself on, how he was considerably humble, but he couldn’t deny how he longed for your approval. Even in the small things. A breath of relief was released from his chest as he watched you slowly nod yes. “Good.”

It was only then that Kuai Liang allowed a rare smile to appear on his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but to internally swoon over the sight. How could you not? It was so precious and rare. You stared at his smile, trying to sear the image into your mind permanently.

Maybe instead of using his powers he should have just smiled instead. It made you feel warm enough.

BI-HAN

You pressed your forehead against Bi-Han’s, his hands drawing you closer to him. It was quiet in his room, even the quiet breaths between you two seemed almost too loud for the peace. And yet you did not complain. How could you? You were having a private moment with the man everyone swore was made of ice.

“Stay with me.” The man murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. You smiled at his demand, although it was more appropriate to call it a plea. You nodded, not wanting to break the moment of vulnerability you were bestowed. Your hands reached up to cup his face, matching the way he was holding you. He took a deep breath in, as if the next word was a heavy burden. “Please.”

His hands held you in such a specific way. It was careful and loving, but it was in such a way that felt like he was hiding you away from the world. It was not in the way that appeared that he was ashamed, not at all. If anything, Bi-Han was proud to be yours. No, the way he held you was so…private.

It was as if he were shielding the two of you from nonexistent prying eyes. This was a moment to be shared between the two of you, not anyone else. Not even the world itself was allowed to intrude in such a special and sacred moment. Now that was the way Bi-Han held you.

He held you like a treasure he wanted to keep all to himself.

Gone from his face was the usual stern look he wore. Instead it was replaced with a slightly vulnerable softer look. His eyebrows were not furrowed, instead lifted slightly. His eyes felt warm and full of silent admiration for no one else but you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all too lucky to be blessed with such a sight.

His hands, which were normally frosted over, were merely cool to the touch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead the gentle touch with the coolness made your heart flutter. His thumbs traced patterns on your cheeks, as if creating his own little snowflakes on your skin. The normally cold grandmaster’s drop from the eyes he seemed to get lost in a little too often towards your soft and pretty lips.

With a sharp inhale, he lifted his forehead away from yours for a moment. Unable to resist, the cyromancer placed a gentle kiss against your lips. His breath when he pulled away was cool against your lips.

In this moment of vulnerability, he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his lips.

You swallowed, your eyes zeroing right onto the smile. How rare it was, how precious. How could you not help but gawk and admire? Despite your lover being a man who wielded ice, you found yourself melting all too easily into his gentle touches.

“Thank you for being here.” He murmured again, allowing himself to bare yet another part of his soul to you. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones and he knew the motion was answer enough. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax into your touch.

This was truly a moment that only you two were allowed to witness.

TOMAS VRBADA

As your forehead connected with Tomas’, you heard a sigh of exhaustion leave his lips. His arms draped around you lazily, almost having not enough energy to keep them around you. You let his weight lean onto you, almost letting the man nearly collapse on top of you. Another sigh left his lips as your hands kept his face close. It was almost as if you were keeping him up with your hands alone, at this point.

His eyes were shut, and you could see the hints of exhaustion begin to peek through his perfect face. As much as you knew he loved his new duties for the clan, you also knew he was beginning to hit his limits. Your thumb ran carefully across his face, almost like a little massage. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face at the little gesture.

“Training initiates are hard.” Tomas mumbled, and your heart nearly broke at how utterly tired he sounded. Even despite his exhaustion, you could tell the passion he had for his responsibilities. Still, it worries you no less. You hummed, an acknowledgement of his tiredness. You felt him lean a little more into your touch, allowing himself to indulge within the small moment you were sharing with him.

His arms moved around you a little less languidly, as if he found a second wind within your presence. And it was true, just being around you was enough to give him the strength to do more than he thought he could. Oftentimes when he felt like collapsing he thought of you waiting for him, and it gave him just enough energy to make it back into your arms every single day.

With another sigh he pulled you closer, a sense of greediness in his actions. You let him, indulging him. His smile grew a bit as he nuzzled your nose against yours slowly. A laugh left your lips at the action, and Toma’s heart couldn’t help but leap at the sound. Just your laugh was enough to re-energize him. Did you know how much you meant to him?

“Thank you for waiting for me.” Tomas said, his voice dripping with all the love he held for you. He knew that sometimes you would wait long stretches of time for him to return after every day ever since he was entrusted with more responsibilities. You never complained, never whined, you just welcomed him back every day with open arms.

He could ask for nothing more.

With a little chuckle, he squeezed you tightly. It was as if he was trying to show you how much he adored you, just how grateful he was with one giant hug. For that, you rewarded him with a small kiss, featherlight, right above his left eyebrow on his scar. It was a gesture Tomas swooned over. Even if you could not remove the scar itself, you could at least imbue better memories associated with it.

Even if he was given the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders, he would not complain as long as he had you to return to every night.

SHANG TSUNG

Your forehead pressed against Shang Tsung’s and suddenly it felt like the world didn’t matter. Your eyes closed, a sign of trust that Shang Tsung truly didn’t deserve. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing you to pull yourself close to the sorcerer. His arms, meanwhile, draped in a most elegant manner around you.

In these small moments where you closed your eyes, Shang Tsung truly let himself indulge in the beauty that was you. His eyes scanned your face, noting all the features that truly made you one of a kind. All the little things that you perceived as quirks and imperfections seemed only to create a masterpiece for him. For a man who has been condemned to a life of misery by the universe, he was fortunate that it was kind enough to let him meet you.

As your eyes fluttered open, the man had to reel himself back in. His gaze, though still soft, became just the tiniest bit more guarded. His smile which had been so genuine became just a little more precise and practiced. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show any love, far from it. But he had to remember that with the ambitions and plans he held, he had to just be a little more protective of himself. It’d be simply foolish to show just how much he adored you.

Everyday with you, however, the cracks were getting harder and harder to conceal.

“You look simply amazing my dear.” Shang Tsung complimented, raising a careful hand to stroke your cheek. Despite his compliment, that was not how he felt. He felt more for you, and you had no idea. You were stunning, gorgeous, divine, so much more than just amazing. But even all the words he could think of to describe you was not sufficient enough. For now, just amazing would do.

Your smile, which you blessed him with, had his heart aflutter. Before meeting you, Shang Tsung had little reservations about using others for his own gain. Others were simply an end to a means for him. And yet, with you, the idea of lumping you with the others he was quite ready to dispose of made him feel uneasy.

You were much more than just another stepping stone. Oh, but if the world were to know about his weakness for you, the universe would cast their cruel eyes upon you next. Selfish as the sorcerer was in keeping the truth of how deep his feelings were for you, he also saw it as a blessing. As long as the universe did not scorn you the way it did him, it was enough for now.

Letting the mask facade of how he felt slip just a touch, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. With pride and satisfaction he felt your cheeks heat up just for him. Sometimes it comforted him to know that you felt perhaps a fraction of the love he truly held for you.

Maybe one day, just maybe, he’d finally let you know just how much power you had over him and his heart.

MILEENA

Your forehead pressed against Mileena’s, and you wished it was enough to drive the whispers away. In the privacy of your shared chambers, it was quiet. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of the throne and the doubters of your lover that you so loathed. Your hands reached up to cup her pretty face that you adored, looking into her eyes.

A smile was on her face. It was a weary one. You knew while Mileena strove to be the best Empress she could be, and took great pride in it, she often was tired by the end of the day because of it. Even if it was not physically, the mental toll of being on top of such a throne was tough work. You did not envy the burden she shouldered, but there were times you wished you could share the burden of it just so she can rest a little bit better.

You knew you could not, so you did whatever else you could instead.

You moved your forehead away to press a few kisses to her forehead, wishing so desperately that it would abate the worries of doubt that were planted in her head. If not that, you hoped that your kisses at least passed along some of your own energy so she could power through. You wondered, for a moment, if it was possible to do that. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones, and you wondered silently to yourself how you were so lucky to become her lover. You nearly missed the adoring gleam in her eyes, and it was a look that made your breath catch.

“I’ll prove those doubters wrong, don’t worry.” Your empress promised, her voice fueled with the determination of a woman who has been scorned. You smiled, knowing she had been able to read you and your thoughts like a book. To be so in sync with your lover was a blessing you were ever thankful for. As an acknowledgement of her words, you gave her another kiss, this time pressing it upon the scar that went through her eyebrow.

You never doubted Mileena’s prowess. She had so much drive, how could you not? And yet, if you could, you would do anything to silence the doubters. How dare they question her rule, how could they not see the wonderful woman who was born to rule? You often told yourself, to calm yourself down, that they were merely jealous of your lover.

“There is nothing more I need than you to be by my side, dearest.” Mileena told you, her fingers tracing your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew in that moment that if you could, you would stay by her side to always cheer her on. She didn’t even need to ask you.

You grabbed her hands, intertwining them with yours. You squeezed them tightly, trying to pour all the encouragement that you could not find enough words for in that one action. She returned the squeeze, a content sigh leaving her lips as her smile grew.

Maybe you couldn’t help with every trouble she had, but you could at least make her smile…and maybe that was just enough.

KITANA

You pressed your forehead against Kitana’s brow, and finally you felt your worries dissipate. It was hard to be the lover of a Supreme Commander. Every day you feared for your lover’s life. It was not as if you doubted her prowess on the battlefield. It was far from that, you thought she was the best fit for Supreme Commander after all. Even if she was the best fit, you sometimes selfishly wished that someone else would take her place so she could stay safe.

You have never confessed this selfish little secret to her.

It was just that…war was cruel. You’ve heard and known the horrors of war and how death doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes accidents happen, or a death can come out of nowhere. You feared that one day it might take the best thing you have in your life.

But now you didn’t need to worry, because now she was back and in your arms. You let out a sigh as you pressed your forehead a little more towards her. Meanwhile, your fingers traced the injuries she had suffered from the skirmishes she had gone through. You noted how the bandages from the medics were fresh. Your heart squeezed at the sight of them. If only civil war was not looming over Outworld, then she would not have to sacrifice herself out there on the battlefield.

“It’s okay, I’m safe.” Kitana whispered, dragging you out of your worrying mind. Her fingers traced your cheek, and she looked at you with a gentle gaze. You marveled at her ability to whisk away your worries. Looking into her eyes alone calmed you down and made you feel like everything was alright. You wished you could do the same for her. Her other hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently. You noted how her hands were still remarkably soft for a woman who goes to war. A soft smile appeared on her face, and you could not help the way that your heart raced.

Words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to express the utter amount of love you felt for the princess. How could you express these overwhelming feelings that threatened to consume you? You figured it was impossible to ever express just how much she meant to you with words alone. Instead, you moved to press a few kisses on her injuries. If only you had the ability to heal her wounds just like that. Did she know you would do that for her? A light laugh left Kitana’s lips at your actions, and you swooned over the sound.

“I appreciate you.” She said, her voice light with the remnants of the laughter she had blessed upon you. Her hand squeezed yours again to punctuate her point. You smiled at her, wanting to ingrain the sight of her being happy and by your side forever into your mind. Your thumb rubbed small circles on her hand.

Maybe she had to go to war, it was a harsh reality you’ve accepted, but as long as she returned to be in your arms…that would be enough.

ASHRAH

Your forehead pressed against Ashrah’s, and the music in the background made the moment feel just perfect. A wide smile appeared on your face as you guided your lover through a slow dance. You watched with joy as your lover’s eyes were wide with admiration as you led her through the dance. You wondered for a moment if she knew how much you adored her in return. Surely she didn’t, how could she? The both of you swayed back and forth, enjoying the intimate moment.

“There was nothing like this back in the Netherrealm.” Ashrah marveled, a smile that made your heart melt on her lips. It was the very same smile she would give you every time you showed her the joys of Earthrealm. You could never tire of the sight, and you knew you’d do anything to see it over and over again.

That was exactly why you introduced her to the idea of slow dancing. You knew she would have probably never experienced anything like this. And you were right. You were honored to be her first ever dance partner. The twinkle in her eye showed that she was just as happy to have you guiding her through this dance.

Together with the memories you formed together, you knew she was creating more and more of a home within this realm. You hoped that you were included in her idea of home.

A laugh left your lips as you pulled her close, craving more contact. Despite her dexterity in combat, she was not used to dancing. Chuckles left the both of you as you stumbled a bit, tripping over each other’s feet. Luckily, she did not fall. Instead, you held her tightly. You gripped her hip tightly, making sure she was steady.

“Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ashrah apologized after her laughter died down. You found you could only grin and shake your head at her apology. You two were out here to create memories and have fun, not to dance perfectly for anyone else. She could step on your toes every few seconds and you could care less. Her laughter alone made up for any mistakes she made. “Thank you for showing me these Earthrealm customs.”

Anytime, you thought. Honestly, you would do anything for her. It was hard to believe she was a demon with a heart as pure as her’s. You didn’t care though. Her past as a demon was often a source of confusion and concern for others, but never for you. All that mattered was who she was now, and she was simply fantastic.

“I think I quite like dancing.” Ashrah commented, pressing a light kiss upon your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at her with eyes full of adoration. How could you not swoon over her? You returned the favor, pressing a few light kisses all over her face. You couldn’t help it. Another melodic laugh left her lips.

Yeah, you think you like dancing too.

HAVIK

Your forehead bumped against Havik’s and you enjoyed the moment of serenity that was brought with it. You watched as your lover’s eyes closed, a rare moment in which he allowed himself to relax. You couldn’t help but to feel honored by the small gesture. He was always fighting, striving to fight for what his ideals were, but around you the man felt no need.

You eyed his scars, the ones he had gotten as a slave. Carefully, you reached out to brush your fingers against his scars. The care you put into the touch was not necessary, you knew Havik was strong and a simple brush against them would not break the man. Yet it felt it was necessary, These were reminders of his harsh past, a memory of why he was out there, fighting.

Honestly, all of him was a canvas. You knew very well that your lover was capable of healing his wounds ever since he met Quan Chi. Had he wanted, you knew he could repair the wounds he had gained through all of his life. But he didn’t. His body was his story. Every bump, bruise, cut that left a mark became like a stroke of paint. You couldn’t help but adore how he kept his imperfections. Not many would.

“Most don’t realize why I keep those around.” Havik grunted. There was a sense of frustration in his tone, no one else but you understood the vision he saw for the future, let alone understood the way he thought. You knew though. Even if he were to forget everything about you, he knew he would recognize your understanding from the reverence you carried when you traced the past injuries he wore like a badge. Only others who understood his ideals for the future would do the same.

You also knew that he thought it looked more fearsome. A burnt and scarred man was much more striking than a normal man. Your fingers trailed up his body, mapping out the locations of his injuries with your touch. Then, you let your fingers rest on his jawline right below where his flesh turned into exposed gums and teeth.

“You understand me.” Your lover said, his voice filled with the same amount of admiration for you as it did when he spoke of his vision for Seidou. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat as you realized that fact. You bumped your forehead gently against his again. Seeing as he had no lips to kiss, the two of you had settled on forehead bumping instead.

You felt Havik raise a hand, his touch gentle as it gripped your chin. He wasn’t known for gentle touches or gestures, but you were the exception. Softly, he bumped his forehead against yours again. Then, he rubbed it back and forth affectionately. You were, perhaps, the only person in the world he would allow himself to be this quaint with.

It was all for you, the one who he considered to be a true partner.

CASSIE CAGE

Your forehead settled against Cassie’s, and suddenly you were disinterested in the movie in the background. Instead, you were far too preoccupied with the sight of your lover and how radiant she looked with the colors of the television shining against her skin. How was it that every type of color seemed to compliment her perfectly?

“I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie.” Cassie teased, her eyebrows raising as she sent you a playful grin. She was a hypocrite though, as her attention was more on you rather than the movie she had picked out. Her arm was slung around your shoulders and you were cuddled close together on the couch.

Today was one of her rare days off. Ever since she got promoted, she’s been busier than ever. And yet, there were moments you two managed to find and relax together. Tonight was supposed to be movie night, you let her pick anything she wanted…as long as it wasn’t one of her dad’s films. She rolled her eyes at your little stipulation, but agreed. Your lover saw enough of her dad at work.

Even with your little agreement, you found yourself entranced with Cassie more. I mean, how could you not be? Her smile just seemed to be more eye-catching than anything Hollywood could produce. You were so entranced by her, in fact, that you didn’t notice the hand that snuck up to pinch your cheek. You jolted in surprise, letting out a small laugh.

“Thought I lost you there!” Your lover giggled, her hand now cupping your cheek instead. Her thumb gently rubbed over the part she had pinched, as if to soothe it. She let out a small sigh as she moved to nuzzle your cheek before giving it an affectionate smooch. “You know, Grandma Carlton has been dying to meet you.” She confessed, her voice going a touch sentimental.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt excitement course through your veins. Has Cassie been telling good things about you to her grandmother? Upon seeing your giddy expression, she squeezed your shoulder with the hand that laid upon it.

“Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Cassie asked, and you felt like you were falling all over again. Cassie must have taken acting lessons at one point, because she knew exactly how to make you swoon as if she were the lead in a movie. Her eyes glimmered with affection as she pressed another kiss to your cheek.

A laugh that revitalized your soul came from your lover as you returned the favor and gave her a soft kiss back. In the midst of her laughter, you vaguely heard her mention how you were both definitely missing out on the plot. You didn’t care though, you were too busy admiring the real beauty in front of you.

Who needed movies? All you needed was Cassie, and you had a feeling she didn’t mind missing out too just for you.

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colleendoran · 1 year

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How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 months

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Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts.

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her.

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were.

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you.

“Potter” you smirked.

“Going to the match today?”

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him.

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall.

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended.

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted.

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you.

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted.

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate.

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag.

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag.

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled.

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?”

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates.

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused.

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate.

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain.

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said.

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?”

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked.

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously.

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged.

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?”

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate.

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious.

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added.

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused.

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled.

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended.

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!”

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?”

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy.

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?”

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled.

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor.

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly.

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face.

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you.

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged.

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented.

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled.

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James.

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you.

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said.

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?”

“Okay, fair” you sighed.

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress.

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her.

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you.

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup.

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said.

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little.

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled.

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled.

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?”

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little.

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered.

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror.

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly.

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled.

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm.

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first.

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked.

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him.

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!”

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted.

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him.

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-”

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated.

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you.

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him.

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?”

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said.

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little.

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted.

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added.

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden.

“Nothing” Remus quickly said.

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?”

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself.

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously.

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink.

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes.

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him.

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets. You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well.

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you.

“Oh” you smiled wearily.

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said.

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head.

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved.

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside.

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused.

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused.

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added.

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off.

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added.

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you.

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink.

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window.

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around.

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you.

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little.

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself.

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little.

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?”

“Of course I did” he chuckled.

“James” you glared at him.

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you.

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed.

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged.

“James!” you laughed.

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted.

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed.

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way.

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?”

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?”

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious.

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly.

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted.

“But how can you not believe me about that?”

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink.

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?”

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly.

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop.

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile.

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus.

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously.

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained.

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips.

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

#marauders #marauders imagine #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #sirius black x sister!reader #regulus black x sister!reader #james potter oneshot

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yyawnjun · 5 months

Text

BUTTONS

seventeen!95'lines × reader (separately)

summary: according to an ancient story, the greatest way to confess to the girl you love is to give her the top button of your uniform. Knowing thus tradition, here's how I think S.coups, Jeonghan and Joshua would confess their love.

comments, like and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. I hope y'all will like it ♡

high school romance ; fluff!! ; 2.6k wc ; I am so weak for them 😭 ; @kflixnet

thank u so much to my fav girl @sobun1est for proofreading this (she deserves the world AND a confession by S.coups asap !!)

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL [ 최승철 ]

Choi Seungcheol. The school slacker. The first time you heard his name was when the science teacher begged you to help him with his finals. He needed help in all scientific subjects, such as math, physics, bio, and chemistry… but from what was said, he was considered hopeless. The first time you met him, he was wearing a pajama - because he refused to “be like the others” wearing the uniform - and kept chewing gum while listening to music while you were trying your best to help him with his math homework.

From that very first moment, you understood why everyone thought he was considered a desperate case. In the first week, he did not listen to you at all, not even glancing at you, he had arrived late and left after less than an hour.

Over time he started to look at you and listen to you. He started to admire your patience, your passion, your focused look as you wrote, your clear voice as you explained, your optimism, and your kind heart...

At the same time, you also started to become attached to him when he first showed the will to improve his situation. Indeed after a week, he bought his first pencil, after two weeks he bought a schoolbag, and after a month he even had a collector with all of the subjects - it was quite well organized at the end of the third month.

His appearance improved during those months: his eyes appeared less tired, his hair wasn't greasy anymore, and he even wore half of the uniform.

On Monday, the results of the final exams had just arrived. It was 9 a.m. - still very early, as they would not display the result posters until 11 a.m. - when your science teacher called you with Seungcheol.

You both came out of your respective classes and as soon as you arrived in front of the teacher, she almost started tearing up with happiness at the news she wanted to announce to you. S.coups, as you had learned to call him by now, had passed all his exams. These were the exact words spoken to you by the professor. She almost jumped up and hugged you, but you were more focused on the proud smile that adorned your friend's face. Indeed by now, you were friends.

After hearing the news, to celebrate you opted to go for a bite to eat at the café near the school after class. That café where you first met when it all started is now filled with your happy chatter.

Having the time to be with him for more hours on that day, you were able to notice so many other details of the new S.coups. He had a rested face, a lot of energy in his speech, brighter eyes, and even an almost complete uniform - he had promised you that he would wear it perfectly only on the last day of school. After some time, he also managed to thank you from the bottom of his heart, and you to gain more confidence in your teaching abilities.

So, the last day of school had arrived, the last goodbyes, hugs, chats, and farewells before the end. But on that very full day, you had by no means forgotten your promise.

In fact, after saying goodbye to your friends, you moved to look for the boy. Thirty minutes had now passed, but nothing. You were about to give un helieving that you had overemphasized what had been between you. You turned to leave until a deep, masculine voice came to your ears that you now knew very well from hearing him repeat all the rules possible and imaginable.

You turned and saw him in all his glory. The sun was shining on his face, and his hair styled with was barely moving in the wind. His eyes were smiling, and he was still shouting your name to indicate his location. Only when he was closer, did you notice that he was wearing his uniform.

His eyes and chest were filled with pride, his smile was proud, and his happiness was more alive than ever. After a quick hug, he pointed out his uniform to you - emphasizing how uncomfortable it was and how much he had done it for you. With dreamy eyes, you stared into his eyes, and he accepted the challenge. Time and space around you appeared still, it was only you and him. But shortly, your eye was drawn to a detail in his clothing. A button was missing from his clothing, the first one from the top, and it was clear that it had been detached.

He noticed the movement of your gaze and your puzzlement. But before you could say anything, he had put the missing button in front of your face. As if to prevent you from doubting him and his promises to you.

"I read that giving the first button of one's uniform to the loved girl is a way of confession," he told you.

"Oh, your romantic side," and before you could ask him any more questions, he shushed you for the second time - like he used to do proudly when he explained the lesson he had learned because of you.

"Here, this is for you," he said handing you the button. In the end, he kept his promise: he was in his perfect (uni)form, wearing his school uniform and demonstrating his love to you.

YOON JEONGHAN [ 윤정한 ]

Yoon Jeonghan was taller than you, his eyes were brown as hazelnut and his hair black as ebony, his skin was flawless and his smile was always feeble. Although his sneaky character did not match his angel and kind appearance. From the teacher’s point of view, he was the perfect, smart, and angelic student. To everyone, he was the popular, handsome, and cocky boy. To you, he was something more.

You two had many classes together during high school, and you managed to learn more about him. Even if you did not speak much to him, you caught another side of him. Behind his angel appearance and presumptuous acting was a gentle boy. That gentle boy that made you lose your mind for him. You noticed once how he helped a guy who was being bullied or another time when he stayed until 11 pm in the library to help a girl with her math homework.

So time passed and he quickly became your crush, someone you would always look at and admire from afar. You can’t say that he did not like attention, because he did. But he liked them only when they focused on the things he wanted - like his appearance, his carelessness, his intelligence. He did not want to expose too much of his kind side and you always wondered why, and the more you knew about him the more you started to like him.

One-side love, mh? That was what you kept reminding yourself while observing him from afar. Many gorgeous girls and boys liked him openly, but he always ended up rejecting them; so you chose to stay silent and watch him from afar.

On one hand, it was nice to have someone to romanticize, someone to think about before bed, or when you needed to cheer up. But immediately after that comfortable feeling, a melancholy one showed up. But it's the one-sided love, isn't it?

So the years passed, you changed, and your crush on him got stronger. Until the last days before the end of high school. When you found yourself, on the last Monday in high school, on a fresh summer night - instead of studying - focusing on the choice of the words for the anonymous letter you would have given to him tomorrow.

He did not want to expose too much of his kind side and you always wondered why, and the more you knew about him the more you started to like him.You closed it at 10 am before putting it in his lock. As soon as you did, a huge weight lifted from your consciousness, making room for another.

He had seen you secretly place something in his locker. Because after you put the letter Jeonghan saw you, YN.

Yn, the one who won his heart since his freshman year of high school. The one who had been on his mind for years, and as much as he didn't want it, the heart decided on its own. He instinctively came closer to see what it was, but you quickly moved away. After a week, you went from wanting to confess to wanting to die to hide your feelings for him.

Your week was no different from his. Until Friday, the last day of school. Your heart lightened when all the exams - and the high school years with them - were over. The day was going beautifully, and you had stopped one last time to look at your - now ex-school. The others had slowly left, it was late afternoon, and you would have to go soon too. So many memories mixed with laughter and tears, so many regrets mixed with victories and disappointments.

Lost in your thoughts, you did not notice that he reached you. You were startled when someone patted your shoulder. He had arrived in silence, and without speaking he made so much noise in your heart that it started beating wildly. You looked at him awkwardly... since the day he saw you put the love letter into his locker, you had only given each other fleeting glances.

He kept not saying a word and looked down at his uniform. The sound of the button being detached from the uniform was the first sound you had heard since his arrival. Still, in disbelief, you didn't move. He took your hand and placed the button in it.

He smiled at you, with the faint smile of him - the one that you loved so intensely - with those hazel eyes that had drawn you, he patted your head, and without saying anything he turned to leave. Was this perhaps his way of confessing… Wait, was he confessing?

Your surprised look was replaced by a huge smile, and your heart kept beating rapidly - but not anymore only for the love tension, now even for the exhaustion of running as you chased him, demanding answers, confessions, and maybe something more...

HONG JISOO [ 홍지수 ]

Everyone knew who Hong Jisoo was. Everyone called him Joshua, and he was known as one of the nicest and kindest boys at school. However, he was so kind that people easily took advantage of him. Starting with occasional help with English homework, solving math problems, and planning for free private lessons several times per week.

Initially, he was happy that he could help everyone and was flattered when girls came to him with long letters that showed to be a mix of a confession of love and thanks for the school's help.

However, the more he gave of himself to others, the less of himself left. Joshua was gradually wearing himself out. He was so focused on others that he had forgotten about himself.

He thought about this for the first time as he left for school, with music in his ears as he finished tying up his uniform. Just as he was about to do so, he realized it was missing again the top button. The one that was meant to be given to the girl he loved. Instead, someone stole it for him when he had left his uniform in class for PE class.

It was the third time that week, but he had gradually accepted it because he didn't know who was responsible. He kept reminding himself that school would be over in a week. He could bear with it, right? So he arrived at school, greeted everyone with his usual cheerful smile, and sat down. Resigned that he would be without a button for one more day.

Or so he thought. In his underbench was a rosy cloth tissue, with a brand-new button inside and a small note saying: Take care of yourself.

The gesture made him smile immensely and soothed his troubled soul. Who on earth could it have been? Who on earth could have noticed what had happened to him?

And as his curiosity increased, so did your beats as you watched him bask in the happiness of having found your gift for him. Indeed, you had long noticed how much he was a victim of others' exploitation.

And once, after you had asked him who his love was - referring to the missing button - he had told you that someone had even taken the button off his uniform.

Since then you began to feel closer to that boy, who appeared perfect and cheerful from a distance. And you had decided to help him secretly and from a distance. And you realized that was great; seeing him happy after finding the button had already brightened your day.

The day had gone by swiftly, and you had exchanged a few words with him as usual. He had been gentle as always and proudly wore the button given to him.

The daily hour of PE arrived, and for the fourth time, his button was stolen.

This time it hurt him a bit more because it was a gift; you could see a blank expression on his face, a dull grin, and a suppressed anger with clenched teeth. That day he returned home earlier than everyone.

But the next day - the last day of school - you put for the second time a button on a pink tissue for him. “I am on your side; take care of yourself!” That was the new note you'd left on his desk.

As soon as he saw it, he hurried back to the school tailor's class and sewed it tightly to his uniform with a needle and thread.

Because it was the last day of school, you were both happy with the end of the tests, and your day went well until the last hour. You did not do PE, so you stayed in class and napped on your desk.

You did it to rest but also tried to catch the button thief in the act. It had been a few minutes since you heard the classroom door open and saw who had come. You quickly took a picture, scaring the thief away, but the robbery had already happened, and the button was missing again. Anger welled up in your veins after Joshua's button was stolen for the umpteenth time.

Without thinking about it, you pulled off the first button on your uniform, and with the sewing kit you always carried with you, you put it on his uniform.

Just in time for when your classmates returned to class.

You knew it was a button from the girl's uniform, but you hoped that he would not pay too much attention to it. And so it seemed, for he had said nothing and had only put his uniform back on.

So high school had ended, and you were heading home free of stress and negative feelings. When you heard someone call out your name.

You stopped and turned around; it was Joshua. He was running toward you waving his hand. "There's something I want to give you." He told you as he caught his breath after catching up with you.

"I think you know the legend of the button given to the loved one - and you nodded as your heart rate grew, was this what you thought was going on? - Here. Here it is the button as an act of my love and gratitude for your kindness, which quietly brightened my day."

With that said, he approached your face and very carefully began stitching up the missing button on your uniform with one of his own.

On a pleasant summer day, you two confessed your love with a button exchange, hand in hand, and excitement in your heart.

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wordsinhaled · 9 months

Text

“I need you” isn’t “I love you,” and it isn’t “Yes, let’s go off together,” but the thing is, it might as well be. And it might be one of the more honest things Aziraphale has ever said.

He has never said it aloud before now. Not like this, with eons worth of raucous indignant feeling crawling up into his throat. He had not wanted, not expected to say it like this, mocked by his own stricken reflection in Crowley's sunglasses, each lens a dark mirror.

"I—I need you," says Aziraphale, and his voice breaks down the middle. It might as well, for he's confessed too late. Crowley is shut to him, recedes from him like a wave broken on the terrible bedrock of Aziraphale's futile stubbornness.

And still, even like this, Aziraphale needs him.

His presence, his constancy. His unfailing, tenacious friendship.

Crowley’s kindness, his softness, his solicitousness under the prickly façade Aziraphale sees is just that—a layer that can be so easily peeled away to reveal the deep core of caring beneath, too entrenched to be deserved by any world they could live in. He needs Crowley’s unguarded gaze, needs the way Crowley’s forever looking at him across distances when he thinks Aziraphale doesn’t notice: chin tilted up, eyes soft as marigold petals.

A phone call away whenever anything or nothing at all happens is Crowley’s dear voice; his lovely dry humor; his sauntering, slithering, improbable walk despite which he somehow flawlessly falls into step alongside Aziraphale anywhere and all the time. His hip knocking against Aziraphale’s, casual as anything and yet so much more than. Flashes of black and wisps of red flitting in and out of Aziraphale’s periphery for thousands of years.

He needs their circuitous arguments, their winding ethical debates—after most of which they somehow end up on the same side, that is, their own side, terrifying and exhilarating in its Promethean familiarity—and Crowley’s chaotically-sure moral compass. The times Crowley is braver than Aziraphale could ever be; and the times Crowley reminds him of how brave he actually always has been.

And Aziraphale needs even the great big awful rows, the ones that end in their standing on opposite verges of another chasm of their own making. Because the culmination of such a fight is always the meeting again in the middle. It’s the low sweeping bow of their apology, a ritual not half earnest for all its facetiousness, which says so much without either of them having to utter a word. Crowley holds a whole conversation in the dip of his fiery head and the exaggerated flutter of his elegant wrists, when it’s his turn; and, when it’s Aziraphale’s, the hashing-out of differences is there in the way he executes each familiar movement with the practiced ease of a faithful courtier, though it’s been ages since he stood in any king’s court.

He needs the knowledge that they always forgive each other. Because, well, they do. They must. They will. What’s a spat or a quarrel or even a proper falling-out to two beings like them, to him and Crowley?

Aziraphale needs Crowley’s happiness. His truest happiness. If that isn't the crux of it all, what is?

He remembers the ancient light of Crowley's joy, how it had shone once about both of them like an aura through the blackness of undeveloped space. It never left, all that bright, barely reined-in giddiness, all that frenetic energy, but he's transmuted it, magpie-like, into something else. Aziraphale can sense it whenever Crowley brings him a new vintage record to add to his collection. Whenever Crowley pulls out Aziraphale’s chair for him outside Marguerite's, or orders just what he likes for him at the Ritz. Whenever he drops into the shop unannounced with a little box tucked under his arm, full of gorgeous petits fours from the new bakery Aziraphale hasn’t yet tried, and says, gleeful, Ohhh, you wouldn’t believe all the wiling I had to do to get my hands on these, angel. You’ll have to thwart me for this, I know. But first—no, no, no, first! The only sensible thing for you to do would be to try them… you’ll like the pear macaron...

And of course Crowley is right. He's right about most things, isn't he, after all? Because Crowley knows him, and he needs to be known, but it simply wouldn't do for anyone else to be the one doing the knowing.

Aziraphale likes the pear macaron, just as Crowley knew he would.

He likes all the things that come along with Crowley, really. The fast car, oh yes, sleek and stylishly classic and so very Crowley through and through, though Aziraphale has committed staunchly to grousing about it. The way no companionable silence held in Crowley's company is ever truly silent. The jaunts to the park on seasonable days: Crowley's touch lingering where he pours frozen peas for the ducks into Aziraphale's cupped palm; the fondness in Crowley's tone poorly disguised as he points out his favorite mated pair trawling placidly across the pond. The drinking together long past the small hours of the morning in the back room of the bookshop, where the walls are the same warm ochre shade as Crowley’s eyes.

It isn't ever so much about the drinking as it is about the together bit. How the space between them dwindles with the syrupy passage of time. How Crowley softens and melts into the settee. How he becomes Aziraphale's to watch, for once. How he grows so wondrously relaxed and gloriously at home there in Aziraphale's space that Aziraphale begins to wonder if this will at last be the night Crowley does not, eventually, get up and retreat back to his Bentley to take himself away again...

There is always that fragile little moment, right after sobering up, when everything in their universe seems at the same time to be entirely too set in stone and entirely too much as though it all hangs by one delicate, dissembling thread. Always the split second in which Aziraphale looks into Crowley's guileless face and remembers he could unravel everything with a single tug.

Yes, one sharp tug on the lapels of Crowley's jacket would do it, he knows. How easily it could be done... Tumble the two of them into one another, just then, and they would never be parted again. And his deft-tongued Crowley would lick the heat and the aftertaste of Talisker into Aziraphale's mouth, then, before it had the chance to dissipate completely.

He could. He could.

It's in those stretched milliseconds, brimming with a tender longing so acute it tips right over into an agony, that Aziraphale realizes: I do need all of you, darling, don't I? So terribly much it might unmake me one day. Never mind Aziraphale's most fickle and blustering attempts at denial, he knows this to be true as he knows the truth of little else in the cosmos.

And perhaps today is that day—the day Aziraphale will dissolve and be remade in the permanent shape of lack.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #don't mind me just thinking about aziraphale all alone up in heaven without any distractions missing crowley

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gilbirda · 20 days

Text

Personal coach Red Hood

Idea by @impyssadobsessions where Jazz needs a personal trainer from a gotham hero and chooses red hood. Eventual ship content. This is more of a setting so far but i have ideas. I accept ideas too, im just balling

I'm going to try a more chill and lax posting with this bad boy. I feel like my rigid way of organizing is making me feel restricted so this will be 1000% vibes and let's see where it goes.

Part 2

---

Jazz knew this was a stupid idea. Dangerous. Suicidal, maybe, depending on who would answer her call. But she still had to try.

You may be wondering how a twenty something young woman ends up following Gotham heroes around with a notepad. She wasn’t looking for an autograph, or for the latest scoop on the heroes, trying to uncover their secrets.

She was actually writing down their patterns and observations in behavior, trying to map their patrol routes and create a decent enough file and expectations of the heroes.

What did she need the information for?

She needed a personal trainer.

No, not the kind you hire at the gym. She already tried that and it didn’t work. She also tried MMA, and kickboxing and just to see if she could do it, Judo. All were interesting and gave her a pretty good picture of what her body was capable of, and a guesstimate of her physical limitations.

But no. She needed something else, something more… tailored for what she actually needed the training for.

She needed to intern with a hero. The term “sidekick” felt wrong for what she had in mind, since she didn’t want to be that hero’s trainee forever. Or was interested in the current superhero scene at all. They were doing just fine without her.

She just… she felt left out. Danny was amazing but he didn’t need her, not as much as she would have liked. He was a hero, and a pretty good one, but he wasn’t in any place to train her. Not that he wanted to, since he usually avoided her every time she brought it up.

Her baby brother was all grown up and he didn’t need his older sister anymore.

Jazz shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Danny would always need her — she just needed to do her homework and keep up with him on her own. If she just trained enough and could hold her own in ghost fights, she was sure Danny would be grateful and appreciate her support. Who knows, maybe he would be happy that he didn’t need to be wary of ghosts day and night, and actually rest and focus on his neglected studies.

She yawned, lamenting another night that looked to be a bust. Maybe the heroes were busy tonight? Maybe they were on a big mission away? Unlikely that all of them were away, there were usually at least a few of the Bats flying around the city.

Why Gotham, you may ask? Of all the funny-dressed crime fighters on Earth, why these people?

Easy.

They were human.

That piqued Jazz’s interest. She had been between the Arrows and the Bats, but finally chose the Bats because Gotham had one perk over Star City: unlimited supply of ectoplasm. The place was almost as coated in the thing as Amity, which she was grateful for. It saved her from going back and forth to places rich with ghost activity and fishing blobs to eat.

Don’t ask too many questions about the consuming blob ghosts part. It was a necessary evil.

However, it’s been a few months and all she got to show for her efforts was a notepad filled with scribbles she painstakingly copied to her computer and a lot of frustration.

Until one night she caught Red Hood alone as he checked his phone. She waited until he was done texting — she had manners thank you very much — and jumped in front of him before he had the chance to grapple away.

“Hi— oof.”

Thanks the ancients for her reflexes and Judo training, she blocked Hood's punch and following kick. It would probably bruise but it wasn't the end of the world.

“What the fuck?”

“Hi,” she tried again, “I'm Jazz.”

He didn't punch her again, which she took as a good sign. Instead, he took a step back and squared up like he was expecting a fight.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he scoffed but let her continue speaking, “I’m looking for… I guess you’d call it a mentor? That sounds weird… A personal trainer? No, that’s wrong too. Hm, I wonder if there’s a word for ‘person who is the only one that can teach you very specific information in a field of interest that legally, or otherwise—’.”

Red Hood cleared his throat, making her jump.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah? I am real.”

Hood looked at her in silence for a few moments. Then, he sighed and rubbed one gloved hand against his helmet.

“Listen, girl.”

“Jazz!”

“Jazz,” somehow she got the impression he grumbled, but the voice modulator did its job really well, “I have things to do, ok? Crimes to stop and stuff. So… yeah. Goodnight.”

He turned around and picked the grapple gun from inside his jacket.

“Wait!”

He jumped and misfired the gun, hitting the wall of the building instead of the roof, like he was supposed to. As the gun recalled the rope, he looked over his shoulder at her. Jazz understood he was glaring at her, she could feel the daggers on her skin.

“Hear me out, ok?” He didn’t move or said anything. “I need— I have tried hiring a trainer, at… back at the gym. You know? But that wasn’t enough. I think I need to train with an actual hero—”

“Listen,” the word was accompanied by the hook of the grapple clicking into place, “whatever it is you are looking for, you definitely are not going to find it with me. So. Scramble.”

He made a shooing gesture with one hand and aimed the gun without looking, shooting it and amazingly enough, hitting the edge of the rooftop. He made a salute as he was launched to the air at high speed.

Jazz didn’t follow, mesmerized by the skill. Hood landed with a flip and without breaking momentum, started running to the next rooftop, jumping impossible lengths. The way he moved was confident, powerful and measured.

She wanted to do that. She needed Red Hood to train her.

---

Back to Main Archive

Back to Danny Phantom Archive

Do you like my stuff? You can support me here!

#dpxdc #jazz/jason #jazz x jason #anger management ship #hardcover ship #dp x dc #personal coach au #<- tag for this fic #when i have a bunch ill polish and post in ao3

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mire1li · 5 months

Text

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 2

Part 1!, Part 3!

𓋼 You would absolutely decorate his microphone with a bunch of ribbons you found!

And he would absolutely allow it in fear of upsetting you, although he began to take them off later on when he had to leave, but seeing you get sad at his actions changed his mind… It did not help that the ribbons were glittery.

“Oh look, Sparkles got sparklier!” Angel had said when Alastor was passing by.

𓋼 He wants you to be happy but don't even try having feelings for anyone in hell, they'll most likely 'disappear under mysterious circumstances' and then you'll just so happen to hear their screams on Alastor's radio broadcast <3

Lucifer tries to flirt everytime he sees you outside (or once he comes back to see the hotel which… would be 'some' time later…) But it's not long before Alastor shows up bcs he has a shadow follow you everywhere

“My mother certainly would not want someone so… ancient…”

“are you trying to make me sound like a fossil?”

“Maybe~ I can’t say for sure though!”

"Y'know, I've stolen wives before… maybe it's time to steal a mother instead!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you"

𓋼 Lucifer would play silly games with you and bring you gifts by leaving them at the hotel’s doorstep, although you never received any (like he thought you did) because Alastor would always take them before you saw them. Or he would make them his own to give to you if you were having a worse day than usual!

“Mother, I had noticed that you weren’t feeling all too great so I brought you a wonderful gift!”

“Oh, thank you, darling!”

Your mood always brightened when he gave you these gifts. 𓋼 One time when Lucifer visited the hotel, he went straight to you to ask you about how you liked the gifts.

"[Name]! Hello, deer, how are you? Did you like the gifts that I left you?"

"Hello Luci, I'm fine, thank you! … Gifts? what gifts?"

"The ones… that I left on the doorstep of the hotel!"

"I dont recall seeing any gifts there… but Alastor recently started leaving the hotel more often! Not for very long though…"

And then Lucifer realised. You never received his gifts because Alastor got to them first! After that, he made sure to put a note with his signature on them. Though, that still didn't deter Alastor, to Lucifer's dismay.

𓋼 One time, Angel returned to the hotel at an unreasonably late hour, so you went to make sure everything was alright.

"Are you alright, Angel?"

"Huh? No, I'm totally fucked!"

"Why? What happened?"

"You know Valentino right? My boss?"

"Of course I do, everyone hates him quite a bit here and you always talk about him"

"Right, well, fuckin' Val made me work an extra 10 hours!"

"He what?!"

"Yeah! Absolute bitch move."

Naturally, Alastor was watching and listening to you two so you turned to him, with quite the menacing look in your eyes.

"Oh Alastor, prepare your radio broadcast!~"

𓋼 You noticed that most of the residents of the hotel all came to you for advice quite often (except Niffty, she's just an entirely different entity)

"It seems they have become quite fond of you, Mother"

"They have, haven't they?"

Alastor's expression was always one of annoyance whenever someone came to you for help. He wouldn't dare admit it, but he was most certainly jealous of anyone who even stood too close to you, let alone talked to you.

𓋼 Because of that one time that Alastor stood right next to Charlie to spite Lucifer, Lucifer decided to stand just that close to you to get back at him.

"An eye for an eye, Mr Radio!"

"I recommend you watch yourself."

𓋼 One time, when you were out of the hotel and walking around Hell with Alastor, Vox just so happened to see you on one of his tv screens, Valentino sitting by him, messaging someone.

"Hey Val, who the fuck is that with that old-timey prick?"

"Hm? No clue."

"You didn't even look, fuckhead"

"How would you know? You're too busy eyefucking Alastor."

"I am not"

"She's probably just another one of those redemption hotel idiots. It doesn't matter"

But Vox still just glared at the screen.

𓋼 Vox continued to keep an eye on you, seeing just how wonderful you are and so when you were outside the hotel alone (or so he thought) he went up to you. Somehow he didn't catch onto the fact that you're Alastor's mother.

"Hello-"

"What do you think you're doing?" Alastor, of course, suddenly appeared out of thin air, standing in between you and Vox, with an even more annoyed smile than usual.

"Alastor, is this another one of your friends?"

"No-"

"Yes, absolutely, ma'am. Great friends, in fact!"

"Ha! Well, you see, this is my Mother."

"Your what?"

Yeah, Alastor simply walked away with you whilst Vox was buffering.

𓋼 Vox constantly tried to talk to you alone but Alastor was always there to stop him, so unfortunate.

"Would you stay away from my Mother, you-! Ahem, my apologies, Mother."

"Hah! Your mother? I think you meant our mother!"

𓋼 Alastor would absolutely cover your ears when swearing at, or insulting, anyone.

𓋼 When you first met Valentino, you were so mad at him on Angel's behalf that you knocked him out and brought him back to the hotel with you. Of course, Vox was there with Val but he was like a lost duckling, just slowly trailing behind you, unsure what to do.

"I'm back!"

"What the fuck did you do??" Angel was lying down on the couch when you entered, dragging the unconcious Valentino behind you.

"A favour to you and hell!"

"No, but how?!"

"That's a secret~"

"Ok… so why'd ya bring him here?"

"Redemption"

𓋼 Back to Lucifer! He would tell you random animal facts to try and impress you! He would also unironically ask around, and search up (if necessary), how to impress a woman.

𓋼 Lucifer would suddenly start playing the violin for everyone in the hotel 'for everyones' entertainment' as he called it. (It was meant for you though). Each time Lucifer did this, Alastor told you that something important happened that required your attention. You always stayed for the beginning though.

𓋼 One day, you were baking cookies and you and Alastor left the kitchen for a while whilst they were in the oven, however, you both somehow managed to forget about them… so when the smoke alarm suddenly rang, you ran into the kitchen, everyone wondering what happened.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Mother."

"Don't you 'language' me, young man!"

𓋼 You redecorated his room. He wasn't a fan of all the new colours, but he still appreciated the gesture. (There was a lot of glitter involved)

𓋼 After a while of you staying there, everyone definitely sees you as a mother figure (Alastor didn't appreciate this much either but he's willing to look past it for his friends)

𓋼 As small gifts, you made everyone items that resemble them and filled them with different colours of glitter and paper that remind you of them. Bonus: Behind the scenes! 1. Yuri's bad timing:

2. Vox and Val:

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 3 months

Text

Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 3

Keeping the ball rolling after part two, here's Lucifer and reader headcanons as baby gets ever closer to arrival. I think I'll do two more, with the last one detailing the actual birth and dear Lucy welcoming his second child. Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Smut

- His dedication to soothing your aches and pains grows even faster than they do as you get further along. The wealth of information now available about pregnancy (albeit not of the supernatural variety) initially overwhelms him, but he manages to find what he needs in books about prenatal massage. It doesn't matter where or when pain strikes, he'll be there to roll up his sleeves and work as long as he needs to make sure you're better. He's happy to have a professional masseuse join the palace staff to provide the help you need, but he also just enjoys doing it himself. There's a kind of intimacy he can't explain when it comes to tending his beloved and the body you're growing his child with. It doesn't hurt that his fingers are literally magical.

- He wants the FULL stereotypical expecting-a-baby experience, so yes, he'd love to do some breathing classes with you! The King of Hell might struggle to do anything in public without attracting attention, but he manages to locate a relaxed enough class that the two of you can attend without fear of paparazzi, and he is beyond thrilled from the very first session. There's not much he can offer now and through delivery beyond support, but he intends to give 110%. Pregnant yoga is also not off the table, nor is any activity that lets the two of you bond and enjoy the experience. To a very small extent, he enjoys these sessions because he gets to be seen with you. The Sinners and Hellborn just can't help sneaking an extra look at the King and his expecting lover. He doesn't need to say a word whenever he meets the gaze of someone looking the two of you over, the proud puff of his chest says it all as he lovingly splays a hand on your belly; that's right, I pulled this.

- He wants to brainstorm names right away, and because the two of you elect to be surprised by the birth sex, a very long list of potential selections is drafted for any outcome. His tastes tend to be a bit more old fashioned, but he has a knack for choosing those whose beauty has passed the test of time. His selections are also based on humans that have caught his attention through the ages, for good and bad reasons. Charlie was named after an ancient king, for example, who stood out most to Lucifer because he managed change on a scale few can ever hope to achieve, and change was what he desired for his child above all else. As he follows the naming rule of "two yesses, one no" he listens to all of your suggestions just as eagerly, which over the months results in an increasing long piece of parchment covered in names and notes. Vetoed suggestions are crossed out and he makes a point to note any potential issues with a name in great detail, and while the process is far from streamlined, the two of you have a great deal of fun selecting a final list of favorites.

- Out of everything required to prepare the nursery, selecting baby clothes tends to get him crying from the cuteness most often. He'll hold up potential outfits and try to imagine the baby in them, and while he's got a fantastic sense of fashion, the fabulousity doesn't detract from the adorableness before him. The itty bitty booties, the tiny socks, the cute little onesies... Stars, he's going to have another perfect baby, and since they'll no doubt be as precious as Charlie was... You'll often find him tearing up but beaming in silent thought as he looks over your future child's wardrobe, and he'll always explain himself honestly; he just can't wait to enjoy another round of baby days. If only they didn't go by so quickly...

- Lots of things grow increasingly difficult as you get further along, but he's always up for the challenge of making life easier for you, especially in regards to the bedroom. A baby bump will make certain positions impossible, but that's of little consequence for a man that can bend reality and his own physical form with ease. His capacity for effortless flight makes gravity a non-issue, and where his magic hits its limit, his creativity takes over. Whatever position results in comfort and satisfaction for you will be achieved, and he thinks of plenty to be offered. With his long, forked tongue added to the mix, you need not worry about missing out, no matter how much your middle swells. If anything, he rather enjoys being on the bottom...

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sweatervest-obsessed · 9 months

Text

You're Keeping Me Down

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her)

WC: ~5.8k

TW: mentions of trauma, mentions of Maeve, kissing, previous relationships, swearing, alcohol, so much crying, bad decisions, girlbossing

A/N: ayo....angsty teehee. I hope y'all like it! It's a sequel to Dedicated to New Lovers and was inspired mainly by Sara Bareilles's Gravity, some Harry Styles, and other sad songs. I hope y'all enjoy it!! I really do love reading all of your comments, and tags, and feedback because it makes me so happy to know you guys are enjoying the writing!! <3

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” ~Maya Angelou

Something always brought you back to Doctor Spencer Reid. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you fought it, something about the universe could not keep you away from him for too long.

It was like the two of you were attached at opposite ends of a string, always pulling you towards one another, ignoring whatever you had been feeling beforehand.

There was nothing you could do to escape him. You had tried traversing the globe, studying in Greece and Turkey, or taking vacations in the most remote villages of China; you had even done a two-week expedition traveling to Antarctica. But somehow, some way, Spencer Reid stayed in the back of your mind.

Sometimes, it was like he was right next to you. You could still feel him next to you in your bed, or if you were alone in your car, your hand was absently reaching toward the passenger seat, only to feel the leather and not his leg.

Maybe it was because all of those stupid little facts he had spouted to you were resting in the back of your mind, popping up when you’d come across anything he would have told you about.

It was something you missed. He would just ramble on about anything to you, watching the joy on his face as he continued to speak, so grateful to have an audience, to have someone who cared. But you’d have to remind yourself that Spencer chose her as his audience instead of you.

Her.

The guilt of Maeve’s death followed you around more than Spencer did. At first, it was anything to do with therapists. The thought of choosing someone to speak to outside of your circle was a betrayal you had felt, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. Then it was your distrust of your friends, watching as they became less and less frequent in your life.

Work was all-consuming. You knew this fact well. Being one of the top profilers in the FBI meant that news of your transfer went fast, and the job offers came even quicker. But you decided to take some time off to rediscover the girl you once knew, someone outside her job.

The BAU was simply your life for the past eight years. You worked at the BAU, you dated inside of the BAU, and your friends were all within the BAU–It was honestly a joke that it all had decided to come crumbling down once you felt secure in your life, in your job, in your relationship.

You had filed the paperwork that allowed you to take two months of paid leave, not to leave the department. Your social media suddenly became filled with images of Ancient Greek monuments, Italian Vineyards, the French and Swiss Alps, and cities you once only visited in your wildest dreams.

Escaping reality was the best way to rediscover who you are. And so you tried.

When you returned from your two months, you had walked into the BAU bullpen and straight to Hotch’s office. Your skin was tanner, and your hair was a bit lighter from all of the sun. You were suddenly this confident woman again, but you weren’t who you were before, making you nearly unrecognizable.

“Y/N, please come in.”

You smiled warmly at Hotch, giving him a quick hug.

“You look good. How were your travels?”

You smiled and leaned against the wall, not wanting to sit since that meant you would be here longer than you wanted.

“It was everything I needed it to be, Hotch .” You nodded to the file on his desk with your name on it. “I take it Garcia ‘accidentally’ discovered my file and decided to drop it off?”

Hotch sighed and opened the file, looking over at you. “Of course she did. I thought you were just transferring after your leave; I didn’t know you were leaving the Bureau entirely.”

You nodded, a sad smile making its way onto your face.

Hotch looked at you, replicating the same sad smile.

“I wanted to tell you in person since I didn’t want you to find out via paperwork, but I should have known to come to your office first and then file it instead of filing it on my way to your office.”

A soft chuckle passed through Hotch’s lips as he nodded. “We’re going to miss you more than before, Y/N.”

“I won't be gone forever, Hotch. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I know.” He rounded the desk, giving you a quick hug, arm on your shoulder. “You have my number.”

You gave him a quick smile, nodding, “Don’t worry, Jack will still be getting weekly updates about my travels, and expect a box of goodies occasionally. I have to uphold my reigning title of the coolest aunt ever.”

As you left Hotch’s office, you didn’t notice Spencer at the coffee station. You didn’t see as he watched you quickly drop a note off on Emily’s desk and another on Derek’s desk before stepping into the elevator for the last time for the next two years.

You didn’t notice the heartbreak in his eyes, and you didn’t notice the fact that he had overheard as you told Hotch you weren’t coming back to the FBI at all.

But somehow, you found yourself back in that same elevator, visitor badge clipped to the new dress you had received as a gift from a friend during your month-long stay in India last year. The fabric draped across your body, highlighting how beautiful your curves were, and the colors brought out this newfound radiance in your skin, your eyes, your smile...

Color was the newest development in your life. The BAU meant that everything was in professional shades of blue, black, white, or maybe a subdued purple or green if you felt risky. But suddenly, your wardrobe burst through the rainbow as you experimented with patterns and shades, basking in this newfound joy beyond the world of suits.

Eighteen months of experimenting–with life, with colors, with places you called home, with love.

You had two brief “love affairs” as Garcia lovingly called them. One was only two weeks long, but the other was a few months. Yet both were missing something special and could barely converse with you. Maybe that was how Spencer felt. And the sex wasn’t all that great either.

And yet, after Eighteen months, an award, four nominations, a cat, a mediocre short-term relationship, and one groundbreaking dissertation that led to a Ph.D. later, you found yourself back in that damned elevator.

You inhaled sharply as you heard the tiny ding, doors opening up to a sight that made your stomach twist. It was truly bittersweet to be back, to visit the place that once carried everything in your life, and to have it be so foreign to you.

But what was not so foreign was how one Derek Morgan looked up as the door opened and his eyes filled to the brim with light.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” He dropped his file on his desk and met you in the middle of the side aisle of the bullpen, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “My woman.” He muttered into your hair, giving you an extra squeeze before pulling away slightly.

“What’s up, sexy.” You laughed, thrilled to hear he hadn’t changed too much while you were away.

“I’m sexy? Have you seen yourself recently?” He laughed, and you gave him a twirl, eager to show off one of your favorite dresses. “And where did you get this? Wait, wait, let me guess.”

You pursed your lips, failing to hide the smile that was beaming across your face.

“Was it your time in Taiwan? No no…Pakistan?”

“So close. India. Maybe next time, champ.” You patted his arm, turning your head at the gasp behind me.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, world traveler extraordinaire?”

“JJ, you saw me three days ago.”

JJ pulled you into a hug. “Yeah, over Facetime,” she grumbled, not even trying to pretend she was upset at the sight of you in person. “You seriously have to stop sending Henry so much stuff.”

“Some of it is for the other one, too.” You muttered to her, knowing she wasn’t fully public with her pregnancy at the BAU just yet.

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I just have to say hi to Hotch first.” You placed your hands on their arms, turning towards Hotch’s office. As you went to knock on the door, it opened, leaving you face to face with the only person you weren’t ready to confront just yet.

“Hi.” He breathed out.

And fuck you, he looked so good.

“Hi, Spencer.”

You watched as a wave of emotion rippled across his face. His name almost tasted weird in your mouth, not something you’ve often said in the two years apart.

“I’ll, um..” He moved to step out of the way, letting you maneuver into Hotch’s office.

But you had also tried to move, causing you and Spencer to almost collide, causing his hand to barely grace your waist. A spark flew through your skin at the thought of his touch, causing goosebumps up and down your body.

You both muttered an apology, eyes not leaving the other until you quickly moved into Hotch’s office, causing him to move back, still watching as you closed the door in his face.

While you spoke to Hotch, catching up, Spencer was down in the bullpen at his desk, barely even trying to move them away from the windows.

JJ and Derek stood around his desk, looking from the office to Spencer and back again.

“She’s back.” He said simply when Kate approached them, wondering why they were all standing around, staring at Hotch’s office.

“Who?” Kate crossed her arms, looking between the agents, hoping for an answer.

Spencer said your name for the first time in a very long time. And it was almost as if his brain whirred to life, like some part of him had been dormant for a long time.

“Doctor.”

Spencer gave Derek a weird look. “What?”

“It’s Doctor Y/N Y/L/N now, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer let his mouth fall into a small oh, letting his mind sink deeper and deeper into the pit of you.

When you had originally left, Spencer decided to try and ignore you. It didn’t work, but he wouldn’t seek you out purposefully. He never looked up your name and tried to steer clear of the conversations involving you. But he wondered why you had never mentioned wanting to get a doctorate beforehand. He would have remembered something like that. He should have remembered something like that. ______________________________________________________________

The thought of Spencer’s fingers on your waist was the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day. Your skin hadn’t stopped tingling, and suddenly you wanted to drown in his touch, let his hands roam over your body and— “Stop it.” You said out loud as you put in your earrings.

Your mind wasn’t playing far.

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, just talking to myself!” You called back, sighing as you smoothed out the front of the dress you had changed into.

The team had decided to throw you a welcome-back party that night, generously hosted by David Rossi. And since they had all wanted an excuse to get dressed up, you gave them that much, meaning you had to dawn heels and a touch of makeup to accentuate the features you wanted. It also meant you got to pull out another stunning dress you had bought.

Celebrating your doctorate, which you completed a year early, you had flown to Milan with Emily Prentiss and decided to go shopping, which is how you ended up with the current dress you were wearing.

It fits you in all the right places, showing off just enough cleavage to be tasteful but maybe tempt something a bit more. You wondered if Spencer would like—

“God, I forgot how hot you look in that dress.”

“Emily Prentiss, I could kiss you on the mouth.”

Emily laughed and looped her arm through yours, staring at the two of you in the mirror.

“Thank you for flying in on such short notice.” You whispered, unable to take your eyes off of the reflection staring back at you.

“We can call the whole thing off right now…”

You shook your head and smiled at her. “It’s for me. And I really want some of Rossi’s cooking right about now. Especially now that I can compare my worldly experiences with the Italian Masterchef himself.” You laughed, causing Emily to laugh with you.

“Let's get going, yeah?”

The ride to Rossi’s house on the outskirts of Washington D.C. made for a relaxing drive, filled with updates from your best friend about each other’s lives, even though it had only been a month since you had seen each other last.

“I think you’re being perfectly reasonable, hun.”

“You’re saying that because all I do is cry these days,” you grumbled, kissing the head of the black cat in your lap.

Emily laughed and took a sip of her wine. “Or maybe I just know that you need a change of scenery. You’ve dedicated your entire life to the BAU and now you need to explore the entire rest of the world.”

“I think you just want to go to Greece with me.”

“You know how much I love Mamma Mia….”

You cracked a smile and picked up your glass. “Maybe Em, I’m not sure…I just…”

Emily watched as you looked up, trying to keep the tears from your eyes.

“I know he’s not worth the tears,” you mumbled, but you exhaled slowly. “It’ll just hit me sometimes.”

She stayed quiet, watching as you slowly worked through whatever was happening in your head.

“It’s like he’s right next to me sometimes. I…It’s like sometimes my own head is against me for not talking to him. I heard a song the other day, and I immediately turned to tell him something about it and–It’s like he’s ruling over my mind—” You huffed angrily. “I feel like I’m not making any sense–god.” You downed your wine and placed the glass on the table. “Maybe I’m just meant to wallow and drink wine and be completely useless for the rest of my life…past my prime, past my worth. I was so—I was so fucking sure he was the one…Like there's this strong attachment to my chest and I’m connected to him for eternity, regardless of whether he loves me or not.”

Emily pulled you into her arms while you cried, rubbing your back.

“You are so much more than him, hun. You will go out in the world, figure out who you are again, and stand so tall, just how you’re supposed to.”

“So tall.” Emily looked at you as she parked the car in Rossi’s driveway.

“Just the way I’m supposed to be.” You whispered, looking over at her, smiling. ______________________________________________________________

You’ve been to Rossi’s more times than you could ever admit, but it managed to take your breath away every single time. After his first wife had passed away, he had put in a garden near the edge of his backyard, providing beautiful color for you to look at from the porch.

Somehow, you always had a half-full glass, managing to have someone always get you a new drink when you seemed low.

You managed to talk to Jack and Henry, telling them all about the wonders of the world you had seen, then being pulled away by Garcia to discuss that brief love affair you had in Argentina, which then led to telling Derek about your time in England, studying for your doctorate.

Gratefully, you excused yourself when Rossi announced that dinner had been served, leading you to the tables set up in the backyard, filled to the brim with all your favorite foods. He had simply done too much.

Dinner was filled with smiles, laughs, and chatter about the ‘good ol days’ and the newer memories being made. You had become acquainted with Kate Callahan, Emily’s replacement. She seemed nice enough, but you both were hesitant of one another.

Spencer was sitting across the table from you. The two of you would catch glances at one another, passing moments where you couldn’t help but notice the way the wind ruffled his hair or the way the garden’s fairy lights reflected in his eyes.

“So, what brings you back to Washington,” Hotch asks you the question every person at the table has been dying to hear the answer to.

“Oh! Well…” You blushed slightly and shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal, but I was just offered a position at Georgetown as an adjunct professor. If I take it, I’ll teach classes for at least the next semester. That is if I like it more than King’s College in London..”

The table erupted into congratulations, ending with a toast from Rossi.

You all raised your glass in “Salut”, and took a sip from your drink, but you couldn't help but look at Spencer, who was already looking at you.

Excusing yourself from the table, you went inside quickly, walking towards the kitchen sink. You ran your hands under the cool water before splashing it across your face.

“Y/n…”

There it was. The moment you had been dreading. The two of you were alone, no one else to buffer you, no one else to take your arm and drag you to the dance floor.

“Spencer.” You turned around, your body leaning against the sink. God, you felt so small, so unable to watch yourself.

“That’s a–that’s a beautiful dress.”

“Milan.” You mused, fiddling with the ring on your pinky finger, unable to look away from the man before you.

“Ah.”

The silence hurt. Watching the two of you must have been painful because you could feel it. You once told this man everything about yourself; he once knew how your day went by one singular sigh. He could have told you what you were in the mood to eat for breakfast just by how you woke up.

But now, you didn’t even know what to say.

“Georgetown.”

You nodded and looked down at your nails, seeming that they felt like a safer bet to look at. “Yeah, uh…should be fun. Can I–” You looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?”

Spencer’s head nodded, and you pursed your lips, looking out the window and watching as your friends and family all laughed together and ate together.

“When I was…um.” You cleared your throat, willing away the tears that had instantly sprung to your eyes. “When I was packing up all my stuff two years ago…I found the…W-Was it for her or…” You braced yourself for impact. Waiting for him to respond.

Spencer’s eyes glassed over, and his mouth formed a small oh. He fiddled with his ring finger and looked out past you through the window. He couldn’t bear to watch the travesty he was about to cause.

“You.”

“Oh.” Fuck this. Fuck. You had sobbed over finding it for three hours while packing and then sobbed again as you moved out. Somehow, hearing it out loud was worse.

He was going to propose to you.

Spencer Reid had wanted to marry you. And god, that hurt. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and then he told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore.

You didn’t care if you were reserving a spot in hell for yourself by damning an already dead woman. Her death meant Spencer could feel an ounce of the grief you just dug up. A sliver of the pain.

Suddenly, you felt his hand on your jaw, a thumb on your cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped your eye. “I am so sorry.” He whispered.

And that broke the damn.

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him, surrounding yourself with Spencer. Letting the smell of his cologne wash over you, letting him squeeze you tightly like he used to so long ago. The feeling of his chest rising and falling gave you such comfort that your brain was screaming at you to run away from it. You had finally built all your walls back up; you felt as if you could finally exist, but here in his arms, the world was silent.

In his arms, you felt fragile; you felt so small. All of the strength you had was gone. And it felt so fucking good to not have to be the strong one, the person with the brave face.

“I’m so sorry.”

His lips kissed your hair, arm running up and down your back, trying so desperately to bring back that sense of comfort he once could provide you. And it was fucking working. God, why was it working. Why did it feel good? Why couldn’t you pull away?

“Spence…” You mumbled into his shirt, that had been stained by your tears. You shook your head. “I can’t…We can’t…”

He pulled away from you slightly, eyes saddened, and you couldn’t tell if it was because you were rejecting him or because he still loved you just as much as you loved him.

“I love you.”

You pulled away from the kiss, hand on his chest, smiling brightly at him. “What?”

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked, Spencer decided.

Your lips were puffy from how much the two of you were kissing, hair messy from his hands running through it, eyes wide with just as much love repeated in his own.

“I love you.” He repeated, smiling beyond measure.

“Say it again.” You mumbled, yanking him back down to your lips, kissing him again and again.

“I love you so much, y/n y/l/n.”

You pulled away, laughter filling up the entire room. Pure joy echoed and bounced off of the walls.

Spencer bit his lip, pulling away slightly. You hadn’t set it back.

“Spence…” You cupped both cheeks with your hand, thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you too.”

Just saying it caused you to giggle, full of love and pure joy.

Loving anyone else would have caused you to gag–it still does.

But the memory makes you shudder, causing you to step out of his arms, quickly wiping away your tears or trying your best to.

The thought of love made you want to rip your head off. It made you want to sink to the bottom of the ocean and never resurface.

Spencer said your name, making you shake your head.

“You don’t love me Spencer. You haven’t for a long time.” The admission caused a resurgence of tears, making him take a step towards you. “No, Spencer, no.”

You shook your head again. “I-I can’t…you hurt me. You…you left me for someone you had never even met. She was–god.”

“I never loved her the way I love you.”

“No.” You whispered, chest heaving. “No, no. You can’t..fuck. Don’t say that shit–why would you say that shit to me.”

“Because it's the truth.” He said softly, too calmly for you to just ignore it.

“How can you stand there and say that to me? You don’t mean it—You can’t..” The past two year’s worth of therapy, of moving on, of becoming your own, came crumbling down because fuck, you didn’t know what to believe anymore. “How can you just…You don’t fucking mean it.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I–”

“Don’t believe you?” You laughed at that, tears mixing with the stabs in your chest, dropping past your mouth as it laughed and laughed and laughed. “Then why did you fucking leave me. Why–Why–Why did you tell me to move out and…God Spencer, why did you come here tonight.”

You were almost hysterical at that point; all Spencer could do was watch. He couldn't touch you because every time he tried, you’d move away or lose some part of your mind even more.

“What about me was so–so–so, so boring, so understimulating to you, so desperately ignorant that you told me you didn’t love me anymore, that you kicked me out of our home, that made you reconsider wanting to marry me. And you know, I get it, I do. You found someone on your level intellectually, I get it. But still, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life–what did she have that I didn’t, huh? What about her made her more appealing to talk to than me? ”

“She…”

“She what, Spencer.”

“I wasn’t–”

“No.” You were leaning back against the counter, trying to gain some semblance of yourself back from the spiral you were on. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t give me some ‘unworthy’ thought process because maybe you’re fucking eidetic memory doesn’t remember all of the conversations we used to have, but I fucking do. I couldn’t cut them out of my skin if I tried, and god did I try.”

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t function. All he could do was watch the pieces of you shatter all over, reliving the exact moments you were, but instead of being able to make it right, all he could watch as you closed yourself off more and more.

“Y-you tried?”

“God, Spencer, did you even look at me during those months.”

“I…” He just looked at you, really looked at you. “I couldn’t.”

You scoffed, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and straightened out your dress.

“The only fucking thing I know is that if I don’t walk away now, then I will hate myself for the rest of my life for letting you talk me back into loving you again. And the worst part is, I still do. I don’t think I could ever love anyone again because of how much love I have for you, after everything we had been through, but—”

He kissed you.

Or you kissed him.

You weren’t sure.

But all you knew was that his hands were on your waist, and your hands were on his cheeks, and his lips were touching yours, and everything felt so right within the world, and your body was against his and just–

“Fuck.” You quickly pulled away, both of you panting, staring at one another, unsure about what happened.

You two just stared at one another for what felt like forever until you heard Emily call your name from the porch. You took another step away, back against the kitchen counter, smoothing your hair and crossing your arms.

Emily walked in and eyed the two of you, misreading the tension as something more antagonistic from before than what had actually happened.

“Uh, Rossi made you a cake…” She looked between the both of you, watching as you nodded at her, standing up fully. You followed behind her, sparing one last look at Spencer, who was just looking at where you were standing.

______________________________________________________________

“Uh, hi, sorry, could you point me toward Agent Hotchner’s Office.”

The person whose shoulder you tapped turned around and gave you one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen.

“Well hello, gorg–”

“Derek. Don’t be rude.” The woman next to Derek had elbowed him in the ribs, preventing more HR training for the both of them. “Hi. You must be Y/n. I’m Penelope, and that’s Derek, don’t mind him.” She looped her arm through yours and started to lead you towards the little staircase on the side of the room.

“Hotch’s office is right up here.”

“I–Thank you, Penelope.” You smiled at her.

“I’ve read your file.” She whispered, smiling back at you. “I’m really excited to work with you because you are one impressive woman, let me tell you.”

You blushed slightly, about to respond, but Penelope had knocked on Hotch’s door, causing a voice to tell you to “come in.”

“Welcome to the team.” She pulled away, leaving you to enter Aaron Hotchner’s office for the first of many times.

You opened the door and smiled at the man at the desk. “Hi, I’m–”

“Y/n Y/l/n, You have a very impressive resume. Please, take a seat.” He stood to shake your hand, gesturing to the chair before his desk. You quickly scanned the photos along the walls, the books on his shelves.

“Everyone knows who I am before I know who they are.” You laughed slightly, taking the seat.

“Yes, well, We’re all very excited to have you join us here.”

The memory of your first day hit you like a wave when Aaron pulled your seat out for you back at the table outside. You stalled for only a second, but it was long enough for any of the various profilers at the table to notice something was off.

You smiled through the speeches, and you laughed at the jokes and cried at the sweetness of your friends, but you were somewhere far away, dreaming about the moments that led you up to where you were.

“And that is why I am glad to have you back because clearly, the universe respects you enough to let us all come together to celebrate the return of our Y/n.” You raised your glass and cheer with Rossi, standing up to hug him.

“Now.” You smiled at all of the faces that looked up at you. “Let us eat cake!!”

The table erupted and while Rossi cut slices for each of you, you sat back down, listening to what Garcia was telling you, but your eyes kept darting to the person directly across from you.

You could feel his eyes any time they were on you, and you knew they were fleeting glances, but it was just too much.

“Want to take a walk with me through the rose garden?”

You nodded, standing up and accepting Derek’s arm, letting him lead you towards the garden, enjoying the fresh air and the sudden weight off of your shoulders. You couldn’t feel his gaze anymore but you knew he was still looking at you.

“What’s next on your list of adventures.” Derek looked at you, watching the millions of emotions race across your face before settling on a smile and a shrug.

“I’m not sure yet. You know about Georgetown, but I don’t know about D.C. anymore….”

Derek nodded and pulled out the chair at the small wire table. It sat under a trellis filled with gorgeously bloomed roses and baby’s breath. The smell was almost overwhelmingly fragrant.

You gratefully took it and watched as he went and sat across from you.

“You looked like you got a bit overwhelmed back there.”

“What happened to not profiling me like I asked?”

Derek chuckled, “It’s not profiling if it’s written on your sleeve.”

You sighed and looked out at some of the flowers. “I don't…”

He let you work through it in your mind, just glad to keep you company while you figured your shit out.

Eventually, you spoke up. “It’s weird.”

Derek hummed in agreement.

“I don’t know. Just. I felt like I was doing so well, and I was becoming my own person, figuring out who I was, and then I come back here, and suddenly I’m back to being that twenty-two-year-old kid who breezed her way through the academy. It’s like I did everything in my power to end up where I did, and then the universe told me I fucked up and should have done something else.”

“I don’t think you fucked up in the slightest. Do you know how many people you saved?”

You went to brush off his comment, but Derek didn’t let you get a word in.

“I know your entire world got completely fucked over, but you were meant to be in BAU. You were supposed to be there. I cannot think of my life without you, I know Garcia can’t, and I know Emily would tear you a new one if you even brought up to her the possibility that you being in her life was a mistake.”

“Yeah, and now I’m thirty, with a doctorate and a cat, and no idea what to do with my life.”

“But you also just spent the last two years seeing the world–how many countries did you go to…”

You pursued your lips, trying to count in your head. A blush spread across your face as you mumbled the number.

“Sorry, wanna repeat that for me?”

“At least fifty…”

“That’s what I thought.” A very proud look crossed Derek's face, smiling at you.

You looked down at your left hand, fiddling with your ring finger. No matter how hard Derek tried, no matter how much you enjoyed his company and the way he was keeping your ego healthily inflated, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you could have been married–you could have been happy.

“He told me when he bought it.”

Your eyes snapped to Derek’s, and he looked at you with such soft eyes.

That was something you had always loved about Derek. No matter how much he cared for you, no matter how gently he was being, he never treated you like a piece of glass.

“He, uh, I was the only one he told.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“When did you find it?”

“When I was moving my things out of the apartment.”

“Damn…”

“Yeah.” You laughed. It was colder than usual but still antagonistic at the whole situation. “I…um. I found it on the last day when I was cleaning out my bedside table. He knew I never went into the bottom drawer because I literally never kept anything in there, but I checked because, you know, I was asked to leave, and…there it was. It was just…It’s ironic, really, how perfect it was, too. They say that if a guy can’t get the ring right, then he’s not the one for you, but no one preps you on if it’s the perfect ring, perfect size, but you had just broken up two days before you found it…”

Derek nodded, letting you ramble.

“I feel like I’m being weighed down by a million different things, yet they’re all him.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

"Sometimes good things fall apart, so that better things can fall together." ~ Marilyn Monroe

Part 3

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